#especially since the holidays are coming up and it’s getting cold

[coquettepascal]

cranberry christmas

part iii of my series "texas sweet!" texas sweet masterlist and my masterlist

summary: it's your first christmas with the miller family, which brings all sorts of new feelings out of you and joel. he relieves your anxiety in a few giving ways (tis the season!)

tags: 18+, smut, anxious!reader, dilf!joel, joel is kind of a flop (but in a cute way), gentle!joel, found family (a little), the miller family being cute, reader has an anxiety attack, mentions of troubled family life, dorky christmas cheesiness, reader celebrates christmas, heavy on the f!reader for this one, reader has boobs, reader has hair, reader wears lingerie, dryhumping, almost powerbottom!joel (?), begging, nippleplay, hickeys, coming untouched, praise kink a little, realistic people in unrealistic situations, establishing of relationship

part i -> part ii -> part iii

a/n: this honestly got way out of hand, but i LOVE IT!! i hope you all have a lovely holiday season <3

(5.1k, not beta read)

“How long have you been a dad again?” 

You’re staring at the pile of gifts that Joel has “wrapped” so far. The striped paper is wrinkled on a few of them like he balled up the paper before wrapping the gift, other ones have glaring bald spots that reveal what they are without having to unwrap them. 

Joel huffs, grumbling to himself as he’s hunched on the floor, cutting out another square of paper to wrap a book. 

“Long enough to know that if I stay down here too long my back’ll hurt tomorrow,” he responds. 

The Christmas tree in his living room has been thoroughly decorated, leaving the lights to reflect from glass ornaments onto his face. Joel looks stressed tonight, but he’s just been stressed all the time lately. The colder months have brought shittier weather, which has him worried about snowfall on sites that couldn’t take it at the moment. Anytime you’ve seen him recently, his skin has still been cold from the outside, his nose slightly red. 

He looks at your pile of gifts, which have been neatly wrapped and finished with stick-on bows, and then scrunches his face, quietly mocking your words. You laugh, feigning offense as you tilt your head.

“Oh I’m sorry, I just assumed you would have been better with your hands, Joel,” you retort in return. Instantly his head is back up so he can look at you, a shocked expression on his face. 

“You sayin’ I’m no good with my hands?” He asks, a bit incredulous.

Your eyes are rolling before you can help it, smiling as you shake your head.

“No–” you start.

“I can prove that I got perfectly fine hands. Fingers too for that matter,” he dares.

Joel shoves the wrapping paper out of his way as he scoots his way over to you, his knees scrubbing the hardwood floor. He’s smiling stupidly, clearly excited to get out of wrapping gifts.

“Joel!!” You huff, trying to squirm away from him as he gets closer to you. You’ve learned he has a serious personal space problem.

“What, angel? S’not like anybody else is home,” he grins, nosing at your cheek.

And God. Yeah, finally, nobody is fucking home.

You and Joel have been something for the past however many months. Time has flown quickly, with life and love brushing past your skin in a wind of smiles. Work takes over Joel’s life before he realizes it, and it happens a lot. Maybe that would be a problem for most people, but you live right next door. It’s not like there’s space between you, especially since you can knock on his door whenever you want to.

But you’re both adults, and spontaneity requires energy that you both lack. 

The current schedule you’ve fallen into is seeing him on Friday evenings, whenever he gets home from work, a small date on Saturday if you have the energy, and family dinner on Sunday. Yes, you’ve now worked up the courage to look his daughters and brother in the eye. After you started showing up more often they began to bond with you more, especially his girls. Ellie and Sarah are both young, both smart, and as different as they are, it just makes for a firecracker-y relationship that’s hard not to interact with.

You’ve fallen into place as Joel’s something, as someone to his family.

The only problem you and Joel have is actually getting alone time. Since you both work so much, and he’s so family oriented, it’s been hell actually trying to get alone time with him. Not even just time to… do stuff. Just having a private moment is tough. Someone is always in his house, and as much as you have your own house, his feels more like home. 

You didn’t even set up your tree this year. The living room is bare of holiday cheer, save for the growing pile of presents that you’ve built in the corner near the couch. Finding home in Joel has not helped you find your place in Austin still, the lack of familial familiarity has sucked the love from your walls. The whole house just feels like dead skin that’s ready to flake away anytime you’re there. You want to brush it from its plot of land and go back to the place next door, where warm light and voices hold the roof down and raise it all the same. 

So yeah, your house isn’t really where you want to be, ever. Sacrificing sex with Joel isn’t the best, but you want to be around him more than anything. As long as he’s there, you don’t care so much if he’s getting you there. At least not usually. 

“Yeah, no one’s home,” you repeat back to him.

The incandescent bulbs that are strung onto the tree are casting light through his hair. Tiny flecks of grey are all you can get a view of right now as he pushes his nose beneath your jaw, pressing kisses to the tender skin that tingles under his lips. 

“Mhm,” he grunts, biting at your skin then kissing over it when you wince slightly. “N’they won’t be home for at least an hour.” His hands are skimming over the waistband of your pajama pants, warm fingers dipping to touch the band of your undies. 

“Yeah,” you say again. You’re losing words. It always feels like you lose your words, breath, and brain around him, but maybe it’s because you don’t need it. Joel keeps kissing at your neck as he reaches around, tapping your bum so you lift up for him. 

The lights in the room flash into pink as your eyes slide shut and your pants are tugged down more. It’s been too long, you need this, he needs this. 

Joel doesn’t hesitate. As soon as your pants are down enough, his hand is in your undies, skimming the hair there and then pressing against you. A surprised huff puffs into your neck as he feels how wet you’ve gotten, how quick. 

And then keys. And then the front door is swinging open. And then your pants are shoved up and everyone’s home and you aren’t in your mind, but it’s fine. It’s fine. 

You’ll find time before Christmas. 

—

Today is Shitmas.

“Shitmas. Y’know, like the day in Christmas week where you do a bunch of Christmas-y shit,” Tommy had informed you about a week ago, after you had slowly turned to look at him in the living room.

The Miller family does Shitmas on the 23rd of December, and supposedly it includes, but is not limited to, family pictures in the living room, cookie baking and decorating (lead by Sarah), and sock snowman making. 

They do this every year, and you can tell because as soon as you show up on Shitmas, you’re greeted by little sock snowmen. They line the stairs, each one with a year labelled on the belly. The first few are singular snowmen, but somewhere along the way it turns into two, marking when Ellie joined their family. Over the years they’ve obviously improved, but there’s something special about the first few on the stairs. Mismatched eyes, splattered glitter glue, and Joel’s printing on their bellies, instead of Sarah’s, all grace the earliest dated snowmen.

Ellie was the one to let you into the house today, since apparently Joel is helping Sarah bake and his hands are “nasty,” in Ellie’s words. 

“Kinda ugly, huh?” Ellie teases as you crouch to look at them on the stairs. Sarah calls out somewhere in the house, over the noise of the electric mixer, and it makes you huff a laugh.

“I think they’re endearing. It’s nice that Joel keeps these,” you reply. She somewhat agrees, an “I guess,” begrudgingly leaving her lips before Joel finally walks up and she skips off back to the kitchen. 

Joel’s drying his hands with a dishtowel still as he embraces you, sighing deeply. 

“Hey angel, sorry. Fuckin… Raw egg all over my hands,” he mutters as he squeezes you tight. The two of you pull apart for a moment, but not before Joel’s going back in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. As your palms settle against his chest, you can’t help but notice how warm he is, the skin beneath his shirt, hot and giving plushly under your fingers. 

“I like the girls’ snowmen,” you tell him fondly, peeking over your shoulder at them. When you look back at him, he’s looking at them, a softness in his eyes.

“Ellie hates doing those, she only does it because Sarah likes to.” 

—

Shitmas has been stupidly fun so far. Watching Tommy and Joel try their best to decorate cookies while Sarah makes Great British Bake Off worthy ones, all while Ellie smears smiley faces onto each one in an effort to make her sister proud has raised your spirits infinitely. You decorated a few cookies, but mostly watched in awe as Sarah expertly pressed sprinkles into each of the cookies and piped patterns onto them. It kind of felt like wasting cookies to not let her decorate them, even though she bakes them each year so everyone can participate. 

Now, you’re sitting on the couch. The cookies are all sitting on the kitchen counter, abandoned as each family member bustles around the house getting ready for the picture they’ll take in front of the tree. 

Surprisingly, Tommy is done getting ready first. Honestly you figured it would have been Joel, but maybe he’s putting some extra effort in today, rather than just running a comb through his hair. Tommy’s appearance at first is only surprising because of how meticulous he can be with his hair. Joel has told you about the times they’ve been late because his hair was “fighting” him some mornings. 

“Hair cooperated with me,” he says as he takes a seat next to you on the couch. Sometimes it feels like Tommy can either read your mind, or just says shit to take up space. You respond with a nod and a mild expression of acknowledgement, a little off in your own world. 

“You forget your flannel or somethin?” Tommy asks next. You almost nod again, on auto-pilot, but then stop.

“What?” You ask, head turning in his direction. He laughs in disbelief, and for a moment you feel embarrassment start burning at the base of your neck in fear he’s laughing at you. Were you told to bring something and didn’t?

“Hold on,” Tommy says, grunting as he curls up and off the couch a second later.

He leaves you alone in the living room, left to listen to the crackling fireplace channel on TV and the sound of Ellie protesting over Sarah wanting to put hairspray on her. 

Tommy’s heavy footsteps clomp around upstairs, leading into Joel’s bedroom. Not dissimilar to the girls downstairs, the rumble of Joel’s voice hits the floor and you roll your eyes, holding a laugh. There aren’t words you can make out, but you’re sure that Joel is mightily unhappy at the random intrusion of his brother.

The more you learn about this family, the more you feel like you’re falling into place, and the more you experience being in it, the farther away your own family feels.

You sit on the couch, still as can be, as you listen to the sound of Tommy rummaging around his older brother’s room, the sound of the hairspray being spritzed while Ellie groans. The sounds are feeling increasingly farther away, even though the girls are downstairs and the boys are only upstairs. Your eyes move to the cookies sitting on the counter, the messy dishes in the sink, and suddenly the stickiness from the icing beneath your nails is too much. 

What are you doing here? What is this Hallmark movie family you’ve found yourself in? 

The thump of your heart ramps up, pumping blood to your ears and making it rssshhhh in the back of your mind just as you begin to chase your breath. It’s all too nice, and maybe you aren’t entirely undeserving, but this is all so unfamiliar. Your own family isn’t terrible, but in comparison to this, it feels so dull. Christmas was just lights and presents before, not tradition and excitement the way that fucking Shitmas has been so far. You’re one activity into the day and it’s already so much better than what you can remember from back home. 

Maybe this is what influenced your decision to stay in Texas for the holidays. Maybe somewhere in you, you knew that this would be better. You’re sitting here, in another family’s home, taking your own family for granted, and for what? Some cookies and some pictures? For the sake of a relationship that isn’t even labelled yet? You deserve this, you deserve to chase your breath and wipe your tears. Selfish girl, if you didn’t feel right in your own family, what right do you have to find a place in theirs?

Nobody in this house asked you to be here but Joel, and really, you just showed up on his doorstep. 

Your eyes are shut as you catch your breath, squinched together so tightly that you see sparks of colour behind your eyelids. Tears keep slipping out and you wipe under your eyes politely, trying not to choke on any noises. The bathrooms are occupied, don’t make a fool of yourself in the living room. 

Tommy and Joel’s voices increase in volume until they’re in front of you, and you open your eyes to see the pair staring at you. Tommy avoids your eyes as soon as you’re looking back at him, while Joel just seems a little shocked.

“Hey,” Joel says, a festive red flannel in his grip. “Why don’t we head upstairs for a second?”

—

You cry for a long while before you actually manage to tell Joel what’s upset you. 

Sat on the edge of his bed, you cry into your palms until your cheeks are red and blotchy, and snot covers the inside of your palms and the bridge of your nose. It’s ugly, nasty, and not what you want to be doing at all. Your family is fine, just boring and emotionally detached, and you’re crying about it to the hardest working single father you know, who has essentially built his life on his own with the help of his brother. 

“I just feel so stupid and– and totally out of place. What have I done to earn my place here?” You ask him, eyes puffy and sad as you stare up at him.

Joel looks hurt. He has looked hurt for a long while, but you couldn’t see it when you were buried in your palms. His brows are pinched, his eyes wrinkled at the outer corners as he looks at you, almost seeming to pity you. For a moment his eyes flash away, not to anything in particular, but just to gather himself.

“Earn your place? Baby, what?” He questions. You stay quiet, feeling just as confused as he sounds. 

His hands clench where they rest on his thighs, then relax as he sighs, head tilting to the side so he can look at you again. 

“You don’t… earn your place in our family, darlin, you’re invited.”

How could you be so fucking dense?

Anyone that’s in Joel’s life, apart from Sarah, is somebody he actively invited in. His allowance of Tommy to be a near second father figure to Sarah and Ellie, his adoption of Ellie on its own,  the majority of his family has been let in. It could have been just him and Sarah, but he wanted more so he allowed more, and he allows more because he loves what the more in his life is. 

Joel takes a deep breath, again, and seems to steel his nerves. 

“You are so much more than invited into our family, angel, you’re welcomed wholly. But, if that’s too much right now and it’s bringing you worry, it’s fine for you to just be my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

That is not the topic right now, that is so not the topic right now, but he said the word. 

Joel loves the more in his life, and now he’s added you to that “more” officially. A label, a name, a little add-on to your identity. You’re putting “Joel’s Girlfriend” on your imaginary nametag in a million different fonts in your head before you realize he’s still talking. 

“You fit right in with us, baby. The girls love you, Tommy loves you, I love you, but you know that one,” he laughs. “It’s up to you if you wanna think of yourself as a part of our family, but know that we already do.” 

A smarter response should come out of your mouth here. Joel has just said a lot of touching things that have sunk into the meat of your body, warming you, but a smart response isn’t something you can manage.

“I’m your girlfriend?”  You ask.

Joel’s brows furrow. “Yeah?”

He says it the way an eighth grader would say “Duh.”

Your look of “When did this happen?” meets Joel’s look of “Where have you been?” at the same time, and only then does he realize. 

—

His apology for completely forgetting to ask you to be his official girlfriend for the last however many months is by cleaning you up really nicely for the photo.

Joel starts by fixing your hair, letting you sit between his knees as he gently pulls it away from your face. His hands run through it so carefully, a tenderness that only an experienced girl-dad like him could provide. When he’s finished, he leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your head, adding a mumbled “sorry” in, just to really save his ass. 

With anyone else you’d be upset at them for forgetting something so pivotal in a relationship, but with Joel you lend as much patience as he gives you. He’s busy, stupidly so, and with how close and intense the two of you are with one another, it’s not absurd for it to have slipped his mind. In some ways it’s flattering, and you’d like to ask how long he’s been thinking of you as his girlfriend. 

You’re just about to when he holds up the flannel in front of you, the one that he and the rest of his family are apparently wearing for the photo.

“You don’t have to. Seriously. We just talked about family and stuff and if you aren’t ready for that, then that’s–” He’s talking fast, but not as fast as you move to grab the flannel from him.

“I’m your girlfriend, of course I have to be in the picture.”

—

The rest of Shitmas was less, well, shit. 

Ellie and Sarah did their yearly sock snowmen after the photo was taken and they turned out lovely, or at least Sarah’s did. Ellie purposefully overstuffed hers with rice just to see how big she could make the snowman before he exploded, which resulted in him exploding later that evening when his rotund body toppled down the stairs.

Now it’s Christmas Eve, and you’re prepping for tomorrow morning. Your house still isn’t decorated in the slightest, the only festive thing about it being a laundry basket full of gifts that you’ll tote over to Joel’s tomorrow morning. 

Your lower back is absolutely killing you from wrapping the last of Joel’s gifts, something he had warned you of, but you had foolishly ignored. You figured it was an old man thing, not a consequence of too many presents. It feels like heaven when your back finally rests against the couch, your head leaning back as you sigh.

Since talking with Joel yesterday about the family stress and what the two of you are, you feel a hell of a lot better. Your lungs almost feel like they’re more open than before.

Just as you’re relaxing, eyes sliding shut in stressless bliss, someones at the door. 

You grunt as you peel yourself off the couch, trudging to the door and opening it. It’s strange that anyone is at your door, especially since Joel is out with Tommy and the girls going Christmas light spotting.

Or at least he’s supposed to be.

Joel stands at your door in a loose shirt and grey sweatpants, looking sheepish. 

“Do you want to come over for a bit?”

—

Alone. Finally, alone. 

You’re sat halfway on Joel’s lap, sucking a mark into his neck as he leans back, cursing softly. 

“Fuuuckin’ god, you know I missed you,” he groans. You nod into his skin, teething at the skin softly before pulling back to lick at the reddened spot. 

Your hands grip up his sides, feeling the solid width of his body, the plushness of his tummy when your hands sink into the right spot, and you want to whimper. He’s so stupidly big, and you’re so grateful he took his shirt off almost as soon as you both started making out.

Under the lights of the tree, he already looks fucked out. Joel is almost completely limp against the back of the couch, head leaned back to expose his thick throat, bitten down and bruised with marks he might regret in a few hours. His eyes are halfway shut, but dark as ever even in the warm glow of the room which also illuminates the contours that form along his tanned skin. 

He feels your eyes on him, his own opening in an attempt to meet yours, but it only brings attention to his face. Pink lips sit pretty on his face, slightly parted and puffy from kissing you dizzy earlier. Again, his eyes squeeze shut as you drag your nails up across his chest, only to fly open.

“Wait– Wait I have something,” Joel sputters. He slides you off his lap, scrambling to the Christmas tree with boyish urgency.

Joel returns with a red present, one that he actually wrapped fairly neatly.

It’d be sweet if you weren’t literally two seconds from tearing his grey sweats off his body and riding him into next year before he had shoved you off. 

“It’s not Christmas,” you point out, but he shakes his head and shoves the gift into your hands.

Begrudgingly, you unwrap the gift and lift the lid off the box beneath the paper. Laying flat in the bottom of the thin box, cushioned by white tissue paper, is a red, babydoll, nightie. A blush lashes across your cheeks as you lift it out of the box, discovering that the top of it has no bra cups, or really anything to support your tits at all. Red ribbon frames the bust of the nightie limply in a triangular shape, a fluttery mesh making up for the remainder of the piece. It looks and feels expensive, and on top of that it’s totally sexy, even more so since Joel is the one that bought it for you.

Joel had gone out and picked this just for you, he had probably thought about you wearing this every night for the past week. The idea of it is making you increasingly more aroused, your eyes flicking to his, then down to the bulge in his pants. 

“If it’s too much then I’ll return it but,” Joel’s chest is heaving with excitement, biting his lip as he looks at the nightie, “but I kind of want to fuck my beautiful girlfriend before Christmas.”

The two of you are upstairs quickly, with Joel settling in bed and you changing in the bathroom. 

You look at yourself in the reflection of the mirror once you’ve put the ensemble on, if you can call it that. The underwear that came with the nightie are barely a scrap of fabric. Normally you’d feel really uncomfortable in something like this, hyperfocusing on small things, like how the pouch of your belly looks, or how your tits don’t look nearly as full as you want them to, but not right now. 

Joel Miller just gave you, his official girlfriend, lingerie for Christmas. Because he wants to fuck you in it. 

Shamelessly, you open the door into Joel’s bedroom, basically bouncing onto the bed. 

“It’s so nice,” you tell him right away, wanting to show your gratitude. He’s down to his boxers as he lays beside you, eyes scanning up and down your body as you sit in his bed, almost as sexy as you are naked. 

Joel is still like that for almost a minute, making your brain run haywire. Tonight, he’s left the bedside light on. It’s probably so he can see you, but it’s always special when he lets you see him while you both get intimate. He doesn’t touch you at all, just scoots up the bed so he’s sitting upright and unblinking, until finally:

“I want you to use me,” Joel blurts out. 

It’s more surprising than the gift. Your voice is a tiny whine in the back of your throat, your mouth forming the word “what,” but before you can finish, his hands are on your hips, lifting you onto his thigh. 

“There, I want you to use me there,” he near-demands. 

You’re speechless. Joel is vocal in bed for sure, always talking a lot and never really quiet, but he hasn’t been so… commanding before. He’ll ask for things occasionally, a certain position or act, but not like this. Your hips are still as he pushes you down onto his thigh, the hair on it smushing into the softness of your skin. 

“C’mon, angel, I can feel you. Fuck my thigh, use me, I want it.” He encourages.

Joel’s hands grab onto you tighter now, starting to make you move your hips until you do it on your own. It feels like you’re making a dumb face, eyes wide and brows pinched together, but you can’t help but feel surprised.

This is Joel, your Joel, who was hesitant to have sex with the lights on, or even let you look at his dick in general, and now he’s making you hump his thigh? It’s completely new to you, but you aren’t mad.

Once you’ve picked up your own pace, and stabilized yourself with your hands on his shoulders, he reaches up. Joel keeps his eyes trained on your face as he takes advantage of how your tits are on full display in the nightie, plucking and rolling your nipples in his fingers all while talking you through what’s going on. 

“I know, I know you needed this,” he nods at you, “I needed it too, baby. Missed you like this.” 

It feels awfully good grinding against his thigh, and something about this newfound side of Joel with the added fact that you guys haven’t had a moment alone in probably a month, is making this so much more explosive. You roll your hips just right and gasp as one side of the undies slips into the slit of your cunt, the less soft edge of the elastic brushing your clit. A pathetic noise is ripped from you as your hips stutter, body shocked from the sudden direct stimulation.

“No,” Joel says right away. His hand reaches around and cups the bottom of your ass, letting his fingers sink into the crease between your butt and thigh as he drags you forward again. 

“Want your messy pussy all over me, please angel I need it so bad,” he says, guiding your movements as you start to go limp, head falling back. You barely register the feeling of his hand on your waist, trying to balance you as he fucks your wet cunt onto his leg. 

You let out a tiny noise as the elastic of the undies bites into your clit again and for whatever reason it makes Joel groan too. 

“S’exactly what I wanted, angel. Wanted my pretty girlfriend to come all over me an’ have her tits in my face.”

Whatever the hell has gotten into him you hope it gets into him again. He keeps rubbing you into his leg until you’re begging for more stimulation, your limp arms reaching to grab at his hand and push it up to your breasts again. 

“M-my nipples,” you beg softly, tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation on your clit. He doesn’t hesitate, half smiling as he starts playing with your nipples again.

“Like this? Is this gonna make my pretty baby come?” He teases as he rolls your nipples repeatedly between his fingers.

All of it is too much, but it’s exactly what you wanted at the same time. Your orgasm completely fucks you out as you keep your eyes on his, mouth hanging open dumbly as he keeps one hand playing with your nipple and the other reaching down to cup your ass and grind your cunt harder on his thigh. 

“Good girl, fuckin’ God,” Joel says, staring down as your ruined undies mash into his skin. You can’t tell if you’re coming down or if this orgasm is just super long for no reason, but if it was ending, it’s extended the moment Joel’s thigh clenches up.

You look down as you whimper, wondering why he’s chosen midway through your orgasm to fuck you up again, but then realize that he didn’t choose. 

A fat, pearly, translucent bead, sprouts from where the head of his cock lays beneath his black briefs. You can see it grow bigger in the light, listening as Joel groans and curses, his lower half thrashing beneath you. His chest is heaving and the hand on your ass is digging deep. 

“Jesus– God, baby, what you do to me,” he grits through his teeth as his back finally hits the headboard again. 

Frankly, you’re speechless. You didn’t realize that would happen, or really that it could happen. You weren’t even touching him and he came, he was only watching you. It isn’t like he shot a huge load of come, but still, something came out. 

Joel seems to be coming to the same conclusion as he breathily laughs, looking down at the mess before tugging you down onto him anyway, burying his nose in your hair. 

“Good gift,” he mumbles, maybe to you, maybe to himself. “Definitely buyin’ you another one next year.” [ <3 ]

----

please leave comments, rbs/tags, or drop into my askbox ! i love to chat and listen <3 tags (people who i think will like this?? maybe??) @bambisweethearts , @pascalssbabyy , @ajps-posts , @starcaviar , @hisvision , @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal , @joeloverture , @mochamadeleines , @taeslarityy , @theweedisasterxoxo , @pawnshopb1ues , @hellishjoel , @slutty-express , @kyloispunk , @rainbowcosmicchaos , @stefanibear003 , @pedrostories [i plan on making an updates blog or something soon, apologies!]

[1980shorrorfilm]

i know it’s over

click!!!

pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader

in which…ellie doesn’t have the heart to tell joel you had broken up before the holidays; so you pretend you didn’t.

before you read...18+. angst. sad sex. afab reader. written with modern au in mind.

slow christmas songs play lowly from a record joel had put on, setting the mood of the crackling wood in the fireplace, and the twinkling tree in the corner.

the older man is laughing with ellie about something in the kitchen, and for a moment, this feels normal. like you belong here, and you’re happy to be here; something so wrong.

three weeks of heartache, shoved to the pits of your stomach, forced to smile and act as though you didn’t carry that overbearing pain. as if you and ellie were okay. she might be. you’re not sure, she doesn’t open up about her feelings to you anymore, especially not about your breakup.

it would be too hard, for her, for you, for your loved ones that view you two as inseparable. sure, the time will come when it can no longer remain a secret, but you’re in no rush to admit to something you still cannot even fathom happening in the first place. 

to tell the world that ellie isn’t yours anymore, that the small insignificant arguments had somehow piled up and led you down an unhappy path. something so odd to think about now, because you’ve only ever been happy with ellie. until now.

you see her from the corner of your eye, taking a seat on the couch beside you, but not next to you. not directly, not close enough to place her hand on your lap, to allow your head to rest on her shoulder. even as much as that hurts, it doesn’t compare to the emotional distance between you.

your eyes remain on the glowing fire before you, not daring to look at the woman who was already looking to you. searching for something to say, to make this less awkward. her mouth stays shut, allowing the quiet void to be filled with whatever sad christmas song was playing. 

you’re grateful the moment is soon interrupted by a knock at joel’s door, signaling his brother and his wife have arrived. you watch the flip switch in ellie, her cold demeanor around you suddenly dropping with a smile, hugging tommy and maria while you fiddle with your fingers.

you’re next to be engulfed in tight embraces, the couple had done an incredible job at making you feel welcomed in their family. they have since they realized ellie was pretty fucking serious about you, but that was three years ago. three years now down the drain.

you force a smile when you catch the negative thoughts spilling in your head, though it doesn’t reach your eyes, ellie noticing from a few feet away. 

she hated it.

joel interrupts with the announcement of dinner, bringing you a great sense of relief. just get it over with, pass out in the guest bedroom you two are occupying for the night, and leave in the morning. go back to life without her.

you sit in the chair next to ellie, feeling her hand cling to yours under the table. she squeezes gently, and you’re unsure if it was out of reassurance or habit. regardless, you sharply pull your hand away, her head snapping towards you, but you don’t look at her. 

you pick at your food, drowning ellie out with whatever conversation joel and tommy are sharing, even laughing at their stupid jokes. and it’s genuine, ellie spotting the twinkle in your eyes when your lips curled upwards. 

she was so fixated on you looking…happy, that she hadn’t realized she was the topic of discussion, joel telling a story about her rebellious teenage years. 

you forget the tension between you two at the moment, especially when ellie chimes in, correcting joel on some of the details, and eventually just taking over.

you direct your attention to her, the tint of red painting her freckled cheeks due to embarrassment, which slowly faded as she chuckled at her younger self. 

she was always so adorable when she got flustered, and you’re reminded how much she hated it when you pointed that out. or so, she pretended to. she never admitted that just made her even more flustered. 

her eyes meet yours now, and you’re pulled out of the moment, smile falling. an exchanged uncomfortable glare. loving gazes now replaced with something bitter and too much for you to bear. you redirect your eyes to your lap.

joel takes in the sight from the end of the table, sipping on his drink, before speaking. 

“so… you two gonna keep lookin’ like you’ve got a secret?” 

you both turn to him.

“hm?” “what?”

your voices blend with each other, the heat rising in your cheeks at the spotlight put on you two. was it that obvious? did he have to point it out? 

“a secret? who’s gotta secret?” tommy chimes in, your head now dipping as ellie lets out an exhausted sigh. “no one— no one,” ellie says, using that firm tone that everyone recognizes as her stop bothering me tone. you got pretty used to it in the days leading up to your breakup.

joel drops it, knowing if ellie wanted joel to know anything, she would’ve told him. tommy dares to pry, though, not recognizing the thick tension. 

“y’all hiding rings from us?” he chuckles, but no one laughs. if anything, it makes you want to cry. you would pick that scenario over this a million times over again. you wonder what you could’ve done differently that would’ve led you down that road with her, and down the aisle. 

how you could’ve treated her better, despite treating her like the most loved person in the entire world. because that’s what she is to you, even now. how you could’ve solved every issue that snuck into your relationship, despite trying to and ending up feeling like you had only made it so much worse. 

how you would be holding her fidgety hand under this table, just longing to feel the comfort of her warm touch, rather than dropping it and being repelled by her touch. how everything could’ve been good. perfect, even. instead, you’re stuck grieving a fleeting relationship in silence. 

ellie clears her throat, “maybe one day.”

ouch. your chair scrapes against the wooden floorboard, ellie looking up at you as you walk away, excusing yourself to the bathroom. you don’t register you’re crying until you’re locked safely in the small room, holding onto the sink, letting them fall down your face.

maybe it was the way she said it— like she almost believed it. or wished for it. or the idea that your ex-girlfriend was going to be married, and it wasn’t to you. that you’re here, for the last time. that you’re spending the most wonderful time of year with the love, and loss, of your life, for the last time. 

you had managed to wear faux smiles since the break up— it was inevitable for this breakdown to occur. 

after a moment of muffling your cries into your hands, there’s silence, you attempting to calm yourself and return to a state of false normalcy. then the gentle knock hits the bathroom door, joel’s gruff voice pulling you from your thoughts.

“you alright, kiddo?”

you dry your face, practicing a smile in the mirror, then swinging the door open. “yeah— yeah, sorry,” you tell him, “just don’t feel well.”

it’s not a complete lie, you truly feel like the earth is crumbling at your feet. you wouldn’t tell him why, exactly, but joel had two working eyes.

“you know…if there’s anything going on between you two…” he drifts off, not even sure where he was going with this. he wasn’t great with advice, he just tried to speak on what he knew. and what he knows is, you’re one of the best things to happen to ellie. 

“you two got lucky finding each other. that’s all,” he tells you, giving a sad smile like he is aware of the situation without having it explained to him. 

it crushes your heart even more, another nail hit in the coffin of you and ellie. another pile of dirt poured over you two, burying your relationship that you’re not ready to let go of. but holy fuck, is it nearly out of your grasp.

when he walks away, the tears begin to build again. you swiftly walk to the bedroom ellie and you were staying for the night, hearing the muffled voices from downstairs, hoping you weren’t the topic. 

you are. not in the sense that you dread, though, rather being spoken about highly from maria. ellie keeps her green eyes trained on the floor, listening to the woman elaborate on the words that tommy had said earlier. a ring. a proposal. a step forward for you two. 

not knowing there wasn’t a step forward, there was nothing anymore. 

“y/n…they uh, aren’t feeling too hot,” joel changes the topic, ellie picking up her lowly hung head. though she can assume the reasoning as to why, she still leaves the room, a need to check in on you, even if that’s not what you want. 

you hear the door open, but you’re laid comfortably on your side, not bothering to turn over and see her. 

“hey,” her voice is wary, nervous while approaching the bed. she sees the tear marks on your pretty face, the one nearly covered by the blanket pulled up to the tip of your nose. ellie kneels on the floor beside you, meeting you face to face. sad eyes to miserable eyes. 

“it’s too much, ellie,” you whisper, voice cracking near immediately. 

“i know.”

“why did we…” you stop yourself, the heat in your cheeks now burning you alive, thinking about it too much. something that’s said and done, something you two discussed to not talk about again, and yet. 

“it’s so hard,” you barely get out, now pulling the blanket over your head completely, a safe space to let your tears flow rather than in front of the only person that would ever comfort you. 

ellie still does, pulling the soft fabric back down, palm resting against your cheek kindly— wishing she could take the same pain she is experiencing, from you. 

she would endure it, and perhaps this would be easier. entering the new year no longer caring for her. putting yourself first for once rather than her. loving yourself more than her. it would all be so easy. 

her head falls, and her eyes water. your blurry vision clears when you take notice, suddenly putting your emotions on the back burner and wiping your eyes. 

“els,” you whisper, throwing the blanket off of you and sitting up. your legs swing over the edge of the bed, ellie taking it as an invitation to close whatever space was between you, sobbing in your lap. a rare sight, she hadn’t even done this the night you had split. she was monotone, numb in that moment. now, it’s crashing down on her at once. 

you stay like this until her crying stops, the house now quiet, tommy and maria having left. joel is assumingly in his bedroom, passed out as a christmas classic plays on his television. the house feels colder, or maybe that’s just the bedroom. 

when ellie adjusts herself, she looks up to you, an unspoken conversation being held between your damp eyes. 

ellie leans forward, doing the last thing she should do right now, and kisses you. softly. sadly. passionately. 

you scoot back on the bed, her lips not leaving yours while she crawls on top of you, neither of you thinking right now— not about what’s happening, anyway. 

all you feel is her, and you need her, in every sense, weeks of telling yourself that you don’t now unraveling. this isn’t about lust. even when her cool hand travels to the waistband of your pants, finding warmth inside of them, awaiting a reaction from you. to push her away, or change your mind, she waits for it. 

her lips part from yours, face inches from yours, studying you. you speak quietly, “please.”

she gulps.

once more, she leans in, lips moving slowly with yours, while her hand slips into your underwear. you gasp into her mouth when you feel her, busying your own hands beneath her dark shirt, resting them against her pale back. 

your nails dig into her the moment her middle finger enters you, but you only whimper when she adds her ring finger, letting you adjust to how she feels inside you— just right.

then she curls them, angling them on that spongey spot without fault, kissing you harder when a yelp attempts to escape from your lips, being reunited with a feeling you had longed for. 

the feeling of ellie taking care of you. wanting to make you feel more than okay. not locked in the bathroom crying after an argument, or isolated in your shared bed because she’d rather sleep on your worn-out thrifted couch. 

ellie loving you. 

the wind howls against the windows in the bedroom, and you hope the eerie noise blocks your crying out. it doesn’t, and ellie suddenly stops. 

“fuck,” she whispers to herself, both guilt and shame creeping into her veins. she took this too far, she thinks. ellie attempts to pull away, but your hand grips her arm, preventing her from doing so.

“i’m okay— ellie, please,” you tell her, afraid to stop, and to lose this. you need this. you beg again, “please, baby.”

and ellie repeats herself again, “fuck.”

to your request, she keeps going, fucking you while you cling to her. ellie is going fast, relentless, and the noises between your thighs are indecent. your grasp gets tighter the closer she brings you to that light at the end of the tunnel, but you can’t seem to actually reach it. 

you’re drifting, even when she picks up her pace, pressing against the sweet spots that would usually have you seeing stars.

you know ellie is rushing this. she’s not making love to you, she’s fucking you crudely, but right now your mind is desperately trying to blur those lines.

your eyes remain shut when ellie’s face parts from yours, attempting to chase that high running away from you. 

“hey,” ellie speaks, “look at me, y/n.”

you obey, brows furrowed with pleasure and sadness. you probably look a mess; she doesn’t think so. “beautiful,” she says, that rasp in her voice that you’re utterly obsessed with.

“haven’t said it enough lately…but you are…so fucking beautiful,” ellie continues, not slowing down the rhythm at which she moved in and out of you. “wish you could see yourself…fuck…”

you know what she’s doing, but it’s absolutely working.

she feels you tighten around her, heart racing and jaw-dropping with a moan threatening to spill from your soft lips. she reacts quickly, palm on your mouth to muffle the noise, these walls too thin for the noises she made you make.

“gonna be quiet for me?” ellie asks, the question more so teasing than sincere. still, you nod lazily against the mattress. she questions you again, “gonna cum for me?”

you don’t answer her this time— your body does that for you, shuddering beneath her and crying out into her hand. ellie doesn’t drag it out, she removes her fingers, sucking them while you collect yourself, calming your shaky breath.

it’s a waiting game for who speaks first, ellie shifting and sitting at the edge of the bed, gripping the blanket beneath her. she’s trying to wrap her head around…all of this…around you. 

meanwhile, you force your tired body to move, crawling behind her and wrapping your arms around her torso, head resting on her shoulder. a position you could stay in forever if life was kind enough and allowed you to. 

“we can tell him in the morning.”

her words bring you out of the haze you’re in, like a bucket of ice-cold water thrown in your fucking face. that’s what ellie did best. she gave you everything you had wanted, just to take it away. 

“okay,” you respond, letting go of her completely— in the physical way.

[mini-ism]

#— HOLIDAY LIGHTS.

pairings: lighter x afab!gn!reader [MDNI]

words: 3,300

synopsis: he hated the way those cheery holiday lights made him feel so small the night you rejected him. yet, he still answers every time you call. that shred of hope will never die, especially not as it gets cold.

warnings: p in v, biting, kissing/making out, creampie, oral sex/cunnilingus, friends with benefits type relationship (can be read as reader and lighter get together after the fic), lethal amounts of pining, rejection, grinding/dry humping, nipple sucking/licking, unprotected intercourse, afab reader (gender neutral, no pronouns/feminine terms). 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

notes: crossposted to AO3. merry pissmas losers. ily!!

it was a force of habit, always a call away.

ever since his boxing days, he was a call away.

“hello?” his husky voice could be heard on your end. it was getting cold out, the season lonelier when alone.

“lighter!” you spoke happily, almost relieved he’d answered. when didn’t he answer your call? even when he was busy at the time, he managed to return the call, managed to ask you “what’s up?”

in a heartbeat, you could hear his smile through his words and tone, he filled in the blank. “you want me to come over? you know, it’s the holiday season, can’t leave you feeling lonely.”

you laughed, an involuntary, fond, and soft noise. “yeah, could you do that? it’s been a while since i’ve seen you. …maybe you could be my gift?”

he chuckled on the other end, letting a bit of a snort through, “you bet. i’ll be there soon.”

you could only manage to tidy your bedroom before he was knocking at your door, the knocks gentle but persistent. you opened the door for him, standing in his usual attire. he waved hi, making haste to immediately settle in like it was his home too. “you missed me already?”

lighter’s words carried a teasing lilt to them, “well of course i did.” you answered him honestly, perhaps even a bit shyly. he smirked, the expression not entirely smug, carrying a layer of humility.

“well, i missed you too,” he turned to you after hanging his jacket on the back of the nearest chair, outstretching his arms, “come here.”

you obliged, scoffing at his endearment, letting his arms wrap tightly around you. his hug was secure, full of warmth and strength, a level of love underneath the surface of it all. you and him were quite familiar, your bond deep and connection deeper. he had met you when he was still fighting in the ember arena, misery behind his swollen eyes and bruises littering his battered body. yet, you never took him for what he seemed to be — a ruthless man with nothing but his life to put on the line.

hadn’t it been around this time he first kissed you? when he gave you his breathless confession? he tore off his boxing gloves, nose trickling with blood as his diaphragm stuttered with each breath. lighter had taken a particularly ugly punch to the gut, every last bit of oxygen in his lungs getting beat out of him. it still hurt to breathe, and that punch was sure to leave a hideous bruise on his … washboard abs.

as the champagne-golden and multicolored christmas lights illuminated the streets above and around the city, he huffed out an honest admission. a declaration of deep love, a sparkle igniting behind his dark and tired eyes.

you could only tell him that now wasn’t right. that, as much as you loved him back, he needed to get out of here most, that there was still so much interpersonal work to be done for yourselves. his ego was terribly hurt, the beating he took insurmountable to the pain of a slight rejection. but still, you called.

the attraction was palpable, undeniable, tangible. his name was spoken on your lips like a prayer, reverent and begging for his mercy. you begged him like he wholly owned you. the ache in his ego was replaced with a strange swell of pride, the look in your gaze unmistakable as he approached you. you stared at him with those pretty, twinkling eyes, that look beckoning him for his mercy and cruelty, to treat you as his for another night.

lighter would always oblige you. sure, that pain that shattered his fragile ego mended, and yeah, the way you practically worshipped him inflated it further. he was convinced that not even time could rip you away from him, that as he became a different man with new goals and a better set of priorities, you remained in his life. he turned down everyone, a silent part of his heart naively hoping that eventually you’d throw yourself onto him like a damsel in distress. you’d profess your equally passionate love for him, and that you were ready to be his only. he’d always pick up your call.

lighter loosened his grip slightly, bringing you back to reality as a small bit of chill crept in, “it’s always nice to see you.”

you smiled, the affection in his voice oozing with sincerity. you could feel him beginning to shuffle towards your room, holding you tight as you began to backpedal. he released an arm around you to gingerly shut the door behind him, the limb stretching somewhat awkwardly as he smothered you in himself. you couldn’t complain, the man smelled incredible and he was warm as a radiator.

his hands were immediately on you again, moving upwards to cup your face. he couldn’t stop himself from smooshing your cheeks together, stifling a laugh. lighter dove in to peck your lips, mimicking them with a puckered look of his own, the sight was thoroughly amusing.

he couldn’t stop himself after one kiss, the kisses becoming progressively less silly. his hands lessened the puckered tension of your lips and cheeks. he gently caressed your face with his thumbs as his lips deepened the kiss. his lips grazed yours, every second of contact drove him further into a frenzied need. your lips on his always felt so right, so soft and gentle. the way you tasted left him craving something that was so uniquely you, that couldn’t be emulated or sought anywhere else. his tongue was granted entrance, mingling with yours in a familiar way.

lighter softly groaned, the sound coming from deep within his chest. he never got tired of feeling your tongue on his. whatever taste your lips had, your tongue was better, it was stronger. his kiss was heated and passionate, seeking that comfort that you brought his soul, your presence a healing balm. he could bask in it for as long as he lives, until his existence is a fading shred fighting the winds of time. his hands came to your waist, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss to lift your shirt over your head. lighter’s breathing was ragged, eyes carrying the recognizable spark of need behind the darkly tinted lenses.

you stood in front of him, chest bare, your nipples hardening. he could never get tired of those tits, eyes immediately flicking down to look at them. his face was dusted with a soft pink color, peeling off his right glove to get a bare feel. his calloused fingers immediately came up to pinch the nipple softly, rolling it under his thumb and on the side of his index finger. the pressure was enough to make you wince in a delightful pain, drawing your lip between your teeth. his bare hand palmed the swell of your chest, groping as much boob as he could in his large hand. the sensation of your soft skin against his rough palm got him harder than he wanted to admit, you still had that effect on him after years. “…fuuuuck.”

lighter’s curse came out as more of a hiss, a quiet admission of arousal. he quickly pulled off his other glove, letting it carelessly land on your floor next to your shirt. his hands immediately roving back onto your chest, squeezing and kneading as much as he could.

your eyes were lidded, vision growing hazy and careless. you could feel him lift you up, hoisting you high enough to latch his mouth onto one of your tits. his arms were strong and tight around your body, carefully bringing you over to your bed. his mouth was unfocused and lazy, tongue lapping at the bud to stiffen it every time he felt it soften. lighter guided you down onto your sheets, laying himself above you.

lighter’s lips immediately lavished attention onto the other nipple, taking it between his teeth and sucking it with a pop. you could feel his cock hardening in his pants as he laid on you, hips rocking every few seconds. “you have no idea how much i love doing this…” he muttered between breaths.

lighter trailed kisses from your sternum to your clavicle and up your neck. you could feel his breath tickle your ear and his lips drag along your pulse point. his hands travelled down your abdomen, to your lower waist, trailing his tongue down your carotid slowly. lighter savored the whimper you let out for him. “that’s right, baby, let me hear you.”

lighter pressed a sloppy kiss to the junction of your collarbone and neck, tongue licking along the light bite marks he left on your skin to tease you. his fingers pressed into your sides harder, grinding his hips and cock against the flesh of your thigh beneath him.

his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, pulling them off with your underwear. lighter parted your thighs with a particularly large and muscular thigh of his own. you carded your fingers through his hair with a sigh, giving him a gentle look. lighter returned it with a smile, letting his lips kiss their way down your body. he replaced his thigh with his face, nuzzling the inside of your thigh as he laid prone on your bee. he pressed his erection into the sheets, grunting as the friction provided him with growing arousal disguised as relief. lighter nipped the inside of your thigh playfully, giving the quivering skin a kiss as a mock apology.

as he dove in, tongue first, he held eye contact with you. he allowed you to remove the sunglasses covering his eyes, the sight of you bearable to the rest of the world. his tongue flicked at your clit, sucking and kissing the sensitive slit between your legs. your fingers worked in his hair, his arms snaking around your thighs to press you closer to his mouth. he shut his eyes, rolling his hips against the soft sheets beneath him.

you had always been more than bearable in his heart, in his eyes. you were probably the only person rooting for him in an arena full of people cheering on his downfall. it had all become too much, the sights, the sounds, the smells. the sunglasses became his weird coping mechanism, serving more than their original purpose. he could only handle parting with them when he was with you, you were the only person that didn’t look at him harshly. you didn’t tell him to fight for you, you’d be the only person to clean his wounds and wash all the dreaded blood out of his hair.

that kiss he gave you during his confession was the only gift he could give you during the season. he was still flat broke, struggling to keep it together. he wasn’t living his life, he was watching it through those pretty green eyes of his. you were the only one to cut through the zombie-like haze of his mundane life. he had nothing material to provide you with, though his soul screamed at him to fight more matches, scrape up enough money doing odd jobs. yet, the way you looked at him had him feeling like all you wanted was him. although you kissed him back that night, he still couldn’t shake the looming doubt clouding his judgement. those holiday lights were hurting his eyes.

it had him filled with a strange sense of jealousy, envy. they were bright and admired, even through all the years of wear and harsh weather. people loved those lights, they would go out just to see them. they would seek them out, they were the substance of holiday nostalgia, something to decorate with and gawk at. he felt small and incomparable to the barrage of festive lights and cheer that night. it was stupid, he knew, but it was real.

a sharp tug on his hair pulled him out of his thoughts. you were breathing heavily, body shaking with pleasure as he mindlessly ate you out. his tongue was coated with a thick sheen of your cum, pussy quivering as you trembled. he didn’t need to use his fingers to get you to come this time, you must have really missed him. he gave your cunt another thorough lick, a long stripe to collect as much cum as he could on his tongue. it left you in agonizing pleasure, the sensation causing you to buck your hips and sob.

he loved the way you tasted. your skin, your lips, your tongue, even your pussy. he could eat it for days, he would if you’d let him. “can’t get enough.” he swallowed down the rest of your cum on his taste buds, the tangy taste lingering.

he had neglected his own body, too. he could feel the sticky pre-cum pooling in his boxers, cock twitching. his dick was begging him for attention, to at least grind on something, to let him bury himself inside you without a thought. his eyes were glassy, his stare magnetic and alluring. lighter’s hair was tousled and messy, his green eyes shining with arousal. it had you wishing he didn’t hide those pretty eyes away from the world, remembering that you’re lucky he still has them, even after all those black eyes and that horrible injury he sustained years ago.

he rose, settling himself differently between your thighs. your body was trembling, but your eyes conveyed full trust in him. you watched as he lifted off his own skin-tight undershirt, the scars along his body speckling his skin. the texture was different from his much softer skin, each with its own unique story. had he listened to you, maybe he wouldn’t have half of them. you still diligently kissed each one when you could, caressing his chest lovingly. his scars were never something he was ashamed of, just a reminder of reality, a reminder that the world isn't what it seems. you say they make him look sexy, so that isn’t half bad either.

the dog-tags around his neck jingled as he unbuckled his belt, throwing it aside with the rest of the clothes on the floor. he couldn’t be reminded to care, palming the prominent bulge in his pants instead. his face was red with lust, sweat dripping from his chest and beading around his hairline, soaking into his soft locks. lighter deftly unzipped his fly, reaching down into his boxers with a sultry drag of his fingers. he traced them down his lower abs, lower, lower…

you could see the outline of his hand stroking his cock through the fabric of his boxers, eventually freeing his dick from its confines. his size never failed to take your breath away, lighter still had to break you in each time. years of fucking, yet you could never get fully used to his cock. he stroked it a few times with a heavy sigh, a noise he reserved for his time with you. “nobody one could get me hard like you,” he mused, “i don’t think i can get hard thinking about anyone that isn’t you at this point. you have no idea what you’ve done to me.”

fuck, if that didn’t turn you on… you moaned, squirming and writhing in arousal, just from his honest thoughts. “lighter, take me. i don’t want anyone else’s dick, just yours.” your voice was strained, laden with burning hot need. you could feel the coil in your gut tighten with every one of his grunts. his voice was so sexy and deep, so smooth and soothing, soft when he wanted it to be.

“i thought you’d never ask,” lighter teased, collecting your wetness at the head of his cock, pushing in slightly with just the tip. you let out a whine, the sound throaty. you looked to him, who was already looking down at you with a loving smile. he pulled back out, the tip of his cock barely slid inside you. lighter’s hand came up to stabilize your leg at the hamstrings, the other aiding his cock inside with practiced ease. he winced in deep pleasure as your pussy graciously accepted his length, you were much wetter than usual too.

he couldn’t help but throw his head back after your cunt took the fattest part of his cock, burying himself to the base, his shaft coated in your wetness. “fuck, you want all of this?”

you gasped as he rocked his hips further into yours, the head of his cock hitting your cervix. you grit your teeth, jaw held tight as he pulled out slowly, dragging his hips out, before slamming back in. he took note of the lewd expression you made, jaw loosening as he fucked back into you, each thrust faster than the last, the pause in between shortening. you looked so hot like that, taking his dick just as you should. it’s got him realizing his love for you has grown even more over the years. it felt less like a trauma bond, blossoming into a deep and profound appreciation, an attraction that his brain can’t handle processing without short-circuiting a little bit. lighter’s expression mirrored yours, his face flushed, hair sticking to his face as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and held it.

he had gradually increased his pace, the sound of skin against skin gradually getting louder. your bed started to rock against the wall, his hands grabbing the undersides of your thighs tightly. he didn’t dare to look away from you, from your eyes. your pussy was already an eyeful, getting all wet and tight like that, but fuck, the faces you made as you got close made him even harder. hard enough to dick you down into your mattress.

lighter hadn’t silenced you at all, matching your moans with fervor. his hips slammed against yours, groaning and huffing louder. his muscles were wound with the same tightness and tension as yours, your pussy getting unbearably tight with every shaky exhale. “come on, that’s it, lemme hear you. let me feel you come on me, i want you to cum on my dick. can you do that? fuck, fuck…”

his brows furrowed in concentration, his rhythmically rocking into you with a brutal force. the bed frame was squeaking and moving underneath you both, masked by the shared sounds of pleasure and sex. the intense pressure in your gut was rearing its head, coming to a climax, little babbles falling from your lips. “lighter, gonna— i’ll, fuck, ohh… fuck, fuck, lighter! lighter!”

your hips frantically pushed against his, beckoning him deeper, harder. with a particularly loud mewl, your back arched off the bed, wailing in pleasure as your climax washed over every tense muscle in your body. lighter didn’t stop, the pace maintained and ruthless as he chased his own orgasm. “yeah? yeah, just like that, you feel too fuckin’ good. think i’m gonna cum too.” a faint jingle could be heard in the heat of passion, the silver colored dog-tags dangling off his neck with each thrust. “take care of this pussy every time you want me, oh, fuck—”

his final words were strained with pleasure, his own body twitching as his balls drew up tight. he rutted his hips a few times in and out, fucking his cum into you with uncharacteristically deep and desperate moans. his hands shook, palms clammy and body quivering with the after effects of sex.

lighter leaned down to give you a tentative kiss, one akin to the first gift he ever gave you. it was slow, explorative, devoted. he leaned into your neck, nibbling on your ear affectionately, “how is that for a gift?”

“…good enough for me to reconsider our relationship.”

[iceclew]

3rd Division grown-ups having a few drinks too much at the christmas fair. (at least Kafka and Nakanoshima had)

I dunno.. it came to me and I did not stop myself, what else can I say, cause.. what better time draw my personal headcanon of overly-freezing Hoshina than christmas, plus sprinkle a bit off overly attacked Kafka on top to enlighten myself, right?

And I am not used to draw the other platoon leaders plus Okonomi, so they look especially weird, but 'm still glad I managed to give em a try as well!!

So maybe they DID went to an awfully european looking christmas fair and had a drink, and Hoshina didn't catch the time right and had to hurry and come in work clothing, and maybe it was awfully cold, and he already did borrow Kafka's scarf, but was still freezing, so said Kafka aka. the Kaiju-termal-walking-radiator, also aka. Mr.-Had-a-few-drinks-too-much is helping out to keep the second best fighter of the 3rd Division from death by cold for the sake of the country that is of course..? And Nakanoshima would be weeping so hard in simp-girl-style, and Kafka would make so much fun about how drunk she is(while not being any more sober of course) and all the others would cringe the shit because of them.. And Hoshina.exe just stopped working because of all the internal screaming, wether the not-freeze-anymore part is actually reason enough for everyone around to justify him not stepping out of the situation. Also Okonogi is wailing cause she explicitly told him about the appointment, plus offered to get warmer clothes for him, but he refused since that would mean she's had to leave only to get him stuff. And Nakanoshima "whispers" to herself that she can't wait to get a picture of them for the 3D BL, and everybody is looking at her like wtf u talking about drunk woman, and that's when Ikaruga's looses it. And Mina? Mina is having the time of her life, enjoying all the good time they're having :) (plus already made a selfie with all of them in the back in secret)

Yeah...that's my weird thoughts around christmas, this is the stuff I am thinking about. Very merry, I know.... XD

MERRY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY HOLIDAYS, OR A GREAT DAY IN GENERAL FOR THOSE NOT CELEBRATING!! :)

*lying on the floor hands in her red face*

why DAFUCK am I still doing this to myself!?!?! I absolutelly HATE illustratiing at the moment, I can't do colours, I can't to backgrounds, and there is so much WEIRD in this *points at all of it* ..you know what fck it. It IS what it FCKING is, my overly cringe christmas present for you guys. XD

...no, for real now

I found a place to stay that inspires me like nothing did in over a decade, and I am utterly grateful for that. As much as others might say, this is "just" fandom/social media/internet/not RL, this is all very real to me, and simply made me feel better in times I was low or struggling. And this also was the start to switch my own mindset of what I love and what I want to do, what I perhaps can do, and therefore the time on this site and with you guys was very special to me so far.. :)

Feel HUGGED and SMOOCHED, wherever you are, and however you do or do not celebrate, have a good one :)

[bookworm-with-coffee]

Just a Kiss This Christmas. . . 🎄☃️

(Christmas Eve with Your Faves - Assassin's Creed III, Rogue and Syndicate Edition)

Plot; Little Christmas themed comfort imagines

Pairings;

Haytham Kenway x Reader (Romantic)

Connor Kenway (Ratonhnhaké:ton) x Reader (Romantic)

Shay Cormac x Reader (Romantic)

Liam O'Brien x Reader (Romantic)

Jacob Frye x Reader (Romantic)

Evie Frye x Reader (Romantic)

Lydia Frye x Reader (Romantic)

Warnings; mature themes, tooth-rotting fluff, a pinch of angst here and there, implied smut, mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption, mentions of war/warzones and violence

_______________________________________

Haytham Kenway

Outside the fogged windows, gentle snowfall was on display. Winds rustled the trees and laughter echoed in the streets.

Houses lined the roads, warmed with crackling fires and the mirth of togetherness and peace. Taverns bustled with those celebrating the coming of what was considered the best holiday of the year, cheerful music floating in the chill of the winter air.

The perfect Christmas Eve.

Your heart was soaring, not sparing a care to the coldness of the floorboards and tiling beneath your feet; finding yourself warmed by the fires of the oven.

The smell of spices floated through the halls of your home, your freshly baked gingerbread now cooling on a rack. It was an effort not to pull the scalding biscuits from the metal, to devour them immediately; but your focus on your brewing hot chocolate stole any chance of impulse.

Your lips curled up at the lightly thickened milk, stirring at your homemade concoction. Now having the desired consistency, you poured the rich beverage into two mugs, sparing a look over your shoulder.

A sigh passed through your nostrils, spying the time displayed on the wall clock. Thirty minutes past the ninth hour. With a soft loneliness tugging at your heart, you pondered how much longer it would be until Haytham retreated from his office.

Templar affairs had kept him occupied for many days and hours throughout the holiday season, as to be expected when being the Grandmaster of the Colonial. But, you knew that Christmas was one of the few occasions Haytham liked, also aware of how easily time got away from him when occupied with work. He had already missed the Templar Christmas Eve party over in the local tavern, but he would not miss an evening with you. Christmas Eve, especially.

Templar business be damned. It was up to you to save him from his undoubtedly large workload.

The hot chocolate would undoubtedly be a convincing point. Aside from yourself, of course.

Already in your nightdress, you discarded your apron and threw on your winter robes for your journey upstairs, baring an almost giddy smile whilst you climbed them.

You spied the dim lights from under the wooden door, moving to open it without knocking. "Grandmaster", you announced yourself, his head raising from the piles of parchment littered on his desk. His piercing blues were on you in an instant, already tracing over your approaching form with a cocked brow.

"You have not called me by that title since the days before our courtship", Haytham remarked with some amusement, the corners of his lips faintly curling upward. "And even then, you had little regard for it".

"What makes you think that has changed?", you quipped with a laugh. "I had to get your attention somehow. My baking clearly wasn't enough".

His smile grew at your ploy of feigning hurt, your eyes drifting to the words upon the papers. Correspondences from all corners of the world, all of them bearing the seal of the Templars. Did no one in the Order celebrate Christmas??

"My deepest apologies", Haytham crooned with the licks of playful sarcasm dancing in his velvet voice. "However will I make up for such an indiscretion?".

With mischief twinkling in your keen eyes, you grinned, lifting the hem of your nightdress to allow yourself to be seated upon and stradling his larger thighs.

Haytham's quill and papers were long forgotten as his warm hands moved to hold your waist, fingers tracing imaginary patterns into the thin materials separating you both and heating the skin beneath.

Admiration glittered in the depths of his gaze as it trailed over the cascading waves of your hair and the supple skin left exposed by your strappy nightdress and robes, those eyes no longer harsh or commanding. No longer the eyes of the Grandmaster everyone else knew.

There was a softness and vulnerability to Haytham's hues now, clearly displaying his contentment in being trapped within your embrace. A deep sigh expelled from him, relishing in the way your delicate fingers spindled into his silken locks and drew lines over his chest. "Can you think of nothing?", your words were a murmur over his skin, setting it alight with goosebumps.

With his tired eyes now closed, your lips pressed featherlight kisses to his heavy eyelids, his arms pulling you flush against his chest. Descending the curviture of his face, your lips finally met with his own in soft and lazy caresses.

Haytham's hands moved to cradle your face, his tongue drawing along the seam of your lips before they parted eagerly. Your hips shifted against his own in your attempt to get closer, a soft grunt heaving from the Grandmaster's throat and sparking his next course of action.

A small yelp passed through your interlocked lips when the Master Templar heaved you from his lap and onto his desk, the piling letters now sweeping to the floor to accommodate your presence.

Your body arched into his frame, his lips tearing from your own to start leaving a searing trail along your jaw.

"I can think of something ", he mused, pressing his hips into your own.

"Haytham!", you giggled, his skillful touches never failing to leave you weak and at his mercy. "What about the hot chocolate??".

Haytham's low chuckle was a breath against the skin of your neck. "I think you'll find that I have other priorities", his voice remained a sultry whisper, slowly working affectionate pecks towards your naval. "Starting with you ".

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Connor Kenway / Ratonhnhaké:ton

"Connor, my friend!", Norris greeted the young Assassin, tipsy with the few drinks he'd had. But, he was a merry man, deep in the high spirits of the holiday season. It was Christmas Eve, after all.

"Norris", he nodded in acknowledgement, sparing the hints of a smile for his friend, the latter having spied the direction in which the younger man's almond hues had fixated.

With a cheerful smile that reached his eyes, the miner brushed his elbow against Connor's, "Your eyes bore into a beautiful woman, and yet you waste the night lingering here in the shadows instead of talking to her".

Connor's cheeks grew hot at the accusation, his lashes fluttering and ripping his gaze from where you stood amongst the crowds of the party. "I don't know what you are implying".

Norris' gaze turned knowingly to the younger man, his brows raised, "You do not? Then perhaps, you will not mind it if I tell her—".

"Norris", Connor warned, an underlying threat sitting in his brown hues. The older man sighed, his smile refusing to dissipate even in the wake of his counterpart's intimidation.

"Why not talk to her?? Mingle with the party!", he insisted, waving his arms to gesture to the warm atmosphere of the gathering.

"I am not one for celebrations", the young Assassin replied with a tug to his shoulders. "I would much rather watch others making merry".

"And miss all the fun? An opportunity to speak to (Y/n)??", Norris gaped. "Inacceptable!".

"What would you have me do?", Connor asked with a sense of hopelessness. "I have nothing to offer her but an absent partner and a broken heart! I have not the time to court a woman as wonderful as her". He spared a glance to where you stood once more with Miriam, his heart squeezing at the beauty of your laugh. The placement of your dimples and the way the light of your happiness always met with the warmth of your eyes, his own returning to Norris. "Even if I wanted to, with every fibre of my heart".

The Frenchman nodded, understanding the feathersoft yearning that twinkled in Connor's deep gaze. Alike to the one he used to have for Miriam before their marriage.

"Connor", he sighed. "I am certain a woman like (Y/n) would have considered all of these things beforehand! She is headstrong". His smile grew when adding, "The way I hear it from Miriam, (Y/n) hardly ceases singing praise about you".

Connor's heart stilled, his brows drawing together amidst his surprise. "She speaks about me??".

" 'Gushing', is probably a proper word for it, my friend. Women do that when they are en transe by a man, no??".

"I believe so??", Connor's reply came out more like a question than a statement.

"Then why wait in the shadows any longer?", Norris pressed. "Eventually, another man will seize the opportunity to sweep (Y/n) off her feet!". The young Assassin felt a short sting of envy in his chest, his eyes drifting downward. "Do not let yourself feel the regret by not acting now. She is the woman of your dreams, Connor. You deserve that much".

Norris gently clapped Connor's larger shoulder whilst the latter mulled over his friend's wise words, not realising the truth of them until now.

If he were to wait any longer, another man would surely take the opportunity to win your heart. Any sane man would. You were truly a beautiful individual.

You have a selfless heart and a ready mind, encompassing all in your warmth and compassion, inclusive of Connor himself.

Every soft touch of your hands brushing his or holding his arm, every embrace shared after returning from his months away had ensnared his heart, melting away the hardened exterior he often wore. You'd broken through it all with patience, listening to his inner expressions without judgement.

He knew then, that he needed to give your relationship a chance. Even if the price was hurt.

"Connor", your melodic voice snapped him from his daze, a friendly smile shining from your expression despite your concern. "What are you doing back here all by yourself??".

In alarm, Connor's eyes frantically searched for Norris, finding the space beside him now vacant. The older man was finally spotted beside his wife, raising both thumbs in encouragement at the Assassin.

"I just wished to be alone", he offered a quick excuse.

"Alone?", your brows creased. "On Christmas Eve??".

"I am not one for parties", Connor elaborated, his lips subconsciously quirking upwards to match your lighthearted expression.

"I understand", you conceded with a short laugh. "Neither am I, if I'm honest. I'm glad to be away from the bustle".

Leaning against the wall beside him, your bright hues spared him a fond glance whilst you added, "That's why I came to see you". Connor's brows rose,

"Really??". You nodded.

"I hope you don't mind, but I find your company soothing, Connor".

"The feeling is mutual", he assured. "Your words and presence are both a comfort to me, and welcome at any time".

For a moment, you seemed in thought, your eyes finally flickering back to his own. "I want to thank you", you confessed, irking a confused tilt of his head.

"What for??".

"For saving me", you whispered. "For offering me a better life here, away from oppression and struggle. Those things are now a fading memory. Thanks to you".

Connor's heart warmed within his chest, humbled entirely by your words. His lips parted to utter an insistence that his efforts were minimal and knowing this, your hand raised to halt the words about to tumble out.

A nervous, breathy laugh escaped him, unable to mask his endearment for you as his darker orbs travelled the delicate features of your face. Your hand had moved to rest on the clasp of his hands, the warmth of his fingers slowly intwining with yours.

"I am grateful for you", Connor murmured, feeling a surge of courage to reveal what lay in his heart. "You are a remarkable woman, (Y/n). And I consider myself very blessed to have you in my life".

His admittance left you at a loss of words, furthered by the gentle caress of the hand that came to cradle your cheek. Connor's thumb traced over your cheekbone, stilling the breaths in your throat before he continued, "I would be honoured if you would share it with me".

With his nose now brushing your own, your lashes fluttered at the welcome proximity, breathing, "Yes", as you saw fit to close the rest of the gap, your other hand reaching to grip at his hair when the heat of his lips finally reached yours.

They were supple, moving in calming touches with your own, like a summer's breeze. Refreshing and soft.

Connor's breaths exhaled against your skin and heaved in your sweet scent, his chocolate hues fluttering open when your lips had pulled from his own. You grasped the hand interlaced with yours, eyes halflidded given the closeness you still shared.

"Do you think Achilles will notice your absence?", you gnawed on your bottom lip hopefully.

"To hell with him", Connor grunted, his lips sealing with yours again before he lead you discretely from the party room and up the stairs to resume your celebrations elsewhere..

Translations (French to English);

Inacceptable = unacceptable

En transe = Entranced

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Shay Cormac

Winter was always a dreaded time within the colonies, with only the exception of Christmas for most people. It was a time of year that you often found yourself yearning for the warmth of a home and family.

With the stars glimmering above, you'd wished upon them all for what seemed like the thousandth time by your eighth year in life.

Upon the softness of the grass, you lay with company, the autumn coolness high in the air. It wouldn't be long until the snowfall now.

Your fingers sat snugly interlocked in the grasp of your best friend, tilting your head to glance at his philosophical expression, ever a dreamer like yourself. Two children, lying beneath the shimmering lights of the stars.

"How's your face feeling?", you asked with some amusement, Shay's face brightening at the sound of your voice.

"Better now", he answered, using his spare hand to brush over the small blue spot marking his cheek. "It was you, I was worried about".

"Shay", you sighed. "You didn't have to—".

"I did", he cut in firmly, his brows creasing in seriousness. "That boy had no business trying to take your hard-earned food. I showed him the meaning of 'respect'. About time someone did".

The brunette beside you squeezed your fingers, offering a playful wink to pair with the reassuring smile he offered, the gaps on display in his teeth irking you to giggle. "Thank you", you grinned, turning your gaze back towards the skies above.

A comfortable silence ensued between you both before you piped up once more. "Shay?".

"Yeah?", his head panned towards you.

"Do you think that maybe one Christmas, we'll have a family? Be surrounded by loved ones?? Have food to eat and the warmth of a fire?".

Shay's hazel hues seemed contemplative before he answered, "Absolutely". Your brows rose, keen to listen as he continued, "We'll have families one day and big houses and even comfortable beds! You'll see, (Y/n)! When we grow up, everything will finally be alright for us. I just know it!".

That night, you both wished upon every star for Shay's prediction to come to fruition. And with twenty years' passing, Christmas Eve had finally come again.

Snowflakes floated through the air, children playing in the streets. Windows were frosted and the familiar smells of freshly baked goods were carried through the bustling streets.

Merriment and mirth were upon everyone's lips, well-wishes being spread like wildfires. The city of New York was far from perfect, yet it was prosperous, even moreso with the coming of this beloved holiday.

The Morrigan had docked for the first time in months only a few nights ago, Templar business soaring in the season. It was a relief to finally be back on dry land, especially for yourself and Shay; the latter delayed by affairs of the Order.

Never more eager to leave them behind, Shay's steps were brisk in the inches of snow left on the ground. "Are you quite sure you won't be joining us tonight, Captain?", the audacious Mr Gist had asked, excitement lacing through his tone. "I hear that Thomas Hickey is going to try and scull five pints of rum this year, as opposed to his record of three". The blonde laughed at the quizzical expression offered by his counterpart. "It should prove to be quite a show, indeed".

Shay's lips quirked up at his quartermaster's humour, ever grateful for Gist's good spirits, before he replied, "I'm celebrating Christmas Eve elsewhere tonight. A promise to a friend".

Gist spared a hearty chuckle, nodding in his clear understanding. "Very good, Captain". There was a knowing glint in his eyes when he added, "I will pass on your regards to the others, so long as you will pass mine on to (Y/n)".

There was no hiding anything from the perceptive quartermaster, Shay noted before grinning at his friend when the offer to shake hands was presented. "Thank you, Master Gist. You are relieved until the New Year", the brunette accepted.

"It has been an honour serving with you this year, Shay", Gist assured him humbly, releasing the friendly hold.

"And you", Shay's head inclined, finally farewelling the blonde before his journey lead him through a familiar set of gates not far from the port.

The chill of the winter air whipped at him incessantly until he reached the doors of his destination. Somewhere he hadn't been in the longest time. Home.

He needed only to knock on the hardwood doors before they swung open, bringing with it, the cozy and fruity smells of mulled wine and hot foods.

"Shay!", your arms were quick to pull the Irishman inside, from the cold and into your warm embrace. He stumbled for a moment, being much taller than yourself, yet never more relieved to be anywhere else but your kind arms.

Your lips hit his cheek in a quick peck, closing the front doors behind him and sealing out the cold. Shay's cheek tingled with the heat your touch left, his lips curled into a grin of delight at seeing your own.

"I was getting worried that I'd have to drag you from the Morrigan myself", you huffed with amusement.

"And you would've", Shay conceded.

"Bloody right, I would've". Your comment earned a soft giggle from the brunette, your eyes turning again to meet his as you shuffled around. "Merry Christmas, Shay".

"Merry Christmas, (Y/n)", he returned, noticing then that the halls of your shared home were decorated. Holly and vines of green bush were hung in abundance, even a tree in the corner, where most of the month everything had been bare.

A sense of wonder had filled Shay's hazel hues as they travelled the dimly lit halls. This would be not only his first Christmas back on dry land, but yours as well. For many years, you both missed Christmas. The Assassins often had you both scouring the Earth for artifacts; and the last few years, the Templars had you both embarking on diplomatic business.

As you both were rarely on dry land, Shay provided you with a home for you both to share, so that you would not waste what money you earned paying off a house that you would barely use. It was the least he could do for the best friend who had stuck through it all with him. And continued to do so.

Although now, in your adulthood, it felt like so much more than just a simple close friendship.

"Like it?", your voice brought the Irishman from his enthralled daze, his own voice sounding far away when he commented,

"It's lovely. Truly". He nodded, offering a pleased smile to you at last. "I can't believe you decorated! And is that—", the brunette sniffed the air. "— mulled wine?".

"And dinner", you laughed, his face blanching.

"You cooked as well??", Shay gaped. "How— you didn't have to— why??". His head tilted, genuinely in shock at the kindness of your actions.

"Well, you can hardly expect me to sit on my arse and twiddle my thumbs for the whole three days I was off from work!". You grasped his gloved hands, removing the covers to hold the heated skin beneath instead. "So, I occupied myself!".

Leading him into the kitchen, Shay was further surprised at the sight of some carved turkey on two plates, still steaming from the oven. You'd even baked some seasoned potatoes, glistening with butter and herbs— and was that cranberry sauce on the side??

You turned to the Irishman's stunned expression at last, the latter's eyes seeming to bulge from his skull out of shock whilst he insisted, "(Y/n), you didn't have to do this!".

Squeezing his hand to offer him reassurance, you laughed again. "I know!". Your thumb ran strokes over his knuckles, your gaze timidly shifting around in your excitement. "It's just— we've never had a proper Christmas, always being away and all, so I wanted to do this for you as much as myself. I wanted to give us a real Christmas!", you confessed. "Just like the ones we always spoke about as children".

"It's more than I could've imagined or deserved", Shay breathed out, his lashes fluttering whilst he grounded himself. At last, his hazel gaze met yours, glimmering with the hints of something unreadable to your own. "Thank you, (Y/n), for everything. I know my decisions have cost us everything from stability to the things we wanted as children, like marriage—", his eyes flickered downwards. "— or a family, but—".

"Shay", you cut in gently with a note of disapproval, gathering his gaze once more. "You are my family".

A smile returned to your face, the Irishman's eyes tracking your every movement. Your fingertips reached upwards, folding a stray few strands of his hair behind his ear.

"Remaining by your side was my decision. Leaving you was not and is not an option for me". Your thumb ran across the sharpness of his cheekbone, feeling the growing warmth of his skin beneath your touch. "Those dreams we had as children— the Assassins, the Templars— none of that could ever matter to me as much as you do".

Leaning onto the tips of your toes, your lips pressed a featherlight kiss against his forehead, murmuring against his skin, "You're all the family I need, Shay. As long as I have you, nothing else matters. I love you".

With such a raw confession hanging in the air, Shay didn't let your close proximity break. His arms curled around your waist, holding you upon your tiptoes with his lips close enough to brush with your own.

Shay awaited any attempt for you to pull away, finding no discomfort sitting in your orbs when at last his lips graced yours. Every part of you gave in to the careful strokes of his flesh with yours, feeling their cold and tasting the salt from the sea breeze that still lingered with him.

The Irishman finally recognised the ever blooming strength of the feeling that had always been there in his heart. It was as if an epiphany had struck him in the electric feeling of your kiss, your words having sparked the realisation of why your close friendship had felt like more.

It always had been.

"I love you too", his thickened brogue fanned over your lips after the kiss had broken. Shay's forehead sat against yours, cherishing the closeness and mingling of your breaths.

"We do have to eat first", a breathy chuckle fell from you, mirrored by Shay's laugh whilst your fingertips tracing the sharpness of his jawline.

"Must we?", his pout was playful, fondness once again dancing in his hazel hues.

"Afraid so".

"It shouldn't matter, as long as I have you". Shay's shoulders tugged, his statement endearing until he added, "Because if I eat all my dinner, I get dessert ". Sparing you a flirtatious wink in his passing into the kitchen, your mouth hung open incredulously.

This would be a long night, indeed...

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Liam O'Brien

Life on the open seas. The salty air and biting breeze of the Atlantic a bitter reminder to you that you were far from the comforts found in being on land. Being home.

Assassin work never ceased, even with the Christmas season soon coming to a close the day after next. Christmas Eve had come again and you were surrounded by an endless amount of ocean that stretched to every direction of the horizons with only silence for company.

The hour was late, the crew of the Morrigan having set anchor hours ago to retire to their quarters and the seas were calm, the ship hardly rocking with the sway of the waters.

You should have been sleeping too. Being the crew's navigator, rest was an essential part of your job. To stay focused, to have a ready mind should your Assassin bretheren call up on your skillset.

It was for naught.

You missed the mirthfulness of being on dry land, being at the Homestead with your brothers and sisters. You missed the people rejoicing for the year's end, giving gifts and thanks for each other. You even missed the decorating of those silly pine trees and the smell of your baked goods. You missed Christmas. And you missed spending it with Liam, the quartermaster of the ship having always been a big part of your celebrations since before your time as an Assassin.

Every Christmas Eve, the bald Irishman made it a habit to ditch his duty of babysitting Shay for one night and spend the evening with you however which way you both saw fit.

Last year, Liam had taken you for ice-skating on the lake by the Homestead, as the weather finally permitted it. It also had something to do with the fact that you spent every day of that dreaded month whinging in his ear about how you'd love to learn how to ice-skate, begging asking him to teach you. How then, with you as persistent and stubborn as Shay, was he able to refuse??

The year before, Liam had barely made it to port in time, surprising you with his appearance at your front door in the evening. You'd felt so disheartened at the prospect of him being away from home, away from you that Christmas, that you'd nearly broken his back from the force of your embrace when you pulled his larger form through the door.

He never came empty handed, although you always insisted upon it.

"You're giving me the best meal I've had in months, Love", he'd say with a laugh. "Least I can do is give y' something for the trouble".

Liam would gift you trinkets he'd find at sea or on missions and although your respective careers as Assassins allowed little time for feelings or emotions, something about Liam makes every trouble feel small and any place feel like home.

You were relieved to be travelling with him and Shay this year, the bald Irishman having sung praise about your navigational expertise— one that could rival Chevalier's. And despite being no closer to the mission's end, you missed the intimacy of your traditions with your dearest friend who was undoubtedly sleeping soundly.

Or so you'd thought.

"What's this then?", Liam's voice startled you from your daze. "Sorry", he apologised with a soft laugh, moving to lean on the ship's railing alongside you.

"Can't sleep?", your question made him grin.

"Shouldn't I be the one to ask you that?". His amused expression quickly morphed into one of concern. "What's got y' so troubled?".

"It's Christmas Eve", your reply confused him, before you elaborated. "And look where we are. No land for miles, just water".

"I never knew being at sea would bother you so much", his brows drew together. "It can be hard, being so isolated. I can always ask Shay to—".

"It's not that, Liam".

"Then what?", his question was paired with a light tilting of his head, green hues fixed on you with that same gentle and attentive nature.

"There's no traditions or fun this year. No break from our work— we just don't stop. Every year, we always found something new to do, but it never mattered to me what we did. We always had each other, Liam. And maybe, just maybe, I—".

"Miss it?", he finished, coaxing something of a sheepish nod from you.

Darting up from the clasp of your hands, your gaze met Liam's, something fond and understanding in the way his lips curled into that crooked and beloved smile.

Hues of blue, purple and green suddenly illuminated his face in a heavenly symphony of colours and lights, stealing the breath from your lungs as your gazes travelled upward in realisation.

For the first time in your months on the sea, the Aurora Borealis made herself known to the only two beings awake on the ocean, dancing in many waves across the glittering skies.

"Come now", Liam said gathering your immediate attention when extending a palm to you. "I think we've found our fun for this year".

The warmth of his hand quickly enveloped yours, beckoning you near with the lightest of tugs. Your mingling breaths misted in the cold, your being craving the heat that endlessly radiated from the male before you.

Just like your dance on the ice the previous year, Liam lead you carefully by the small of your back into a soft waltz, the world around you slowly spinning in colours and ribbons of light from the heavens, with him at its heart.

The Irishman shared in your gleeful laughter as you both spun and gradually forgot the rhythm of the dance, all the while clinging to each other's hands.

Your bodies became tangled and giggling messes as you both struggled to hold the other upright in an embrace that finalised your dance with Liam. His head panned to yours resting softly on his shoulder, breathless and grinning ear to ear. Flushed from the cold and looking at him like he'd placed the stars themselves into the heavens.

"I think I've found our tradition for every year", you whispered.

His brows rose playfully, "Have you?".

Craving his warmth, you wasted no more time in hesitation, seizing the blistering heat of his mouth with yours.

Liam eagerly accepted the contact with a pleased hum, smiling through the shared movements of your lips as the years of tension fell away into something far more beautiful.

"I quite like that idea", his quiet laugh fell upon your skin. "We should definitely do the dancing again—".

Slapping his shoulder, you both shared in another kiss before making a move for the quartmaster's cabin, from which you would probably fail to emerge from any time prior to noon on Christmas Day.

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Jacob Frye

Snow cut through the calm yet biting breeze, a chill deep in the foggy streets of London. Your throat burned dry with every inhale, relieved to be out in the open air at last, away from the suffocating heat of the bustling tavern.

What else could you expect from a gathering hosted by London's best bookie?

Robert Topping had thrown together quite the riot for the good peoples of the city, the Rooks taking it upon themselves to make merry with them, ensuring that every man, woman and child that showed up left in good spirits and with plenty of food in their bellies.

Another few people passed you by on their way out from the pub, whispers of 'Merry Christmas' on their lips, reflective of their gratitude towards you and the many others that had contributed to the party and the hard-won peace that now flourished in London.

Since Starrick's defeat mere months ago, the people no longer came to suffer the oppression of the gangs that had once run the streets. All the same, you also found yourself missing the adrenaline of it all. The thrill of freeing the people under the Templars' noses, loosening their iron hold over the citizens— working with Jacob and Evie to undo each scheme that was set against them.

However, there was nothing you missed more than being paired with Jacob on any mission the Frye's needed you for. The younger Frye had a knack for making you laugh, his easygoing nature making him easy to fall into step with.

His witty sarcasm, his playful digs and constant verbal nudges to get on your nerves had all become much-loved aspects of your assignments with him. Now, you knew not what you'd do without them, just as Jacob remained unsure of how often he'd have your company in future.

It frightened him— the thought of hardly seeing you, after you'd achieved so much together.

As such, it was hard for the younger Frye to remain oblivious to your early departure from the festivities, spying your thoughtful expression as you'd moved out into the snow.

"Leaving so soon?", Jacob called unto your back, caught for breath when you turned to face him. Pure exhilaration.

"I am, actually", you spoke with a teasing edge. "What brings you here? Looking for a way out of Bobby Topping's drinking competition? He was keen hoping you'd be his top contender".

"He knows I don't have to compete to be his top contender", the brunette countered quickly. "And I have no plans on earning him a quid more than he already has this evening".

"That's a first". He huffed a laugh at your quip, before his features softened. Recounting the many nights you'd spent patching him up after Fight Club. Blooded and bruised. Kind hands cradling him.

"It's hardly safe at this hour", Jacob began, sparing a glance at his fobwatch. "And as much as I'd love to leave you to the street felons, I think a walk might do us good".

"Am I sensing an offer to walk me home, Mr Frye?", your brow cocked, masking the mixture of horror and excitement that suddenly arose within you.

"It's that or Evie's wrath. As much as I lack fear of the latter, I'm not in the mood to be verbally castrated when I return to the train tonight". The brunette swiveled on his feet, graciously offering you his elbow to hold. "It is Christmas Eve, after all and one must learn to forgive another's snide remarks".

The wink that followed had you giggling, "I accept".

The walk that followed was magical.

Holding to the hard muscle sheathed by his leather jacket, you basked in the warmth that seemed to pour endlessly from Jacob. A beacon of heat in the crisp winter cold as you crossed onto London bridge– now entirely devoid of any life. Naught but the quiet flow of the icy waters and the waft of the breeze could be heard, no voices.

"It's so peaceful", your comment irked a fond smile from the young Frye as his stride seemed to slow.

"Too peaceful, one might say", his contented sigh misted in the breeze, footsteps halting halfway across the brige.

Jacob seemed taken by something, his hues of hazel panning up into the sky— to the lonely lights twinkling above. Their sparkle cascaded down, into the fresh snowflakes that now rained softly from the heavens. Like stars falling to Earth, the frost glittering in the moonlight.

"Snow!", your mouth fell open in awe, squeezing his arm in your shock. "It's so beautiful".

The flakes danced around you both in the wind, clinging to your hair and settling onto your clothes, doing nothing to deter Jacob's playful spirit.

Your racing heart leapt as his larger hand slowly brushed along your forearm, fingers carefully moving to tangle with your own amidst the snowfall.

"Dance with me", he whispered in a tone so gentle, you'd thought him a completely different person for a moment. The mischievous twinkle in the heart of his gaze made you realise that it was quite the contrary.

Seizing the moment with the man you adored, your steps across the bridge turned into the graceful, yet clumsy movements of a ballroom dance. Your shared laughter echoed along the piers below, seeming like starstruck soulmates to any sailors observing from below.

Without missing a beat, Jacob twirled you into his embrace with the gentleness and playfulness of a lover in a private waltz that was completely your own.

The journey across the bridge was over too soon, leaving your cheeks red and sore from smiling so much. All the while, Jacob's hand never retreated from yours.

Sensing a change in the wind, the young Assassin's head snapped towards you with amusement and exhaustion marring his expression. "As much as I'd love to continue our antics with the stunning views atop Big Ben, I think it would be a good idea to get indoors".

Little did you know, he'd never been more right.

Chests heaving and hearts hammering, you embraced the shelter you'd both managed to reach. Your beloved home, safe from the storm that had suddenly swept north.

"That was fun", Jacob's comment irked a shake of your head.

"Funnily enough", you countered, managing a laugh amidst your gasps for air. "Outrunning a blizzard wasn't how I planned to spend my Christmas Eve".

All of the other homes on the street were now near invisible to you both, shaky hands reaching for the front door. "You'd be mad to go back to the train in this weather", you turned to the timid and shaking brunette, quickly beckoning him inside with you. "Stay the night".

"It's a pity that our run didn't keep us warm for long", Jacob huffed once inside your humble abode, relieved to see that you were already starting a fire in the hearth.

"We were lucky to get here when we did, though", you remarked through chattering teeth. "Make yourself at home, Jacob".

Nodding, the young Frye unclasped his hidden blade, shook off his dampening overcoat and removed his top hat out of respect whilst you hurried out of the room.

Hazel flecked hues danced the room, ogling at the cozy Christmas greenery that lined the walls, at the beautifully decorated pine tree that brought him fondly back to the days of his childhood in Crawley. Of standing on an old oak chair in the living room of his grandmother's house, eagerly hanging the baubles whilst the smells of spiced biscuits and fresh tree needles filled the room.

So consumed in the memories that made his eyes glassy, Jacob didn't see your approach, nearly jumping whilst you wrapped a thick blanket around his broad shoulders. There was instant warmth and relief in the way your palms ran along his toned arms, attempting to provide heat through friction.

"Thank you". There it was again, just like before. That softness drifting through his voice, so unlike the boisterous and authoritative tone he usually took with the Rooks and other associates of his.

Offering him a smile that brought a completely different warmth to his form, Jacob allowed himself to be pulled in tow, to be seated with you by the crackling embers of the dim fire.

Given the evening behind you, the younger Frye felt comfortable and confident enough to be seated flush with you on the hard cold of the floorboards, inching one half of the blanket around your shoulders for you to share in his ever present body heat again.

Restraining the shudders that threatened to wash over you, your head panned away from his, not daring another glance at the way the fire illuminated his delicate and sharp features.

"Do you want some tea?". You began to hover your numbing hands above the burning flames, his words of reply being neither desperate or commanding, accompanied with what appeared to be a content curl of his lips, boyish and sweet.

"Don't leave".

Jacob's larger palms reached out, encasing the chill of your fingers within them. Drawing your hands away from the fire, his own gently offered yours a massage, encouraging the blood to race back into them.

Steady fingers worked into your palms and wrists, rubbing together at a soft and tantalising pace, the hazel hues of his gaze darting up to meet yours. You felt pinned in place by them whilst he blew a stream of hot air onto your skin.

Nerves prickled in your flesh, entirely fixated by the proximity of your best friend. Your colleague. So intimately coursing his thumbs over your hands whilst he spoke,

"I know this evening hasn't been what you expected— Or what I expected". His lashes fluttered. "But, there's no one else's Christmas Eve I'd rather be imposing on right now, more than yours".

An amused grin splayed along your features, shyly adding a confession of your own, "I don't think there's anyone else I'd rather have imposing on my Christmas Eve right now. Or from now on".

The new and bewitching colours of Jacob's firelit gaze once again ensnared you, holding your own eyes through the length of his lashes. His mouth feathered a touch over the pads of your fingers, brushing another on your knuckles before he finally settled for closing what space remained between you.

Whatever kind grip that he'd had on your hands disappeared, allowing you the opportunity of sweeping them along the ridge of his cheekbone and into his hair whilst his lips grazed over the seam of yours.

A gasp ghosted over Jacob's sensitive flesh, encouraging him to take your mouth again in a kiss far more eager than the last.

The crease of his brows met firm with yours, claiming any of your coherent thought in the new and fervent dance of his lips. Caught entirely in those movements, you both easily forgot the cold around you, the blanket falling to the floor as you climbed into his lap. Into his arms.

Jacob caressed a finger along your frantic pulse point, continuing to tease the dip of your collarbone whilst he settled his hand above your heart.

"I think—", he murmured, hinting a kiss in his descent against the delicate flesh of your jaw. "We can beat this chill another way".

The vibration of your laugh only did much to tempt him, quickly taking it upon yourself to fuel that cheeky grin of his.

"Whatever you say, Mr Frye".

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Evie Frye

Baubles and greenery. Holly and cinnamon sticks. Pine trees and the smells of roasted chestnuts being carried down the streets. Everybody knew what time of year had come.

A sweet sense of relief had set in with the peoples of London, just in time for the biggest and happiest season. Having only been a shell of it's former self mere months ago, the city was now alive and bustling with trade and well wishes. Content with the knowledge that someone was looking out for them. Offering them a hard-earned peace.

The Rooks, the beloved gang serving the Fryes and protecting the streets— were now making merry with those they serve. Throwing a riot of a party that Evie Frye was certain she was missing.

She paid no mind to the cheering and clapping on the streets this evening, content to let it pass her by, despite Jacob's encouragements. There was far more work to be done, far more to be studied on the Pieces of Eden. Templar schemes didn't disappear at Christmas, and Evie made it her inclination that Assassin plans never halted either. Too much was at stake. Or so she'd earlier insisted to Henry, who also— thought it best to have the night off.

For but a moment, her tired crystal eyes lifted from the piles of parchment on her desk, harping a thought of her very active mind on you.

Of the way you'd busied yourself around the train earlier that morning, piles of decorations fumbling and falling from your arms. The excitement that had flared through the depths of your gaze or the shape of your dimples when you grinned like a giddy schoolchild and the way her heart had soared with your laughter.

A smile ghosted over Evie's lips, unrestrained with the fond reminder of how your carefree soul never failed to lift her spirits.

In previous months, it had done much to loosen her hardened and strict exterior. And earned her a mouthful of teasing from her brother, who had wholeheartedly supported her curiosities of their best friend and colleague. Despite any and all disapproval she'd face from anyone else.

There was a tug of guilt in her chest, drawing her icy hues to the glow of the streets outside. You'd be celebrating, perhaps disheartened that your friend couldn't even make the effort to show. After everything you'd done to prepare. After everything you'd accomplished together this year.

"There you are", Evie suddenly straightened, instantly snapped from her daze by the intrusion of your voice. As if her thoughts alone had summoned you to the train.

"(Y/n)", the brunette turned to you, choked up with the image settled before her.

Despite your hands being clasped behind your back, your posture was that of complete relaxation, donning a dress so wickedly beautiful, it seemed as if the angels above had forged you.

There was an obvious flush to your cheeks from the cold and any alcohol you'd recently consumed with the festivities, but it left any of her previously coherent thoughts scarce.

"Jacob told me I'd find you here", you remarked with a cheeky quirk to your lip.

Of course he did, Evie nearly responded out of natural irritation, marking your approach. Noting the concern etched to your features, the waves of your hair drifting back and carrying the smells of spiced firesmoke.

"Why are you here so late? You're missing all of the festivities".

A long and frustrated sigh drifted through her nostrils. "It's the Templars", she tugged stressfully on a loose strand of her fringe. "They don't rest! They—".

"Enough", one of your palms moved to carefully blanket Evie's, instantly rendering her into a silence. "Forget it. Forget it all tonight. It's Christmas Eve".

The softest swipe of your thumb over her knuckles placated any argument, Evie pinning you with a pensive and tired glare before her shoulders slumped in resignation at your unwavering resolve. You were anything if not more stubborn than her twin.

Without much difficulty, the older Frye allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Sitting for the many hours passed had done little to aid her posture, leaving her muscles unnaturally exhausted of their energy and bones riddled with stiffness.

"Office work does not become you, Miss Frye", your giggle was soon mirrored by hers.

"I'm glad you think so. My bones seem to agree with you".

"Lucky for you, it's hardly the weather to be chasing down Templars. However,—", her brows rose in intrigue when you trailed off, finally bringing your other hand forth from behind your back. "— you may find the weather more fitting for this".

In one of your hands was a steaming mug of mulled wine that you'd managed to smuggle from the celebration, its fragrant spices drawing the elder Frye back to her childhood days in Crawley. Building snowmen with Jacob and cutting down pine trees in the woods.

In your other palm, there was a small and well-decorated box that you'd pulled from your pocket, patterned simply with a red ribbon binding the label which read clearly,

'To Evie.

With love, from (Y/n)'.

Offering both to her, you had the honour of watching her familiar icy blues change in their observation of you. Twisting with a fondness and mixture of shock that you'd never previously witnessed from her.

"Merry Christmas, Evie".

Moisture prickled in the brunette's eyes, quickly dismissed in the flutter of her lashes. "I can't believe you—".

About to placate her, you hardly expected Evie to cross whatever space there was between you, drawing your frame against hers in a kind embrace that nullified the winter's harsh and lingering chill.

"Evie, your mulled wine—", you tried to object whilst you steadied yourself with her, soon realising that you were perfectly safe and balanced. That her beverage wouldn't spill and burn you both.

The moments drifted in the comfort of her arms, seeming to end too soon when she at last pulled from you with misty hues.

"You didn't honestly think that I would forget you?".

Evie choked a laugh in the dismissal of her tears, "By my not attending the festivities, I thought that I'd given you the uninentional presumption that I'd forgotten you".

"No", your smile remained kind, admired keenly by Evie's sharper gaze. "You gave me the presumption that I'd have to drag you from your papers kicking and screaming. Didn't I succeed?".

"You've gotten further than Jacob ever has", she conceded, feeling the lightness of the gift being tucked beneath her fingers.

"Open it", your encouragement made her blink.

"But, it's Christmas Eve?".

"This one is special". You squeezed her hand in assurance. "Trust me".

It was with a slow apprehension and deep care that Evie untied the ribbon, lifting the shallow lid to the box in her palm. You delighted in the wonder that arose within the crystalline glare of her gaze as her fingers lifted the delicate trinket from the box.

The silver chain caught the light around you, twinkling softly like the stars under her scrutiny. Charms jangled, tied and melded into the precious metal with a precision that left her speechless.

"Did you—".

"I did", you nodded. "I learned from Henry. It's a lucky charm bracelet. I made its design so that it could also adorn your hidden blade, if you wish".

"I do, please!", Evie's insistance was paired with the instant offer of her forearm, on which you then fastened the glittering jewels to her bracer.

"I chose this colour", you murmured, tracing a finger along one of the stones. Pale blue and cut to be shaped like a heart. "Reminded me of your eyes".

Your gaze darted up, instantly catching hers. Like the striking chill of winter, or the bubbling streams anew in spring.

"Why did you shape it that way?", her ask was barely audible, as if speaking any louder would shatter any hope of a genuine answer from you.

"I carved it that way to represent my heart. My goodwill to you, Evie. To give you luck when you need it. Maybe, in the hopes that you might be reminded of me from time to time, if you ever go back to Crawley".

Your stomach twisted with the prospect of a possible rejection whilst the brunette huffed a breathy laugh. "How foolish you are, to believe that I'd ever be capable of forgetting you".

You swallowed nervously, feeling your throat becoming taut with the slow smile that crept onto her freckled cheeks. A realisation passed between you both in that moment. That this wasn't some fiction or delusion, or simple and fleeting curiosity. This was real. Fortified further by the gentle tug of her arm, slowly allowing the hand lingering upon it to fall into hers.

"You are far too entangled in my heart for me to ever let you go", she whispered, fingers weaving to intertwine with yours. "How could I ever leave?".

With the lightest pull from Evie, your feet stumbled forwards on autopilot, chest coming to meet flush with hers.

The cold that encompassed your lips dissipated with the soft breaths that cascaded over them, soon swallowed entirely by warmth as her mouth claimed yours. Gently, ardently, riddled with hesitation.

Your hands reliquished their grip at last on the mug, shattering when it hit the floor nearby, paying no mind to it whilst Evie craned you backwards, leading you to the couch just behind.

Falling upon the plush surface, you understood now why Jacob found it so comfortable. Evie blinked when her lips pulled from yours,

"Hang on, I forgot to get you a present—".

"I don't know", you mused, dancing a finger along the collar of her shirt. "I have a feeling that I'll like unwrapping this one much better".

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Lydia Frye

"Miss Frye".

"Mr Churchill", Lydia acknowledged with a curt nod, fiddling with the bracer of her hidden blade.

"I trust, the mission went well??".

"Exceptionally", she nodded, watching the warmth of relief meeting the Prime Minister's eyes. "The spies at the north gate have been eliminated. Rooks now stand vigil. If we are to endure an attack, we will surely see it coming".

"It seems London is once again indebted to you, Miss Frye", Winston mused. "Is there not anything we can offer you in return?? Consider your previous request in the works. I have my best people ensuring that London will one day bear true equality to the women of our beloved nation".

Lydia was pensive, gnawing the inside of her mouth. Unable to ignore the pressure of the worries eating at her every thought.

Hesitantly, she pulled a letter from her green overcoat, offering it forth to a bewildered Winston Churchill. His steady hands took the parchment, sparing it a look only to whom it was from. "(Y/n) Frye?", his gaze darted up to Lydia's.

"She's an Assassin working to aid the front", the brunette elaborated. "She has written me one letter a week without fail since her deployment. It has been two and a half weeks, and I have no word. Not even from my best men".

"You worry for her wellbeing?", Churchill questioned with a concern similar to Lydia's. "There is a war on. Perhaps, the couriers—".

"I recieve these letters by different means, Mr Churchill. I am scared for her life. No one loves Christmas more than she. And with that on approach— I've heard nothing. Not even a whisper".

"I see", his lips pursed in thought, nodding in his understanding.

"Mr Churchill, if there's one thing I wish, it's for her to be found and brought home safely".

"I will begin an investigation at once", he assured her, smiling at the numbers written under your signature. "Smart girl. She has signed off with her last longitude and latitude coordinates for us, which gives us a good place to start covering ground".

"Thank you, Sir", Lydia released a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

"I only ask for patience and understanding at this time, Miss Frye", Churchill offered a compassionate smile. "Be aware that it is hardly unusual for people to go missing in warzones and this investigation may take some time. I will page you with any findings I come across. We will get your sister home, if we can. That is a promise".

"She's not my sister, Mr Churchill", the brunette nodded in her parting, lifting her hands to raise her cowl. Winston only had to dart his keen gaze to one of them, instantly realising the truth upon seeing the silver band sitting on her left ring finger.

You weren't Lydia Frye's sister— you were her wife.

Weeks had passed with no word from yourself or in regards to the investigation. Lydia grew more anxious with each day that silence claimed.

"Wipe that worried off your face, Lydia Frye", she snapped from her daze with her grandfather's voice pulling her to reality. "Your fretting is making me fret".

The brunette giggled at the lighthearted expression on his weathered features, "Apologies, Grandfather. I had no idea such things were contagious".

"I have spent days worrying over others. It does not do well to dwell on these things, Sweetheart. My heart tells me that they'll find (Y/n) and bring her home", Jacob sighed. "Evie and I trained you both. I know your capabilities more than most, as well as hers. (Y/n) is strong and forthright. If I know her as well as I think, she is fighting to get home to you".

"I feel helpless, Grandfather", Lydia's smile saddened. "All I can do is wait and it kills me to not be able to—".

"Walk in there, guns blazing to get her out?", Jacob drawled with his peppered brows raised knowingly. Lydia's mouth parted to speak, opening and closing as if in shock that her grandfather knew her better than she knew herself. "You see?", he laughed. "That's the Frye blood in you. The urge to jump into danger, without thought if it means saving someone else".

"You think that I should resist it?", she cocked a brow expectantly.

"No", Jacob's head shook with that signature Frye grin. "I ask you to use it wisely. Pair it with an unholy amount of patience, if you must. But, if it's one thing I know, it's that you and (Y/n) are blessed to have each other".

Lydia's smile flourished again, if only for one thoughtful moment, "Christmas will not be the same without her".

"I don't doubt that either".

Lydia returned to the big city, to her home in London in time for Christmas Eve after making merry with her grandfather over many days in the countryside. Always, his visits were uplifting, reminding her of her rebellious youth beside you.

Easily, she was able to recall your shared studies together, seated on the grassy plains just outside her grandfather's property. Braiding your hair and weaving friendship bracelets from daisies and forget-me-nots.

Your first kiss in the cool spring breeze, swearing yourself to her side. If Lydia chose the destiny of an Assassin, you decided the same fate for yourself.

You'd spent every Christmas together since you were both five years old. Now, you had quite literally disappeared from the face of the Earth, leaving Lydia beside herself in preparation for a night she'd decided to spend patrolling the streets during whatever festivities that were being held.

Refastening her bracer, the brunette finally relented to the idea of taking this walk in the open air, if only to forget the absence of your warmth in your now cold house.

Opening the front door, Lydia froze, sure that she was hallucinating. There, you stood on the frosty street, hand raised to knock on the door of your own home.

Your hair was messily braided, strands matted together in a mixture of ash, gunpowder and mud. Dark circles sat under your usually bright hues, clothes battered and one arm carefully cradled in a sling.

"(Y/n)?", Lydia blinked, her words no more audible than a breath.

To your sore and heavy eyes, your wife was a gift. Mouth parted, the glittering hazel in her hues growing wide in her shock and porcelain skin marred with the obvious lines of worry that only did more to pronounce her beauty.

Having only emerged recently from the horrors of the warzones, from the violence and unlimited dangers you were forced to face on the daily— including your injuries, you trembled. You could hardly believe you were home, alive, never to go back.

Your chest tightened suddenly, face crumpling with the tears you'd long been holding in since you left for the battlefields. "Lydia", you choked out, stumbling the remaining few steps between you on weak legs.

Her arms engulfed you eagerly within seconds, suffocatingly tight. "You're alive!", you heard the wonder and relief in her sobs as she clung to you. "I've missed you, I— I was so worried that you—".

"I know. I know—", you stammered, gasping for breath through your tears. "We were ambushed by Templars some weeks ago. I couldn't save everyone— I couldn't—".

"Shh, now", Lydia hushed you, pulling back to cradle your face in her palms. So warm and full of life. Just as you'd remembered in your dreams. "What matters is, you're home safe".

Her smile, just as wicked as her grandfather's, ensnared you all over again. You waited no longer, taking her lips in a fervent and long-awaited kiss beneath the dangling mistletoe.

"You must have missed me just as much", Lydia offered a lighthearted joke, gasping through the next contact of your lips.

Your mouth curled against hers, murmuring, "Winston Churchill sends his regards".

"Bless his heart", Lydia sighed, eyes growing misty once more. "He really did it. He got you home on Christmas Eve".

"So did you", you breathed out, watching it crystallise in the breeze around you. "No one would have found me— thought to look for me, if it weren't for you. You never gave up on me, Lydia".

"I never will", her forehead met yours, gaze as adoring as the day you'd stood in your own private altar in the countryside. "Not ever".

Her lips warmed the tip of your nose, irking you to giggle. "Going somewhere this evening?", you bit your own lip to restrain your teasing smile.

"No", Lydia's head shook with her own devious smile. "At home with the wife tonight. We have a lot of catching up to do this Christmas".

The End. . .

__________________________________________

Hello, all!! 🥰

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to every single one of you!! 🎄☃️🎉🥳💖🫂

I hope you've all had the most spectacular holiday season, however you celebrate it! I wish good health and good fortune for your Christmas and the year ahead, but also to thank anyone and everyone who has supported my works this year. I'm grateful to you, including all of the friends I have made in this fandom and beyond! Thank you all!! You're magnificent ❤❤

As always, please tell me how I went with writing these with any feedback you have. I hope you all enjoyed!! If you wish to be a part of my taglists for this fandom or any of the ones I write for - check out my Masterlist and let me know!!

~ Elena ♡

-

TAGLIST; @deadlymistletoe

[slythernnn]

Love love loveeee this wig so much

[celiababy]

Ain't Right part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's the holiday season and Joel is a Scrooge.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, oral sex (m!receiving), SQUIRT, creampie, threats of violence, alcohol

Celia's note: uhm hello??? what the flip thank y'all sm for all the love on my first post!! I got so many requests to make a part 2 so dinner's ready y'all dig in!!!!

Read the first part! > part 1

Jackson looked so pretty this time of year. The Christmas lights, the snowmen, the comfy sweaters and chocolate chip cookies; you loved it all.

Especially gift-giving.

To you, there was really nothing better than seeing someone's face light up when they open a present.

This year, there was someone special you planned to go all out for.

It had been 3 days since Joel Miller fucked you in his house, on his bed.

You hadn't stopped replaying the moment in your mind, especially the part when he finished all over your stomach.

However, it just so happens that after those amazing thirty minutes, Joel was called away by Tommy.

He had to leave and do something that you weren't allowed to know about. Undoubtedly some dangerous mission that pained you to think about.

So your victory was short-lived.

But, like the gentleman he was, he walked you home and made sure you were okay before he left. You wanted to kiss him goodbye, but felt too nervous to do so.

You don't know why—he literally had his cock in you a few moments prior.

Yet you couldn't, and just had to watch him walk away.

Now, you haven't seen him in three days and were starting to get serious withdrawals. Whatever he was up to couldn't have come at a worse time.

You finally had the taste of his perfection, now he was gone, leaving you to deal with your desire alone.

You tried to preoccupy yourself with helping set up all the Christmas decorations around town as well as baking an absurd amount of treats.

You also managed to get him a little gift in the meantime, stuffing it in the cutest box with the prettiest wrapping paper.

God, you hoped he'd come back soon.

And luckily, he did!

You had heard from Maria that everyone had returned from their trip—safe and sound.

She had also told you that she was throwing a little Christmas get-together at her and Tommy's house to celebrate.

She was careful to mention that Joel would be in attendance.

So, that night, you whipped up your signature cinnamon apple recipe and put on your cutest outfit.

You topped it with some fuzzy reindeer antlers because you were in a very festive mood.

As you walked alone to Maria and Tommy's, you were freezing your ass off in your skirt and sweater. You wore tights with your skirt in hopes that it would help with the cold, but who were you kidding?

You didn't care, though. You just cared if Joel thought you looked pretty or not.

You pranced up the steps of their porch, letting yourself into the house and getting immediately bombarded by the hoard of people inside.

Maria made it seem like it was going to be a small thing, but the entire Jackson population seemed to be in her living room.

Thankfully, Tommy catches you come in and walks up to greet you. "Hey there stranger," He grins, looking down at the dish in your hands. "What you got there?"

"Brought desert," You chirp, handing it to him with a proud smile.

"Well well," He muses as he takes the glass container from you, looking it over with surprise. "Didn't think you could tie your own shoes, let alone bake anything."

You roll your eyes before scoffing. "You're just mad because I can tie my shoes and bake something before you can conjure a coherent thought."

Tommy fakes a wince before chuckling. "Alright, touché kid. We're gonna be playing charades in a little bit so stick around, alright?"

You nod, having absolutely no intention of 'sticking around' for charades. Tommy wanders off with your apples, finally giving you a moment to survey the party.

Obviously, you were looking for one person in particular.

You squeezed through all the crowds of people, scouring what felt like every room in the house.

But no dice.

Joel was nowhere to be found and sadness washes over you like a tidal wave.

Was he doing this on purpose?

Torturing you by depriving you of his presence? This was hell.

You plant yourself by the special eggnog and down several glasses to take the edge off.

You were tipsy in no time, it really didn't take much. It was like Maria just dumped an entire bottle of vodka in the bowl and splashed some milk in it. It was disgusting, really, but it was getting its job done.

As you hunched yourself over the bowl, someone tapped you on your shoulder.

You spin around, your hopes high.

"Joel!—Oh. Hi Connor." The disappointment you feel inside displays clearly in your tone.

You're now face to face with the boy who has been unsubtly trying to sleep with you for months.

"Hey there! You look fucking great tonight." He flirts, a smug grin on his face.

You grimace because you know he thinks he's so cool, even though you'd rather die than stand here with him right now.

"Thanks." You say flatly, turning back towards the eggnog and pouring yourself another glass. For some reason, Connor takes this as an invitation to step closer, now invading your space.

You don't even bother trying to hide your disgusted expression. His cologne is attacking your nostrils, and it doesn't even smell good.

"That skirt looks amazing on you." His eyes unabashedly drag along the skin of your legs, making you shiver in disgust. He takes it too far when his hand comes up to brush your arm.

"You come here with anyone?" He coos, leaning against the food table like he was hot shit or something.

You couldn't stand this douche. Just as you were about to tell him to fuck off or something, you feel someone looming over you.

"She did." A gruff voice comes from behind you, and you immediately recognize that it could only be one person.

You whip around, your face lighting up at the sight of Joel.

His expression is settled into a natural scowl, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed at the boy in front of you both. Even though he looked scary as shit, he was so fucking hot.

You're instantly horny just at the sight of him.

Connor scoffs, looking between the two of you, but your eyes stayed glued to Joel.

"Really? Him? But he's like—an old man." Connor spits, which immediately earns a glare from you.

Just as you're about to cuss him out, Joel beats you to it.

"Walk away before this old man breaks your jaw." His voice is stern, not to be tested.

It makes your core tighten with need.

Hearing the threat that he assumes to be all too real, Connor doesn't waste time scurrying off.

You turn back towards Joel, a warm, relieved smile spreading across your face. “Hi,” You whisper, wanting to hug him so bad but holding yourself back because he wasn’t a big fan of PDA. “M'so glad you're back." You do, however, step closer into his personal bubble.

His face softens when he finally looks down at you, and you can almost swear you see his lips curling up into a smile.

"Yeah, me too, kid." He husks out, looking between you and the bowl of half-empty eggnog. "Enjoyin' yourself?" He asks with somewhat of a disappointed look on his face, clocking that you were a little tipsy.

"Now I am." You answer truthfully, beaming up at him. "Have you been here the whole time? I was looking for you earlier but I couldn't find you."

Joel shifted on his feet, sliding his hands in his pockets. "Just got here. Tommy was talkin' my ear off at the door." He explained, an exasperated look on his face.

You laughed and nodded, knowing you both shared that experience.

"Are you having a good time, though?" You ask, actually curious because he seemed like he would rather be anywhere else right now.

He shrugs, brushing a hand through his short hair. "This Christmas holiday crap is givin' me a fuckin' aneurysm." He huffs out with complete honestly, scratching the back of his neck.

"What? Really? Why?" The shock and bewilderment in your voice isn't lost on Joel.

He sighs out, knowing you're about to explain the magical spirit of the season or whatever.

"The blizzards, people spazzin' out over gifts, all 'cause some fat guy is coming down chimneys—s'all just ridiculous."

You want to giggle at how actually annoyed he sounded, but you hold it down.

Grouchy old man.

"I'd let you come down my chimney," you flirt, but then correct yourself. "I have let you come down my—"

Joel shoots you a glare, daring you to finish your sentence.

You know when to cut your losses, so you don't.

"Well, speaking of gifts," You start, rummaging in your bag to pull out your present for him. You hold it up, the pink wrapping paper making him cock an eyebrow. "Merry Christmas, Scrooge."

Joel feels an unfamiliar feeling swimming around in his stomach at the sight.

He slowly takes the box from you, looking at it like it was a puzzle.

He really wasn't expecting anything from you. But he supposed people who have had the other persons genitals inside them should probably give them something for Christmas.

He finds himself very pleasantly surprised.

After a moment, he finds something to say.

"Couldn't find some manlier wrapping paper?" He coughs, his voice low but it's obvious he's joking with you.

You roll your eyes and scoff. "Just open it!"

Joel somewhat grins at your impatience but finally starts to open the box.

That grin drops off his face after he sees the contents, an immediate bittersweet feeling swelling in his chest.

You're watching his face so intently, so scared that he didn't like it based on his reaction.

Joel pulls out the watch from the box, clutching it tightly. He's not saying anything, so you hear yourself start to ramble.

"Do you like it? I just saw that the watch you wear is broken so I figured I'd get you a new one. If you don't like it I can take it back."

You're starting to crumble underneath the weight of his silence, anxiety bubbling in your gut. Just as you're about to ask him if he's okay, Joel finally looks back at you.

"S'real great. Thank you." His tone is genuine, you can tell he's telling the truth. But why does he look so pained?

"Of course." Your murmur, your eyes searching his. After a moment of silence, you clear your throat. "There's one more thing, actually."

Joel's shoulder slump. "You got me another present?" He asked tiredly, looking at you with disbelief.

A guilty smile paints your face before you gesture for Joel to follow you. "It's upstairs. C'mon."

He doesn't know how much more his heart could handle.

Reluctantly, he follows you up the stairs, wondering why you had a gift waiting for him in Tommy's guest bedroom.

You open the door and close it behind you both, purposefully not turning the lights on.

Joel walks into the center of the room, standing aimlessly and confused as to why you hadn’t flipped the light switch yet.

But then he hears the rustling of clothes and when you eventually turn the lights on, you're wearing nothing but a bra and panties.

His cock immediately gets hard.

"What do ya think you're doin'?" He whisper yells, trying to keep his eyes on your face but that proves to be impossible because your tits looked so good in lace.

"What? You don't like it? I bought it for you." You give him a 360 and he has to brace himself against the bed.

Fuck you looked good.

He sits down on the mattress, dragging a hand down his jaw in thought.

He's debating if he's really about to fuck you in his brother's house.

Why were you always making him go against his morals?

A few seconds of silence pass between the two of you before Joel snaps his eyes back to your figure.

"C'mere."

Got 'em.

You squeal excitedly before running over, slotting yourself between his legs and placing your hands on his shoulders.

In turn, his large hands come out to hold your hips, his gaze zeroing in on your perfect-looking cleavage that he was now eye-level with.

Just as he was about to slide his hands up to grope your breasts, you sink down to the floor.

Joel's puzzled as he watches you get on your knees, looking up at him with those mischievous eyes. He truly has no clue what you're up to, that is, until you bring your lips to the bulge in his jeans.

You place the softest kiss on his clothed hard-on, earning a groan from him.

Now he knows what you're trying to do.

He juts his hand out, holding you firm by your shoulder.

"You ain't gotta do that, sweetheart." Joel says softly, probably the softest you've ever heard him say anything.

Your body erupts in goosebumps when you hear the endearing pet name slip so effortlessly from his lips.

"I want to—been wanting to since, like, forever." You murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his inner thigh.

Joel wasn't sure what to think right now.

His past romantic experiences taught him that blowjobs were a hassle for women—something that they did only if they felt they had to.

But here you were, looking up at him with those wide eyes and wanting nothing more than his dick in your mouth.

You surprise him everyday.

His dick has literally never been harder, especially when you finally start unzipping his pants to let it spring free.

You gaze up at him again, waiting for his green light.

Joel had one hand white-knuckling the edge of the bed, while the other gently caressed the side of your head.

He offers a short nod of approval, already trying not to come just by the sight of his cock so close to your face.

You waste absolutely no time in grabbing the base of his dick with both hands, gingerly licking at his tip to warm him up.

Joel throws his head back, groaning at the feeling.

You tilt it up so you can drag your tongue all the way up his shaft, then bring your mouth down on his tip.

"Fuck," Joel curses, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before snapping back open, not being able to look away from you.

Tears are falling from your eyes the farther you go down on him, the sensation of his head poking the back of your throat was making you dizzy.

But you don't stop. You're eager to please.

Your hands pump at the length you can't reach, while your warm mouth and tongue swirl around him.

You're too good at this, and Joel knows he's not gonna last long.

He can't help it when his hand in your hair turns into a fist, tightly gripping the strands like he was afraid you might go somewhere.

You moan when he accidentally pulls your hair forwards, forcing you deep on his cock. You bet he didn't even realize what he just did, based on the way his chest was heaving and his face looked so lost in pleasure.

You gag and more tears spill from your eyes, but you don't even dream about lifting off. If Joel was getting off on this, you were going to do more of it.

You moan, still keeping his cock in your mouth as you try to go even deeper down on it.

"Oh fuck—" Joel suddenly yanks your mouth off his cock, breathing heavily as he stares down at you.

You cough and sputter at the loss, looking up at him with that same fucked out expression you had last time.

"Why?" You manage to whine, wondering why he stopped you before he came.

Joel doesn't answer—instead he picks you up by your armpits and places you on the bed.

The quick change almost gives you whiplash, but Joel's surprisingly steady and husky voice guides you.

"On your stomach, pretty girl." He mutters as he taps your leg in a gesturing manner.

...Was he trying to kill you with that bedroom voice of his?

A whimper crawls its way out of your throat, your body having an audible reaction to his sweet words.

You flip over onto your stomach, instantly arching your back for him.

Being the impatient man he was, he rips your panties and throws them to the side in a lust-driven blur.

You literally didn't even care. Sure, they were new, but you'd just find another pair. The only two thoughts in your mind right now was Joel and Joel's dick.

Something warm and soft prods at your entrance before slipping to wedge between your folds, gathering up your slick.

You try to push back on it, but Joel holds you still, making you lose the rest of the small amount of composure you had left.

"Joelpleasefuckme," You sob, your cunt weeping for his cock. "need you so bad it hurts,"

You reach back, your hand finding his that was holding your hip and squeezing it.

Joel didn't want to admit to himself how much he loved the neediness in your voice, your obvious desperation made him harder.

"M'gettin' there, don't gotta beg me baby." He mutters, his hand that you grabbed intertwining with your fingers. His other hand was rubbing circles in the skin around your hips.

You feel that same sensation of his tip, but then Joel also brings his chest down to engulf your back.

You're already trembling, but when he begins to pepper kisses down the nape of your neck and back, all while slowly sheathing himself inside your pussy...

You effectively lose your mind.

"OhFUCKJoelloveitsomuch," You blabber, not having enough strength to hold yourself up anymore so your head drops into a pillow, muffling your moans.

Effortlessly, he pulls you back up so that your back is flush with his chest, his one arm wrapped around your stomach to keep you secure.

You rest the back of your head on his shoulder as she starts rocking into you, letting your body go limp because you know he's got you.

"Can you take it or do I need'a stop?" He asks, his tone making you dizzier.

You frantically nod, turning your head to the side to look at him. "I can take it, promise I can," you muster out between moans. "please don't stop—want your cock in me forever-"

Joel chuckles.

God, he really never stood a chance against you.

"I don't know about forever sweet thing, but I'll see what I can do for tonight, yeah?"

You giggle airily, like you weren't all there, nodding your head in acknowledgement. Your eyes are closed for a second but you feel his lips on yours, hungrily taking whatever they wanted.

You passionately return his kiss, mewling into it because his lips paired with the slow thrust of his dick was enough to drive you crazy.

The stretch of his cock is as close to heaven as you're ever gonna get.

His speed picks up which means your moans get louder, and Joel has no choice put to bring his other hand up and cover your mouth.

There's still a party going on downstairs, after all.

"Gotta be quieter baby," he pants, even though he's not slowing down his speed at all.

You whine into his hand, surprisingly loving the feeling of it because it's like he's swallowing you whole.

You feel that tight coil in your stomach slowly start to come undone, and you know you won't last long now. You try to tell Joel, but his hand is muffling your noises.

All the sudden, he speaks in your ear—his voice low and raspy. "Don't want you doin' this with anyone else, hear me?"

...Well.

You weren't expecting that.

His words probably made you soak the sheets because of how wet you became.

He sounded so stern when he said it too, making your heart flutter even more.

You nod, tears pouring from your eyes. He lets his hand off your mouth for a moment and you immediately jump at the opportunity to speak.

"Only want you, only ever wanted you, Joel—m'all yours, always been yours," You mewl after gasping for air, your body jolting with each of his deep thrusts.

"Fuck," Joel swears, quickly but carefully putting you down only to flip you over onto your back. Now in missionary, he buries himself all the way inside you again before dropping down so your faces are centimeters apart. "All mine, huh?" Joel reiterates, and you can't tell if he's mocking you or maybe asking for clarification.

Probably the ladder.

You agree nonetheless, a string of yes's spilling from your mouth.

"Yeah, just for me." He pants, slamming into you with more vigor than before. Your cunt is constricting around him like a vice, he's—not planning to last much longer either.

"M'gonna cum," you whine, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for support.

When Joel hears this, he drops a hand down to rub at your clit, making you come undone altogether.

"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck waitwait Joel-" You feel something..unique boiling, but then Joel's expert fingers release the flood gates.

You scream as you squirt all over his cock, your entire body writhing with the overstimulating pleasure.

Your juices soak him. When he see's this, he comes immediately.

He groans as he finishes inside you, unloading into your snug cunt. The feeling is incomparable for the both of you.

Once the haze of perfect pleasure dissipates, Joel realizes what he's just done.

"Shit," he grits, pulling out and watching his seed drip from your hole. "Fuck."

You manage to sit up on your elbows, looking up at him with teary eyes. "Don't worry," Your voice is quiet and cracked—you just had the squirt fucked out of you, after all. "I've been on the pill since we had sex the first time."

Joel looks down at you, stupefied.

Eventually, he feels his heart start beating again and huffs out a sigh of relief. "Thank christ." He leans back against the headboard, raking a hand through his hair and thinking about how that was a fucking close one.

You're lying next to him, still trying to catch your breath. "That felt so good," You manage to murmur, your body still shivering from the after shocks.

After you catch your breath, you turn your head to look up at him. "M'serious about what I said, about bein' yours."

He looks at you and your serious face for a moment, then brings his hand down to gently ruffle the top of your head.

"Yeah, I know you are." His texan drawl prominent.

"I'd let you brand me with a fire poker if thats what you wanted." You say flatly, no joking tone in your voice whatsoever.

Joel is taken back by the sudden jump in intensity, assessing you to make sure you were being for real.

You were, and when he realizes this, he shakes his head. "You've lost your damn mind." He grunts, dragging a hand down his face.

You shrug.

"I think a ring would do the trick." Joel mutters, not meaning for it to have some kind of underlying message or anything. But you're quick to jump to conclusions.

"A ring?" You squeal, moving to lay on his chest which earns a huff from him. "Didn't know we were already goin' steady like that, Miller!" You tease, the giddiest smile on your face.

"I didn't mean—quit. You know what I was sayin'." Joel grunts, looking at you with an unamused expression.

You don't quit though.

"My ring finger is a size 6, would love 2 carats but if you can swing for 3 that would be perfect—also, I hate silver bands, it has to be gold—but make sure it's not that super yellow fake gold, I like more rustic looks, I mean, if that wasn't obvious-" You cast him a glance, alluding to the fact that he was rustic looking.

Joel rolls his eyes before gently nudging you off him, getting off the bed and walking over to your clothes that you discarded a long time ago.

You continue rambling from your position on the sheets, staring up at the ceiling as you recited, in extreme detail, how you loved oval shaped diamonds the most.

He walks back over and manhandles you to sit up. "Lift up your arms." He mutters, putting your sweater back on you.

"Hm, gettin' some serious deja vu right now." You murmur, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, yeah, hush." He grumbles before sliding your tights and skirt back on as well.

The act is so kind and heartwarming. You mumble a thank you before standing up, almost falling back down because your legs were still a bit weak.

Joel made a motion like he would've caught you, reaching his arms out. "Careful." He warns, planting a hand on your lower back for stability. You giggle and nod, regaining your ability to walk slowly but surely.

You guys tried to discretely walk back down the stairs, but with Joel's hand on your back and your happy expression--it wasn't hard for people to guess what happened.

***

A couple days had passed since Tommy and Maria's party.

You were finishing up some hand-made Christmas cards on your desk when you heard a knock at your door.

"Coming!" You shout, leisurely making your way to the front door.

When you open it, no one's there. You look around, only seeing a familiar male figure walking away in the distance. When you step outside to shout after him, you feel yourself kick something.

Upon looking down, a small velvet box lays at your feet.

You pick it up carefully, opening it to reveal a gold ring placed so delicately inside. The small note inside reads:

Merry Christmas. -Scrooge

[esouliie]

COME FIND ME, MY LIGHT.

(natasha romanoff x reader)

summary | What began as an attempt to bring Christmas back to Natasha turned into something deeper as both of you realised that love is what truly warms the heart this season. By Christmas Eve, Natasha wasn’t just in love with the holiday again: she was in love with you, and maybe- just maybe- you had been in love with her all along too.

tags | christmas fic! hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, dead family trope, alternative universe so no avengers, you’re both a bit sad! :/

notes | i want a christmas love like this so what better way to manifest than by writing a fic abt it hehe. this was also inspired by my fav person’s return to tumblr and her love for the holiday - @please-destroy, thank you for inspiring this by just being you! this is also a part of your gift, surprise!! everybody, go read her stuff now. it’s truly amazing!

word count | 5K

Merry Christmas!! ⊹♡

Since the moment you met, you knew Natasha carried a storm inside her. It was always tamed, hiding just beneath the surface of her eyes. But, from a year of friendship, you’ve noticed that storm that seemed to erupt around this time of the year. Being your only friend, she was always the one to accompany you on your trips out around the city. It’s there where you noticed the way she flinched at carols and avoided the cheerful chaos of Christmas markets you brought her too, by moving through it as fast as she can. The world’s merriment seemed to mock her darker memories. She confessed one night, in a rare moment of vulnerability and a very expensive bottle of wine, that Christmas had always been a painful time for her. Her voice, usually steady and unwavering, softened as she looked at you across the table. She told you about her sister, Yelena—the only person in her family who had ever truly cared about Christmas. Yelena had been the kind of person who could find joy even in the bleakest of places, someone who refused to let the world’s coldness harden her heart.

“She loved it,” Natasha said, her lips curling into a wistful smile as if she could still see Yelena bustling around their childhood home. “The lights, the snow, the decorations. She’d drag me into whatever shop she could find, looking for things to make the house even more festive. Ornaments, candles, the cheesiest, most stupid Santa hats—whatever she could get her hands on.” She paused, her gaze unfocused as though she were looking back through the years.

Yelena had been the one to make Christmas feel like magic. She knew all of the Christmas carols, singing along even if the notes were slightly off-key. This joy followed her into her adulthood, and even when she became sick. Every year, she insisted on stringing up lights around their shared apartment —“even if we don’t have a tree, Natasha, we’ll have lights. You know it’s all about the glow.” She was fearless, mischievous, and relentlessly stubborn in her belief that joy was worth chasing, even if it didn’t come easy. “She’d bake,” Natasha continued, her voice thick with emotion. “Not well obviously— she couldn’t stand for long at the point. Plus, her cookies had always been terrible—but she didn’t care. She’d make a mess everywhere and laugh at herself, daring me to do better. I never tried, though. I always just watched her and took her to bed whenever she was done.” Her fingers tightened around the stem of her wineglass, her knuckles whitening slightly. “She believed in traditions, even when there was no reason to. Especially when there was no reason to,” she added, “she said traditions gave people hope, something to hold on to in the dark. I didn’t get it then—I still don’t fully— but with time, I understood she was trying to help me be okay with the world when she was no longer around.”

Yelena had been more than just a younger sister to Natasha —she had been her tether, her mirror, her light. She was the last person left of her family, and the only one who ever made Natasha feel things she often tried to ignore: a steady warmth, a strong connection, the possibility of life being worth more. She was everything Natasha wish she could be.

And when Yelena died, Christmas died with her.

“There was no one to care about it anymore,” Natasha said, her voice breaking for the briefest of moments before she pushed the emotion back behind her walls, blinking her tears away. “No one to make it mean anything.” You reached across the table, placing your hand over hers. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t meet your eyes either. For a long moment, the two of you sat in silence, the air between you thick. “She would’ve liked you,” she murmured after a while, her voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it. “Yelena… she always liked people who made things feel… safe.”

Your chest tightened, the weight of her words settling deep in your heart. You realised, in that moment, just how much Natasha trusted you—how much she had given you by sharing this piece of herself. From that moment, you made a promise to yourself: a promise to return Yelena’s light back into her life.

⊹♡

One morning, you found yourself lost on a tree farm. Rows upon rows of evergreens stretched out like soldiers in formation, their frosted branches from the night before glistening in the morning sun. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, the crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound for a moment. Natasha walked beside you, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her coat, her eyes on swivel but not necessarily looking at the trees. She hadn’t said much since you picked her up that morning, you weren’t entirely sure if it was the early start or the occasion that silenced her.

“This one’s nice.” You said, gesturing to a stately Fraser fir with almost symmetrical branches. She stopped, gave the tree a quick once-over, and shrugged. “It’s fine.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, moving along until you could find the next one. You had planned on finding a tree that you both could put up at her place, but with each step, it seemed like this tree would be better suited living at yours. You tried again. “What about this one?” You pointed to a taller tree, its branches also slightly uneven but full of character. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I guess. If you like it.” Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t inviting either. You let out a small breath, watching it cloud in front of you before dissipating into the icy air.

“No, we can keep looking.”

Laughter and the occasional clatter of a fallen tree echoed through the air. You couldn’t see them mostly but could imagine families adorned in colourful hats and scarves scattered across the farm. Natasha, however, didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes back to skimming over the trees with a detached disinterest and her surroundings, her mouth set in a way that told you she’d rather be anywhere else.

“Do you want to go home? You asked gently.

She paused, her head tilting slightly as if weighing whether to respond. “You wanted a tree,” she said finally, her voice even. “So we’re getting a tree.”

“It’s not that important.” You said. “If you’re not into it, we can go.”

Her jaw tightened. “I’m fine.” She said, her voice clipped. Then, softer: “Let’s just look over there.”

You didn’t press her further.

The two of you wandered deeper into the farm, the trees becoming denser, their branches heavy with snow. You found yourself wondering if Natasha even saw them, her eyes not even bothering with her environment anymore as she kept her head down towards the snow, her mind clearly somewhere far away. “How about this one?” You tried again, stopping in front of a modest blue spruce. Its branches were sturdy, the kind that could hold up heavy ornaments, and its shape was pleasingly perfect. She stopped beside you, her eyes lingering on the tree. She didn’t say anything right away, and for a moment, you thought she might dismiss it like the others. But then she tilted her head, considering.

“It’s okay.” She said, and while it wasn’t glowing praise, it was a step up from fine.

“You sure?” You asked, not wanting to push.

She nodded, her gaze lingering on the tree a second longer. “Yeah. It’s fine.” She finished, before turning abruptly back in the other direction. Later, the workers secured the tree to the roof of your car, their cheerful banter filling the space as you and Natasha stood off to the side. She didn’t say much, but when you glanced over at her, you thought you saw her mouth twitch—just the faintest hint of a smile. “Thanks for letting me tag along.” She said quietly.

You offered her a small smile. “I’m glad you came.”

⊹♡

Snow finally began to settle permanently in the middle of December. It clung to the rooftops and frosted the tree branches outside your apartment. Winter had truly arrived. You hadn’t seen Natasha since that morning; her work had whisked her off to the West Coast for an urgent business trip, leaving you to decorate the tree in your tiny apartment alone. Your living room was silent except for the soft hum of a holiday playlist you’d set to shuffle, but you were used to the lingering echo since moving in.

You missed her terribly.

Without Natasha here, you were unable to focus on anything but yourself: your terrible breakup last Christmas that had you packing your bags and running away to a different state, your argument with your family that had been the last time you’d spoken to them and the reason why you weren’t invited home this year, your sadness that crept up whenever you were forced to sit in silence with yourself. Deep down, you know she could see through you, could see how you suffered much like she did. It’s why you both clicked together instantly. But the difference with Natasha is that she never pried, never pushed you to talk about what you weren’t ready to say. And it wasn’t like you wanted to dwell on these things, but they lived inside you now, demanding attention in the silence.

Your ignorance was bliss, until it wasn’t.

And days when Natasha went away were the worst.

The doorbell rang at a late hour. Behind it stood Natasha, her coat dusted with fresh snow, her cheeks flushed pink from the nipping cold. She looked exhausted, her carry-on slung over one shoulder and her laptop bag in the other.

“You’re back?” You blurted out, wondering why she was here and not at her own place. It was Wednesday after all.

“I wanted to see you.” She admitted, shuffling awkwardly at her confession.

You pulled her through the door, allowing her a second to set her bags down with a tired sigh, her shoulders finally dropping as the door clicked shut behind her. “How was the trip?” You asked as you moved toward the kitchen, already reaching for the kettle and her mug.

“Exhausting.” She replied, shedding her snow-damp coat and draping it over the back of the chair. “And frustrating. Clients were indecisive, as usual, and the meetings went in circles half the time.”

You gave her a sympathetic look as you handed her a steaming mug of tea. “At least now you’re done for the holidays, right?”

She hummed in agreement, her fingers wrapping gratefully around the warmth of the cup. Despite the drink, you noticed her shiver and disappeared into your bedroom. You rummaged through your drawers, pulling out an oversized purple sweatshirt and some grey sweatpants.

When you handed them to her, she raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to—”

“You’re not sitting around in wet clothes, Natasha.” You cut her off, gesturing toward the bathroom. “Go change.”

By the time she emerged, looking infinitely more comfortable in your clothes, you had noticed the snow starting to pick up outside. Large flakes swirled under the glow of the streetlamps, a storm intensifying.

Perfect weather for what you had planned.

You grabbed a spare hat and scarf from the coat rack, along with a pair of gloves, and tossed them at her.

“What’s this?” Natasha asked, catching the items with a puzzled expression.

“We’re going out.”

“Out? In this weather?”

You were already pulling on your own coat and boots, ignoring her protests. “Yes, out. You’ve been cooped up in airports and meeting rooms for weeks. You need this.”

“I need sleep.” She muttered, but she already had her coat, reaching for the hat, her lips twitching as if she was trying not to smile.

“Come on. You urged, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the door.

The streetlights cast a warm golden glow on the fresh blanket of snow, and for a moment, she hesitated. Her reluctant smile cracked through the guarded exterior she so often wore when you were outside. It was like sunlight breaking through clouds. Looking down at her watch, she noticed the time read 1am. “Oh my God, it’s the middle of the night,” she moaned, shaking her head, “and it’s freezing!”

“You’re Russian.” You deadpanned. “Aren’t you genetically programmed to thrive in this?”

She shot you a withering look, but the corner of her mouth twitched, betraying her. “That’s not how it works and you know it.”

She turned back around towards your building but before she could move any further, the first snowball struck her shoulder with a soft thwump. She froze, blinking in disbelief. You stood a few feet away, grinning triumphantly, the remnants of the snowball crumbling in your hand. She swung back around, her eyes narrowed, lips parted in exaggerated shock. “Oh, so that’s how it is? These are your clothes you know!” Before you could reply, she bent down, scooped up snow, and hurled it at you. It hit squarely on your chest, the icy cold seeping through your coat.

“Hey!” You yelped, laughing.

“You started this!” She shot back, her voice light—playful in a way you rarely heard.

And then it was war. Snowballs flew in all directions, and the street filled with your laughter, echoing off the quiet houses. Natasha’s aim was deadly accurate, and you were sure she was holding back for your sake. It was quite pathetic. At one point, she feigned defeat only to pounce on you with a pile of snow that left you sputtering.

“You’re a cheat!” You gasped, brushing snow off your face.

“And you’re slow!” She quipped, already forming another snowball to smush in your face.

The cold stung your nose and turned your cheeks raw, but none of it mattered. What mattered was the way Natasha laughed—real and unrestrained, her head thrown back, the sound almost musical in the still night. It was the kind of laugh that felt like a gift, something rare and precious, and you never wanted it to end. Finally, both of you collapsed onto the snow, breathless and flushed. The stars peeked through the gaps in the clouds, and the world seemed impossibly quiet, save for the sound of your labored breathing. Natasha’s head rested on your shoulder, her knitted beanie (that actually belonged to you) slightly askew. “Okay,” she said between gasps, “I admit—that was fun.”

“You’re so welcome.” You teased, shifting to look at her.

“But that’s only because I beat your ass.”

She looked so beautiful in this moment. Her cheeks were rosy, the same shade as her damp hair where stray snowflakes had melted. She was at peace—something you wish you saw more of. You brushed a gloved hand against her cheek, then leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her icy forehead, unable to stop yourself.

“You were right. You’re freezing.” You murmured.

“Maybe.” She replied, her smile small. She shifted closer, laying her head on top of yours. “But I don’t mind.”

⊹♡

With both you and Natasha no longer at work, meant she could hang out with you more often. It was late one evening —you both had spent the day inside your apartment doing absolutely —when she insisted on a walk, claiming the air was getting "stuffy," though you suspected she just needed an excuse to stretch her legs.

Somehow, you had ended up in the suburbs in New Jersey.

“You know, this is kind of perfect.” She said, glancing over at you with a small smile. “No one’s out right now.” You laughed softly, the warmth of her gaze doing more to fight the chill than the layers you’d bundled yourself into. “Yes, well, the suburbs In Jersey are surprisingly magical when nobody’s around.” You joked, sarcasm evident, as you nodded toward the rows of houses strung with twinkling lights. It felt like something out of a postcard, the kind of scene you’d only read about.

The two of you turned a corner and were met with the soft harmony of voices carried on the wind. A group of carolers stood in front of a house, lanterns glowing in their hands as they sang “Silent Night.” Natasha paused, her steps slowing as she tilted her head to listen. Her expression softened, a rare kind of calm washing over her features.

“You don’t strike me as the caroling type.” You teased, bumping her shoulder lightly.

“I’m not.” She admitted, though her lips curved into a grin. “But... it’s nice, isn’t it? Peaceful.”

It was odd. This was the first time you’d seen Natasha act normal with the idea of Christmas.

“They make it look so easy.” She said after a while, her voice quiet.

“What do you mean?”

“They make it look easy believing in... I don’t know. The magic of it all.” She added, as her brow furrowed.

You turned to look at her, the soft glow of the carolers’ lanterns catching in her green eyes. “Maybe it’s not about believing.” You said after a moment. “Maybe it’s just about... letting yourself feel it. Even if it hurts, let yourself feel all of it.”

She stood quietly for a beat before adding, “Yelena loved this song.”

You stayed silent, letting the moment slip away as she became lost in the tune. Natasha's expression contorted with pain as the song finished and the group moved on, but made no move to leave. Without hesitation, you clasped her hand tightly, guiding her away and back in the direction of the city.

You both walked in silence the entire way home.

⊹♡

The next time you saw Natasha was the following weekend when she came over for a sleepover. You could tell the temperature had dropped even more just by the state you found her in at your door. You could only see her eyes. She was wearing your beanie again, with a scarf wound tightly around her neck and the exposed parts of her face. She carried a mismatched tote bag that practically bursted at the seams, the telltale sign of someone who couldn’t quite decide what to pack.

She’d never slept over before.

Well, purposely.

Later that night, in the cozy warmth of your kitchen, you began pulling out ingredients for gingerbread cookies, demanding the taller woman come stand beside you once her ‘bones were warm enough.’ Natasha remained perched on a stool, her favourite mug clasped in her hands, watching you with a raised eyebrow and a half-smirk.

"Our first sleepover. And you’re putting me to work? At this hour? I almost died coming over to see you.” She teased, glancing at the clock.

It’s nearly midnight.

"It’s time for midnight gingerbread.” You replied, beaming as you tied an apron around your waist. "It’s a tradition now."

Now?" She echoed, laughing. "This is literally the first time we’re doing this."

"Exactly, that’s how traditions start."

Natasha rolled her eyes but hopped off the stool to join you, muttering under her breath about wishing she had froze to death on the way over before tugging at your apron strings like a mischievous child, pushing you slightly away from your spot so she could fill it.

“Fine, let’s get this over with.”

The process was chaotic from the start. Natasha’s never baked before, and it showed. The first mishap happened when she cracked an egg with a little too much enthusiasm, sending yolk sliding across the counter. And from then, she managed to do nothing correct without your assistance. You were halfway through laughing when she retaliated by flicking a bit of flour at your cheek.

"Did you just—"

Before you could finish, she grinned devilish and dropped more flour over your head, “oh no, looks like you’ve got a little something there.”

Again, the process was chaotic.

Precision measuring gave way to messy improvisation as flour flew through the air in clouds of white. Natasha was unrelenting, chasing you around the island with a bag of powdered sugar like it’s a weapon. By the time you called a truce, the counters, the floor, and both of you were completely dusted with flour. "You look ridiculous.” You said, laughing so hard your sides ached. She wiped a streak of flour off her nose and smeared it onto your shirt. “Speak for yourself. You look like you’ve never seen the sun before.”

When you finally managed to clean up enough to resume baking, Natasha was benched to mixing the dough— far far away from the flour— but it took her all of ten seconds to abandon the spatula and dig in with her hands. “Are you sure this is hygienic?” She asked, grinning as she squished the dough between her fingers like it’s Play-Doh.

You’re pretty sure she doesn’t know what Play-Doh is.

"Absolutely not.” You replied, shaking your head. But neither of you cared. Somehow, The batter never even made it to the oven. After a mutual taste test—"for quality control," Natasha insisted upon —you realised you (she) had eaten most of it. "So, we’re out of ingredients." You admitted, licking a stray smear of molasses from your thumb. Natasha plopped down on the floor, leaning back against the cabinets with a satisfied sigh. “Good.” She said, licking a bit of dough off her finger. “The batter’s better anyway.” You sat beside her, the warmth of the oven lingering even though you never used it. The kitchen was a mess, the cookies a total failure, but none of it mattered.

You both fell asleep that night with the biggest smiles on your face.

⊹♡

Natasha ended up staying the next weekend too. Christmas fell on a Sunday, the big day seemed to sneak up on both of you, but for now, it was Christmas Eve, and the night stretched on, timeless and unhurried. After watching a few Christmas movies, the two of you found yourselves curled up in front of your fireplace — the fireplace being a YouTube video on loop coming from your television. The crackling flames painted your surroundings in shifting shadows, the room bathed in a burnt orange haze that made everything feel a little softer, a little more intimate. Natasha’s arms were wrapped securely around you, her presence grounding and warm. You hummed an old carol you heard once before under your breath, a lullaby that filled the quiet. Her hand traced lazy circles on your back, her fingers light but steady, as though she was trying to etch the moment into her memory. You watched her, unable to help yourself. The way the firelight kissed her skin, the soft rise and fall of her breathing, the peace in her expression— how rare it was to see her like this. Truly at ease. Vulnerable, but not guarded. You wanted to hold this moment forever, to preserve it for her in the way she deserved, and selfishly for yourself.

Falling for Natasha wasn’t difficult. From the beginning of the friendship, there was a constant undercurrent, a slow burn that never fully ignited, yet refused to fade. You fell in love with her so suddenly—in the quiet moments—that you couldn’t figure out when she became more to you than just a friend. Or if she was ever just that. And over the past year, you’d learned there was so much more to her than the cold, unyielding exterior she presented to the world. No one loved as much as she did. And now, as you sat basically on her lap, the space between both impossibly vast and unbearably close, you realised that falling for Natasha wasn’t just easy—it was inevitable.

“This is what Christmas is supposed to feel like.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper, like a thought she hadn’t meant to say aloud. As if she didn’t want to disturb the silence. Her gaze was distant, yet there was a softness in her tone that made your chest burn. You hesitated, the words catching in your throat before they could fully form. “You miss her.” You finally said. It wasn’t quite a question, but Natasha understood. Her eyes flickered to yours, that same vulnerability reflecting through. “I always miss her.” She admitted, her voice even quieter now, almost fragile. She didn’t need to say Yelena’s name; you knew. “It’s strange… even after all these years, I still expect her to be here sometimes. Like she’ll just walk in, scolding me for not keeping the lights on all day or dragging me out of the house to help on her latest conquest.”

Your heart cried out with something deep and tender, the kind of feeling no words could ever quite capture. “I’ve got something for you.” She looked at you, her brow furrowed slightly in curiosity as you stood and walked to the Christmas tree. From beneath its branches, you retrieved a small, carefully wrapped box and brought it back to her—one of many gifts you’ve bought for her. “This was supposed to be for tomorrow,” you said, sitting down beside her again, “but I think it’ll mean more tonight.” She took the gift, her fingers brushing against yours briefly before she began unwrapping it. Beneath the paper was a small music box, its pearl-coloured sides adorned with golden, intricate carvings. She opened the lid, revealing a tiny engraving inside: the words “My Light” in Russian reside underneath a picture of Yelena in her youth, dressed as an angel for a school nativity play, her beaming smile radiant and full of life.

Natasha’s breath caught, her fingers trembling slightly as she traced the edges of the engraving. “How did you—” she began, her voice breaking.

“You have to twist the key, Nat.” You said softly, closing the lid of the box.

She turned the key, the lid opening to reveal her younger sister all over again; as the music box began to play a gentle melody. But it wasn’t just music—it was a recording, faint but unmistakable hidden under the notes. The sound of Yelena’s voice filled the room, singing “Silent Night” with all the enthusiasm a child could muster for the slow song. Natasha’s hand flew to her mouth, and tears streamed freely down her face as the recording picked up another voice. It was quieter, steadier, but unmistakably hers. A younger version of her sang along with Yelena, their voices blending, only broken by their shared giggles as they sang together, sometimes stumbling over the lyrics. Her shoulders shook as she listened, and you reached for her, pulling her into your arms. She clung to you, her face buried against your neck, her tears damp against your skin, as sobs rocked her slender frame. You held her tightly, wishing you could somehow ease the weight of her grief and the bittersweet joy of this moment.

Her lips trembled as she tried to form words in the broke of your neck. “This…this is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. I don’t even know how you did this—” She pulled away from you to glance back at the music box, her fingers delicately tracing the engraved picture of Yelena. “She was my everything. The only good thing I had for so long – moya sestra (my sister), moy malen'kiy svet (my little light.)”

You nodded, squeezing her hand. “I know. And now you have her again, even if it’s just a little piece.” Natasha set the music box down carefully, as though it were made of glass. She leaned forward, confident in her actions, in her love for you—a soft kiss pressed to your lips.

She had never kissed you before.

She wanted to again.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

You leaned in, kissing her once again, the taste of salt comforting. “You deserve everything good in this world,” you said softly, stroking the remnants of her tears, “and you deserve love, Nat. I’ll promise I’ll remind you of that every day.”

You placed a delicate hand over her heart and spoke, “I see you. And in this light of yours, I see her.”

She kissed you again, softer and longer than the last, her lips brushing yours; fuelled behind every emotion, every feeling, every part of her heart that now belonged to you, “Thank you for giving her back to me.”

You smiled softly, brushing a stray red curl away from her face. "I promise to make every Christmas something worth remembering, for as long as I can. To remind you there’s always light to find, even in the darkest nights."

She leaned in, resting her forehead gently against yours. "You already have."

You smiled, brushing a stray red curl from her face. “I promise to make every Christmas something worth remembering for as long as I can. And to remind you of her light. With you. With Yelena.”

She leaned in, her forehead pressing gently against yours. “You already have.”

[whorekneecentral]

Tis' The Season

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: old friends reappear, flashbacks in italics, complicated relationships, expensive gifts cause it's lew lew duh, uses roscoe as an in, brocedes mention, alcohol and the consumption of, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), degrading, the use of 'slut' in a sexual context, penetrative sex (p in v), choking, creampie, soft moments at be end.

Word Count: 2,668

Author's Note: love me some lew lew and he gives fuckboy turned lover boy so here we areeeeee

merry smutmas series

--

An old friend finds his way to your front door and no matter how much you try to get rid of him, you can’t. 

A knock on the door startles you as you hung the ornament on your Christmas tree. You shout that you're coming, grabbing your wallet out of your purse, as you jog to your front door. You assumed it was your take-out delivery guy and that's not who it was when you opened the door.

The man smiles at you, bags in hand and puppy between his legs. "Hi beautiful," Lewis smiles at you, bundled up in his winter coat.

You huff, looking at him. "Hi Lewis.. what are you doing here?"

He lifts the bags, showing you. "Happy holidays, y/n. I come bearing gifts."

"Seriously?" You hold back the urge to roll your eyes, Roscoe barks and gets your attention, you crouch down to pat his side, the dog leaning into your hand before waddling his way into the house. Lewis doesn't stop him, smiling at you.

"Are you gonna let me in, love? Roscoe is already inside, it'd be rude to let me freeze out here."

You don't have the heart to let them freeze, especially since you know how Roscoe loves him so much.

You let Lewis in, the man takes his shoes off by the door and follows you down the hallway to the living room. Roscoe had already made himself comfortable, shaking off the cold, and lying down by the fireplace. Despite you and Lewis not talking for years, you had left Roscoe's dog bed by the fireplace, as it had always been, picking it up to clean and setting it back in its spot.

Lewis sets the bags on the coffee table, hanging his coat off the arm rest of your couch. "I didn't know if you still live here."

"Well now that you do, I'll have to move, won't I?"

He chuckles, smiling to himself - nice to see your sense of humour has remained.

"Go on, open 'em." He nods towards the gifts on the table. You were adjusting an ornament on the tree, "I don't want it, Lewis."

"Oh hush, don't be annoying, y/n. Just open it."

You rolled your eyes, sitting across from him on the couch and picking up the first bag, the shape was a give away. Carefully, you pulled the bottle of wine out of the bag, some expensive French wine that you two had once upon a time when you took a trip to France. You read the label, setting it down on the table gently.

"Expensive," you eye him and he smiles. "Open the other one." He says quietly, watching as you tear the wrapping paper.

You freeze, the orange box staring back at you, the signature black and white ribbon around the box; Hermes Paris written across the top.

"Lewis.." You look at the man and he nods, waiting for you to go on. You carefully undo the ribbon, taking the lid off of the box. There's clearly a bag in the box, wrapped in a dust bag.

You feel underdressed and dirty, as if you should have showered before opening such a gift. You take the purse out of the dust bag, a Birkin in Bougainvillea - the same shade you had seen so many years ago.

His arm rested over your shoulders, the two of you cuddled on the couch as Lewis flipped through the tv channels. Formula One had wrapped up for the 2008 season and your dearest friend Lewis was now a Formula One world champion.

You, on the other hand, were still in med school.

Lewis had come home for the holidays, a yearly tradition of trashy Christmas movies and Chinese take out had commenced, Lewis picking out something for you two to watch as you flipped through the magazine.

"This one," you tell him, nudging him with your shoulder. "I want this one." You show him the bright pink Birkin bag - in the shade Bougainvillea. It's unrealistically, shockingly pink but it was the newest colour in the collection and you wanted it.

"I'm gonna get this for myself when I finish med school and I'm a rich surgeon."

Lewis smiles, "I'll get it for you, love. No need to wait so long, consider it your med school graduation gift." He kisses your head.

They don't make this colour anymore, you're sure it must have cost Lewis a fortune. "How did you even.. they don't make this colour anymore." You examined the bag, setting it back into the dust bag carefully.

"I know people, y/n."

You hum, "it's too much."

"It's your gift, y/n. I promised you, didn't I?"

You smiled, nodding as you carefully set the bag back into the box. "Thank you Lew, really."

The man smiles, it's been years since he's heard you call him Lewis. You two had a falling out a while back, right after his first championship win with Mercedes - you didn't like the way he treated you, pushed you off to the side as if you hadn't been there for him through it all. Lewis was and still is career driven, it has and will always take first priority to him but it ruined your friendship and it had ruined the same special bond he had with Nico.

In this moment, you let all that go.

The doorbell rings, intruding on your thoughts. "Expecting someone?" Lewis asks, glancing at you as you set the Hermes box on the coffee table.

"No.. oh wait yeah, the take out guy." You say, getting up. Lewis waves you off, getting up and fishes his wallet out of his pocket. "I'm not a broke med student anymore, Lewis. I can afford to pay for dinner."

"As can I, so hush." He says, making his way down the foyer to the front door, paying the man.

You can hear bits and pieces of their hushed conversation, the man thanks him before the door shuts.

The bags are taken to the kitchen and you see him looking around, clearly looking for something. You decide to put him out of his misery, getting up to help him look for plates. Lewis stops, leaning on the counter as he watches you get the dishes out of the cupboard.

"I'm sorry." He says, his words catching you off guard.

Your brows furrow, looking at him. "What for?"

"For everything. What happened in the past… That was between us and I know that it was my fault, and I shouldn't have said what I said, but I truly am sorry. You don't have to forgive me, but I would just like to start over if you give me the chance."

"Okay," you nod, setting the plates on the table.

"Okay."

He joined you at the table, the two of you sitting quietly and eating dinner like you've done many times over the years. Tonight was different though, there was a sense of relief in the air as if this tension had been lifted off your shoulders after so many years. The quiet sound of cutlery clinking against the dishes and Roscoe's snores coming from the fireplace filled the house.

At some point after dinner, you were putting the dishes in the sink and Lewis asked if he should open a bottle of wine that he brought. You shrug, reaching into the cabinet to get the glasses while Lewis pulls the cork out of the bottle before filling the glasses half way.

The house is quiet as the two of you sit on the couch, Lewis handing you a glass of wine. It's a comfortable silence, Lewis takes a sip of his wine as he looks over at you; he can't help but notice how you've aged beautifully over the years, not in a you look old sort of way but the maturity you've come into seems to suit you perfectly.

Next to him, you seem to make the same realization but with him. Lewis what is a baby faced, starting to find himself boy when you two had you falling out. Now he was grown, and even more handsome than the day you had walked away from him.

You take the first step, setting the glass down on the coffee table before reaching for Lewis's glass, setting it with yours.

The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife, the two of you sitting there in silence, inching closer and closer with each passing second until he finally closes the gap between the two of you.

Lewis's hands find your hips, the man pulling you onto his lap. You settle against him as if you had always been there. His lips trail down your neck, hands slipping under your shirt.

"No," you whispered, your hands wrapping around his wrists. Lewis looked at you confused, wondering if he had done something wrong.

"What?"

"We can't do this here."

"Why not?" He asks and you nod towards Roscoe, the dog still fast asleep by the fireplace.

Lewis can't help but laugh, his forehead pressing to your shoulder. "Love, he's asleep. It's fine."

"Oh my god," you smacked his shoulder, "that doesn't mean we're gonna fuck in front of him."

He raises an eyebrow, "we're gonna fuck?"

"Don't be a fuckboy, Lew." The man ignored your words, his arms wrapping around you, picking you up with ease, carrying you down the hallway to your bedroom. Despite the years he hadn't spent there, nothing's changed.

Lewis drops you on the bed and you propped yourself up, watching him get undressed before he sits next to you, his hand cups your jaw and you smile at him. “Hi,” you whisper. 

“Hi,” he smiles at you, leaning down to kiss your nose and you scrunch it in response. “You’re cheeky.” 

“You love it,” he says, kissing your nose again. 

Lewis leans down a bit more and kisses you but you pull away, sliding off the bed. “We can't.” You tell him, about to walk away but he grabs your hips, pulling you to stand between his legs. 

Your hands rest on his shoulders, sliding up to rest on his jaw. His beard tickles the palm of your hand as you look at him. Lewis doesn't have to say anything and all the worries seem to slip away in the moment, it was as if you hadn't spent a single day apart.

The man pulls you down on top of him, his hands sliding down your back to rest on your waist as you sit yourself on his lap. 

“We-” you go to remind him once more but he cuts you off with a kiss. Lewis flips the two of you over, letting you lay on your back when he gets off the bed, he pulls you to the edge of the bed. 

Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Lewis always fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire.

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

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

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

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

Two fingers pushing into you, Lewis glances up to see your head tossed back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and your free hand groping your tit.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. Lewis pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness.

Your chest heaving, your grip on his hair loosening now that you’re right on the edge, you’re almost there and he just has to - he’s stopped. 

“Why'd you stop?” You sit up, a pout on your lips when you look at the man between your legs. 

“Shush, you love hanging on the edge,” Lewis tells you with a smile, unbuttoning his pants. 

He lines himself up with you, and Lewis lets you take him little by little, pulling out almost all the way each time before finally pushing into you all the way. He's in charge and you both know it, letting him set the pace; slow and steady and it was driving you insane.

You needed him.

You didn’t want slow, you wanted it hard and messy, the type of fuck where you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

“Lew, come on.” Your hand reaches to rest on his hand that’s on your hip. “Need more.”

“Do you?” He hums, moving a little faster.

You know giving him attitude won’t help but you can’t help but roll your eyes, “more than that.”

“Needy,” he calls, pulling you closer by your legs.

Finally, you get what you want, Lewis’s hips hitting the back of your thighs, he leans over you and your arms are pinned about your head, both legs up on his shoulders now. The angle was enough to push you over the edge but he didn’t care.

“Lew please-” you tried to wiggle your hands loose but he didn’t budge. 

“What’s wrong baby?” he asks, mockingly, “isn't this what you wanted?” 

“It is, but-” your head tosses back, back arched when he hits the spot he was looking for. 

“Oh,” he coos, smiling at you. “Is my baby so fucked out, she can’t even tell me what she wants?” His thrusts are sloppy, you knew he was just as close as you were. 

“Gonna cum-” you barely get out between strangled moans. Lewis finally lets go of your wrists and one of his hands has wrapped around your throat.

“C’mon sweetheart, want you to cum for me.” He says, knowing it won't be long more.

He watches as your eyes flutter shut and he reaches for you with his other hand, holding your jaw and pulling you up a little, your elbows holding up the weight of your body.

“Look at me when you cum.”

You’re forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, focusing on him. A few more sloppy thrusts and between that and his fingers, you’re over the edge.  He kisses you, muffling the noise you were making. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, Lewis follows behind you. 

The two of you are still tangled together, laying in bed next to each other. Lewis looks over at you, you look back at him with a sleepy smile on your face.

"Should I.."

"Should you.." you trailed off, waiting to hear what he says. Lewis shrugs, "should I go home?"

You take a moment to think, not about kicking him out - that was never an option but perhaps the things that lead you here.

There's a noise from outside the door, a sort of scratching. Seems like Roscoe had woken up and came looking for you two. Lewis takes the hint, getting up to open the door for the dog. You put on your shirt and your panties and Lewis lets Roscoe in, the dog jumping up on the bed with some assistance from his dad.

Lewis gets under the covers with you, Roscoe settled at the edge of the bed. You look over at Lewis, his hand resting on yours.

"I think you should." You tell him quietly and Lewis's brows furrow, a pout forming on his lips. "I should?" He asks.

You nod, "you should stay."

Lewis lets out a soft sigh, smiling. His hand squeezes yours gently. "I'll stay."

---

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

[toasttt11]

like me

summary: spending the holidays with your future in laws includes having snow ball fights and ending up by the fire with hot chocolate

jack hughes x reader

hhh masterlist

Being able to spend the holidays with family is always really special especially for her as spending the holidays has became something she grown to look forward to with the Hughes since she started dating Jack a few years ago.

They can’t always make it Michigan for the holidays and some times holidays are in New Jersey or Vancouver but what really matters the most is who you are with.

Lucky this year everyone’s schedules align well and they all could be in Michigan on Christmas Eve and Christmas day together. They even all get to celebrate the first Hanukkah together which made the time together even more special.

She got in late on the twenty third with Luke and Jack after the boys game against the Rangers and Quinn got in around the same time.

The four were all exhausted by the time they got back to the house in Michigan and all went to their own rooms.

She cuddled incredibly close to Jack all night always forgetting that Michigan had even colder winters than New Jersey.

By the time they all woke up a little before midday on Christmas Eve there was even more snow and quickly they all got on their snow gear and got outside.

Jack tossed a snowball at Quinn but Quinn turned and the snowball hit his girlfriend right in the face, Jack gasped looking extremely guilty, “Love i’m so sorry-“ Jack’s words were cut off by him getting hit in the face with a snowball.

Luke had thrown a snowball right in Jack’s face, “No hitting my sister.” Luke playfully glared as she laughed standing behind Luke’s extremely tall self.

“She’s my girlfriend!” Jack squawked in offense grabbing more snow in his hands as Quinn laughed at Jack’s face.

“Who you hit in the face!” She pipped in behind Luke grinning as she heard Jack make an offended sound and she peeked around Luke’s arm to grin at Jack.

“Traitor!” Jack playfully declared pointing at his girlfriend trying to hide his fond smile at her giggles.

Quinn smiled as he grabbed a snowball and hit Jack in the face when Jack was distracted and started laughing as Jack whipped his head to him.

“Oh it’s so on.” Jack declared tackling his older brother to the snow making the other two laugh as they enjoyed watching Jack and Quinn play wrestle in the snow.

She decided to plop down into the snow starting to make a show angel and Luke perked up and plopped down next to her making a snow angel too.

“Luke!” She laughed as Luke’s long legs started going through her snow angel.

“Whoops.” Luke sheepishly smiled as he saw he made her snow angels legs disappear.

They were so focused on their snow angels they didn’t realize Quinn and Jack stoooed fighting and now stood over them watching them.

Jack smiled mischievously and leaned down and quickly picked up his girl and gently throwing her over his shoulder making her squeal with laugher and cling to him.

“Jack!” She laughed as Jack pretended to drop her and he smiled at her bright loud laugher, his favorite sound in the whole world.

Jack laughed as she gripped onto him tighter as he spun her around her around even more before gently dropping her onto the snow and landing on top of her.

She laughed loudly as Jack squished her into the snow and started pressing kisses all over her cold cheeks and nose.

Jack finally pressed his cold lips to her cole lips making her hum and grab the back of his head pulling him even closer to her.

Jack flinched back as he got hit in the back of the heart with a snow ball and turned around quickly seeing Luke and Quinn laughing, “Really?” Jack questioned sending them an annoying glance.

Luke and Quinn just shrugged in reply making Jack groan.

“Are you four going to come in?” Ellen leaned on the back door with a fond smile, they have been outside for hours and soon the sun would start setting. It reminded her of the days her three boys would spend all day outside in the snow and on the ice playing together.

Ellen saw Jack lying on top of her in the snow and Luke and Quinn laughing together.

Jack stood up and held out his hands for her to grab and pulled her up out of the snow wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked into the warm house with Luke and Quinn.

“I’m gonna go shower.” She softly told Jack once they got out of their snow clothes and she was soaked and wanted to warm up.

Jack nodded and pressed a kiss to her cheek seeing that she was a lot more wet from the snow than any of them and her hair was really wet.

She headed up to their room and turned the warm shower on and got in sighing in relief at the warmth.

She stood in the shower for a long while just enjoying the warmth.

She got out of the shower in a big towel and smiled seeing that when Jack came up to get changed he left her a pair of his sweatpants, long sleeve shirt and a pair of socks that he put in the dryer for her as they are all very warm.

She happily put the warm clothes on and headed down the stairs seeing all of the Hughes sitting around the couch with the fire on and all of them had hot chocolate in their hands.

Jack looked up and smiled lovingly seeing her walking into the room and held up the side of his blanket for her to sit down next to him.

Jack wrapped an arm around her shoulder tucking the blanket around her and handing her a cup of hot chocolate he made for her.

She sigh happily as she took a sip of the hot chocolate, she always loves when Jack makes her hot chocolate and he always puts lots of marshmallows and candy canes.

She laid her head on his shoulder and Jack leaned down pressing a kiss to her head and inhaled realizing she used his shampoo and conditioner.

Jack absolutely loves when she uses his shower things because she smells like him.

“You smell like me.” Jack mumbled against her ear pressing a kiss to the side of head.

She smiled looking at him shaking her head fondly knowing how much Jack loves when she smells like him.

She laid her head back on Jack’s shoulder and smiled contently glad to be with her family for the holidays.

[reareaotaku]

Mary is the Girl that I wanna Fuck

Summary: As Miles' only friend, you are often put into uncomfortable positions, because he doesn't understand the difference between friends and lovers; Not when it comes to you Pairings: Yandere! Miles Fairchild x Fem! Reader Tw: Slight NSFW Part 2: She's the Only Girl I wanna Love

You tapped your pen on the desk as the teacher droned on and on. Your eyes roamed the classroom, before they landed on your best friend, Miles. Some people didn't like Miles, but you think it's because they didn't understand him. He was just... well, different, it wasn't his fault. Or at least that's what you told yourself.

He must have felt your stare, because he turned around making eye contact with you, before smiling and waving at you. You quickly returned the gesture, before you grabbed some paper, wrote a note, put it on the floor and pushed it towards him. He looks towards the teacher, making sure she wasn't looking before grabbing the paper and opening it up.

'God, does she ever shut up? Blah blah blah... This class blows'

Miles feels a smile grow on his face. He quickly writes down a response, before tossing it back to you on the ground. He watches as you open the note, your mouth dropping, before your face turns a bright red. You looked up at Miles, seeing him thoroughly enjoying your reaction.

'Hope it isn't the only thing that blows'

If someone else were to see it, they wouldn't think too much about it, but you knew what he meant. You pushed the note in your bag, before looking back at the teacher and ignoring his knowing looks.

---

As the bell rings, you hurry to get your stuff packed. You feel someone standing over you and look up to see the man of the hour, Miles. You tilt your head, giving him a knowing look. A smirk overtakes his face when seeing the knowing look.

"Really funny joke."

"Only for you."

"Haha," You sarcastically joke, before rolling your eyes. You pull your bag up to your shoulder and walk with him out of the class.

"You got any plans for the break?"

You look at him a little confused. What would you possibly do during the break? Your home was across the globe and there was no reason for you to go back home, it's not like your parents would be there. "Plans?"

"Yeah. Plans. Like, are you staying at the dorms? Or are you going home?"

"Why would I go home?"

"Do you want to come to my place?"

You were surprised by his suggestion. He had never suggested you to come visit his place, especially since his parents had died. He never like going back home, so you usually spend it at the school.

"Your place?"

He looks at you like it was the dumbest question in the world, "Yeah. That's what I said."

"I-uh um.. Wow, uh, well-"

His brows frowned at your hesitation. Did you not want to spend time with him? You always spent breaks together, even before his parents' death, so why were you now resilient. Anger grew behind his eyes, but he quickly shook it off, not wanting start a fight, because then you really wouldn't want to go.

You rub the back of your neck, before reluctantly agreeing to go to his place for the holidays and his face lit up in a way you haven't seen in months- Not since... Well, yeah.

---

You don't know why you were surprised when you went over to his house, because you lived in a similar place, but it had been so long since you had been in a big home that it was kind of dysphoric.

He practically drags you around the place and showing you all around the house. He even takes you out to the stable showing you his favorite horse. A dark black horse, whose name you couldn't remember. He wanted to take you horse-back riding, but it was too cold for the horse to be out.

"Here, I want to show you my room. Oh, you'll love it- I can play some music for you." He says, his hand wrapped around your wrist as he drags you to his room, because honestly you didn't have much of a say.

---

"Watch," He pulls at some of the guitar strings, showing you his hands movements, before you follow his movements. He watches you closely as you imitate his movements, but ultimately failed.

You groaned, rolling your eyes, before removing the guitar and setting it to the ground. "This is stupid."

You hear him chuckle and he grabs the arm rest of the chair, pulling you closer to him, "It's not that hard, your fingers just aren't in the right place. Do you want to try ag-"

The door opens and you quickly look over your shoulder to see who it was. It was the Nanny- well Flora's nanny, you think? You didn't know her name, Miles told you it wasn't important. She stood there, looking surprised.

"You have... uh a guest?"

You remove Miles' hands from your body, while looking away from her, feeling awkward. Miles rolls his eyes, glaring at her for ruining a great moment between you and him and she sensed that.

The nanny, Kate, senses Miles' anger and decides to be quick with what she wants to say. "Dinner's ready.... So, um... Yeah- Also, keep the door open."

"Dinner?" You look towards the window, but there was dark curtains covering it, meaning you couldn't see how dark it was. You look back at her, "What time is it?"

"Oh, it's uh..." She looks down at her watch, "10 to 9."

"God, I didn't realize how late it was-" You stand up, but Miles grabs your hand, making you look at him.

"You're staying here, remember?"

Your eyes widen, before you slowly sit back down, "Right... Holiday break.."

He looks past you, making eye contact with Kate, "You can leave. There's no reason for you to stay."

You hit Miles' arm, giving him an annoyed look, "Miles! You don't have to be rude."

"I'm not. But I can be."

---

It was late now, the room nearly pitch dark, the only light from the moon. There was something about the house that gave you chills and you felt like you were being watched. You grabbed at your knees, squeezing them to your chest as you listen to all the sounds of the old house. It was one thing to sleep alone, but a whole nother thing to be alone in an unfamiliar place. You were scared...

You heard the door creak, causing you to freeze and you thought about looking towards the door, but you couldn't. You didn't want to know what was there. You heard it close and footsteps head towards you.

"I'm surprised you're still awake."

You recognized the voice; It was Miles. You looked towards him, letting out a sigh of relief. "Oh, it's just you," You put a hand on your chest, trying to calm down your breath.

"Who else would it be?"

"I don't know."

He sits on the edge of the bed, causing it to dip, before he ends up scooting towards the other side of the bed and laying next to you. "Are you okay?" He pushes some hair out of your face, giving you a worried look. "Are you scared?"

"Of what? Should I be?"

"No... Of course not." He caresses your cheek, a strange emotion swirling in his eyes, "But, do you want me to stay? Just... You know, so you're not so alone?"

"Won't that girl get mad?"

He rolls his eyes, removing his hand from your face, "Who cares what she thinks. She's just some nanny; She doesn't matter." He looks away from you while saying this, but his hand finds yours and grabs it. He then looks down at your intertwined hands, "Besides, she's not here and she'll never know. Come on... Just this once?"

"Okay... Just this once."

[astonmartinii]

a very mamma mia christmas [mamma mia part six] | formula one social media au

drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso and jenson button

flo's first christmas looms, her parents and the grid react accordingly

mamma mia / no more ace to play / honey, honey / the age of no regret / a wonderful thing

MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI?

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, sebastianvettel and 1,667,301 others

yourusername: if you couldn't tell, christmas is our favourite holiday

view all comments

user1: i forgot to consider the thought of a mamma mia christmas

user2: i am NOT ready

jensonbutton: are we just photographers to you?

yourusername: i tried to take photos of you guys but you just insisted on throwing each other into the snow every two seconds

jensonbutton: but i won?

sebastianvettel: i reject this

fernandoalo_oficial: AS IF YOU WON

user3: i think this is the proof that fernando will never retire

jensonbutton: @yourusername tell them i won

yourusername: well i can tell you who lost ... ME BECAUSE YOU GUYS WRESTLED IN THE SNOW AND COMPLAINED ABOUT BEING COLD THE WHOLE WAY HOME

sebastianvettel: ... at least flo found it funny

yourusername: she's a baby, she finds everything funny

fernandoalo_oficial: especially me though

yourusername: ENOUGH you're all getting coal for christmas

jensonbutton: WHAT

fernandoalo_oficial: WHAT

sebastianvettel: WHAT

user4: y/n actually has the patience of a saint i'd leave them in the snow

yourusername: can't drive 💔

user5: dads are all world champion drivers and mum hasn't even passed her test. this is what balance is

alexalbon: tHAT'S THE BUNNY I GOT FLO

yourusername: yes, she loves it very much (she even named it al)

lilymunhe: he's crying 👍

alexalbon: it's christmas and i'm trying not to succumb to baby fever :(

jensonbutton

liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel and 1,002,566 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, sebastianvettel & yourusername

jensonbutton: drawing straws to see who gets to be santa for flo's first christmas (and who has to be elves)

view all comments

user9: is everything a tussle with these people

yourusername: yes. this one is particularly amusing though

sebastianvettel: YOU RIGGED THE DRAW

jensonbutton: how could i rig it? I DIDN'T EVEN WIN

sebastianvettel: i'm not going as an elf ABSOLUTELY NOT

fernandoalo_oficial: you snooze you lose buddy

yourusername: not to stir the pot, but this was you guys' idea, so you can't chicken out now

sebastianvettel: no elf. i am going to be a reindeer instead

jensonbutton: if he's not being an elf then i'm not being an elf i'm going to be an angel 👍

yourusername: we already ordered the elf costumes ???

fernandoalo_oficial: make the grid kids dress up

yourusername: @charles_leclerc and @maxverstappen1 do i have news for you

charles_leclerc: if anyone should be an angel it should be ME

maxverstappen1: i should be the christmas star (since i am the star of this family)

charles_leclerc: if any of us have star power it's ME

yourusername: you won't even be elves for flo?

charles_leclerc: YES I WILL

maxverstappen1: DON'T BE STUPID

user10: yeah, yeah they're all dressing up BUT the real question is, do they now have cats as well?

fernandoalo_oficial: YES!! 😃 😃😃😃😃

user11: NEW MAMMA MIA LORE

jensonbutton: we were in the village centre when they were having an adoption fair... fernando insisted that cream cheese and salmon come home with us

user12: i feel like jenson did not get to choose the names ...

yourusername: nando insisted, said bagels are the foundation of our relationship

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by jensonbutton, sebastianvettel and 1,342,882 others

tagged: yourusername, jensonbutton & sebastianvettel

fernandoalo_oficial: i won !!! (both being santa and the gingerbread house decorating contest)

view all comments

user13: mamma mia household argument incoming....

yourusername: okay... WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WON THE CONTEST I CLEARLY WON I WILL NOT LET YOU CONTROL THIS NARRATIVE

user14: oh this is about to get real if y/n is getting involved in the arguments

sebastianvettel: nando, your house had the structural integrity of a flake

fernandoalo_oficial: IT DOES NOT

jensonbutton: i mean when we let flo destroy them all like a mini godzilla, yours did crumble first

fernandoalo_oficial: FAKE NEWS

yourusername: godzilla flo squished that bitch like a pancake

sebastianvettel: you can't win everything old man

yourusername: HALT WE SHALL NOT START THIS ARGUMENT AGAIN

user15: boooooooo let them fight y/n

user16: the way y/n and flo probably just sit back and relax while these idiots argue with each other

georgerussell63: gingerbread flo is so adorable !!

yourusername: thank you georgie (these guys think they're professional photographers now)

danielricciardo: woah @landonorris sub par f1 driver photography is our thing

landonorris: honestly old men, get your own hobby

fernandoalo_oficial: SUB PAR?

yourusername: he's pacing @landonorris @danielricciardo TAKE IT BACK

landonorris: no. i don't think i will

sebastianvettel: he's literally wearing a hole in my carpet from pacing MY CARPET

danielricciardo: tell him to stop being so dramatic flo looks rad af

jensonbutton: did you just call our baby rad?

fernandoalo_oficial: i'll take it, she is rad :)

user17: this is so close to my heart. if they ever stop publicising their lil spats i will die

user18: i wake up in a cold sweat thinking about how we won't hear about nando leaving cutlery in the sink, jenson letting beckett in the bed and seb forcing them all to garden

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel and 1,723,094 others

tagged: jensonbutton, fernandoalo_oficial & sebastianvettel

yourusername: seb cried when we chopped down the tree :(

view all comments

user21: someone get that man back in a car he's losing his damn mind

jensonbutton: he cried because i was just too sexy to handle when i chopped down a tree with an axe and my bare hands

yourusername: he's NOT wrong

fernandoalo_oficial: i understand the women in hallmark films now. lumberjacks are hot

jensonbutton: or it's just me?

yourusername: welp

user22: sorry seb but fuck that tree's life it looks so fucking good

user23: i'm so glad y/n isn't a sad beige mum

yourusername: tacky christmas 4 eva

lewishamilton: now that is a christmas tree wowza

yourusername: oh wow that means a lot coming from you

lewishamilton: i'm going to assume the guys weren't allowed within 10ft

yourusername: they were allowed to put the star on and pick where the homemade ornaments would go

lewishamilton: having seen their dress sense for the last 15 years, i think that was wise

user24: is seb like holding a grudge?

sebastianvettel: YES they laughed at me :(

yourusername: awwwww you baby, you're so cute

sebastianvettel: what if we've made a squirrel or a bird homeless :(

fernandoalo_oficial: there's a fuck ton of trees around i'm sure they're fine

jensonbutton: or maybe we hit them with our car on the way home

sebastianvettel: JENSE :(((((((

fernandoalo_oficial: i thought i felt a bump

yourusername: GUYS

user25: all i know is that i would not want to get into a fight with flo with these fools as her parents

sebastianvettel

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton and 1,288,493 others

tagged: yourusername, mickschumacher

sebastianvettel: you all laughed at the tree. jokes on you me and mick went and got a foster reindeer

view all comments

user26: no ever is ever as petty as a middle-aged man

fernandoalo_oficial: THAT'S WHAT THAT SOUND WAS

jensonbutton: DO WE LOOK LIKE A ZOO?

sebastianvettel: yes.

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm sorry but @mickschumacher this is why you weren't godfather

mickschumacher: NANDO

maxverstappen1: let me grab my popcorn

jensonbutton: mick we already have a dog and two cats and you let this menace get a REINDEER

sebastianvettel: he's a foster? don't talk to walter like he's not there

fernandoalo_oficial: mick you told me you were going for afternoon tea ?? i am so disappointed

mickschumacher: boo hoo old man this is why you lost 2010

yourusername: MICK?

user27: this man is well and truly off his rocker

yourusername: how long is walter here for?

sebastianvettel: he's got a bad foot :( but the sanctuary said he's great with kids 👍

yourusername: how would they possibly know that

fernandoalo_oficial: flo is not hanging out with a reindeer

sebastianvettel: not even a safe distance? :(

jensonbutton: from the window... STOP BRINGING WILDLIFE HOME

sebastianvettel: oh so fernando can bring home two surprise cats but i can't

yourusername: there is a wee difference between a cat and a REINDEER

charles_leclerc: does this mean when walter is better we can go for reindeer rides?

alexalbon: finally someone asking the real questions

yourusername: at this point you'll being coming to the north pole might as well throw in a reindeer ride as well

maxverstappen1: FUCK YES

jensonbutton

liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel and 1,008,653 others

jensonbutton: last time i was aware we only have one child ...

view all comments

user29: ELF MAX ELF MAX ELF MAX

user30: mia eating everyone up as usual

charles_leclerc: this is charles leclerc erasure of the highest order @sebastianvettel DO SOMETHING

jensonbutton: did you or did you not state: my ass looks too good in these tights, this can't go on the internet without a paywall?

charles_leclerc: i may have said that yes

jensonbutton: you are such a drama queen charlie

charles_leclerc: but we took other photos :(

jensonbutton: not everything has to be on instagram, that's what a mantlepiece is for

charles_leclerc: I'M GOING ON THE MANTLEPIECE ???????

jensonbutton: not if you keep being rude to me

charles_leclerc: sorry jenson :((((

jensonbutton: play piano for mia every night you're here and you're good

charles_leclerc: as if that's punishment

user31: charlie playing piano for flo is my favourite thing ever

yourusername: if we only have one baby, why do they all act like one?

fernandoalo_oficial: you insist on having all the grid kids over

yourusername: sue me i love them and i love how much they love flo

sebastianvettel: will you be saying that when we have to make breakfast for nearly 20 overgrown children

yourusername: DON'T LISTEN TO THEM BABIES HE CRIED WHEN HE READ YOUR GOODBYE MESSAGES

maxverstappen1: I KNEW I T

landonorris: me and mia really twinning here

yourusername: she really turned up, ate, got all the love and went back to sleep what a queen

danielricciardo: soz fernando i did santa better

fernandoalo_oficial: flo cried when you held her. so take that for what you will

danielricciardo: cried... from excitement

yourusername: she threw up on you

danielricciardo: FROM EXCITEMENT

sebastianvettel: you also cried?

danielricciardo: FROM EXCITEMENT?

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, maxverstappen1 and 1,934,788 others

yourusername: baby's first christmas xx

view all comments

user37: it's florence's world and we're just living in it

maxverstappen1: mamma mia christmasses might just be where it's at, love you guys and mia xx

yourusername: awww maxy, we love you !! thank you for coming

maxverstappen1: the christmas dinner banged and i got to hang out with mia YOU CAN'T GET RID OF ME

fernandoalo_oficial: i love this family :)

jensonbutton: he's crying, i can hear it from the kitchen - i love you all too

sebastianvettel: i think the holidays have turned my heart to a puddle can we kick these people out and have a cuddle pile?

yourusername: i love you all more (definitely)

fernandoalo_oficial: thank you guys for giving me flo, the biggest gift in the world

yourusername: wouldn't change it for the world

sebastianvettel: i love our little chaos

jensonbutton: the best christmas ever

user38: okay but next year can y/n remember she has a youtube channel and do vlogmas ....

user39: NEEDED

charles_leclerc: "kick these people out" i'd like to see you try

maxverstappen1: you're never getting rid of us

yourusername: well charles you've kind of conditioned flo to only fall asleep to piano so i'm afraid you can't leave

maxverstappen1: don't tell jimmy and sassy but i fear i have an emotional attachment to walter

fernandoalo_oficial: oh boy you've condemned yourself there

sebastianvettel: set your alarm max, we're on walter duty tomorrow

maxverstappen1: yay?

yourusername: flo and i will make sure there's a hot choccy when you get back

jensonbutton: i for one am proud of beckett for not dive bombing the christmas tree

yourusername: and he only chased cream cheese and salmon once and we can blame that on daniel

danielricciardo: FALSEHOODS

jensonbutton: did you not challenge the dog to a race that led straight to the cat tree?

danielricciardo: maybe? IT WASN'T MY INTENTION

note: ehehehehehehehehehehe feeling in a giving mood and finished this a lot quicker than expected. i FUCKING LOVE CHRISTMAS AND I FUCKING LOVE MAMMA MIA. i hope you guys enjoy, i am working on your requests.

mamma mia will return

taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa @tagteamedbitch@imagandom@mypage-myfandoms@mehrmonga@asparklysoul @unstableplant @motorsp0rt@multilovebot@lili-flower03 @its-elias-world @jolixtreesunn@nothingfuninthislife@rileynicol3@kodzuvk@mochimommy2002@fluffyspaceprincess@roseseraj@black-swan-blog27@nyrasslut@justdreamersdream@asfaraslifegets@why4anne@ineffableperson@leilanixx@lunyyx @pupbistro @gaypoetsblog@rafaaoli@champomiel@sadsierra2 @rainerax @lokietro @thecubanator2 @nzygftoji @rockyhayzkid @nmw-am @slytherheign @erikasurfer @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @greigreyhiyyih @duck-duck-goose-18 @dark-night-sky-99 @ironcowboycopnickel @sizzlingghostoperatorbagel @2bormaybenot @42ndbrokencompass @whotfisvale @lichterfee @sticksdoesart @glitterf1 @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @lighttsoutlewis @tagteamedbitch @glow-ish @sadg3 @kagatinkita @litoriaxu

[waitimcomingtoo]

Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter is all on his own for Christmas and you both know why

Masterlist

Peter pulled out his chair and took a seat at his empty table.

In another life, you occupied the seat beside him and ate together while you chatted about your days or sat in comfortable silence.

Now, Peter came home to the same cold, empty apartment every day. The sound of your laughter or the smell of your cooking haunted the place and lingered to constantly reminder of what Peter let get away.

Peter pushed around his dinner with his fork. It had been a while since any reached his lips. He was busy thinking about the nights when you’d fallen asleep while you waiting for him to come home from patrol. You’d always leave his dinner in the microwave with a love note taped to the utensils you left out for him. There were no notes to greet him anymore and he was feeling especially sorry for himself about their absence that night. To interrupt Peter’s pity party came a phone call that he answered without looking at his phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, honey.” Came a downcast female voice from the other side.

For a moment, the term of endearment made him grow hopeful that it was you who had called. He pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at the caller ID, making the hope leave as quickly as it came.

“Hi, May.” He sighed. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” She laughed in surprise. “You tell me. I feel like I haven’t spoken to you since there were still leaves on the trees.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I kept meaning to call.” Peter mumbled and looked out his window at the falling snow. It had been a minute since he picked up the phone.

“It’s all right. I’m just glad to get a hold of you now. How have you been?” May asked him.

Peter looked at the empty chair beside him again and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Fine.” He said after a minute. May was quiet for a minute and he could feel her dejection through the phone.

“I have to say, Peter, I’m a little disappointed that I haven’t heard from you in so long.” May admitted. “I finally got you on the phone and all you can tell me is you’re “fine”? Can I get anymore? What’s new in your life? What have you been up to?”

“I’m busy, May. I told you, I meant to call. But I have a lot on my plate right now. This is a really dangerous time of year.” Peter replied as he rubbed his tired eyes. He felt guilty for how little he reached out but that was currently buried under the anger he felt for her pointing it out.

“I know, I know.” She said quietly. “It gets really busy at the center around the holidays. But it only takes a few seconds to send a text.”

Peter could hear the sadness in her voice and let out a sigh. He let go of his anger for once and nodded his head.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I should’ve checked in more.” He mumbled as his eyes drifted to the empty chair beside him again. Your ghost materialized in front of him as his mind went back to December of last year.

last Christmas

“You should really call her.” You said when you saw Peter decline another phone call from May.

“I said I’d do it later tonight.” Peter grumbled before taking two bites out of the dinner you left out for him. You made a choice not to comment on his sharp tone because you could tell he was already upset over something.

“I know. But you said that the past two nights and you still haven’t done it. I stopped by the community center before to check in on her and she seemed really overwhelmed. I think a call from you would really cheer her up.” You said in a calm voice. Peter stopped eating and looked at you with annoyance.

“You stopped by the center? Why?”

“To eat with her. We usually take our lunch breaks at the same time so I-“

“I don’t need you to babysit my aunt, okay” He cut you off. “That just makes me look worse for not calling her.”

“Then call her.” You stayed calm even though his tone was hurting your feelings.

“I don’t need you to tell me when to call her. Why are you always on me about this?” He snapped and walked away from you.

“Because, Peter. You know how hard the holidays are for her without Ben and your dad. You are the only family she has right now. If you keep putting off calling her, your relationship isn’t going to last. And you aren’t really in a position to be losing family.” You said as you followed him. Peter stopped in his tracks and turned to looked at you.

“Are you seriously trying to guilt me into calling May by reminding me my parents are dead?” He asked you with hardened eyes that told you he was not about to listen to anything you were about to say.

“That’s not what I’m doing, Peter.” You sighed. “I’m just saying that you and her are each others only family and it’s important to keep your bond now that you’ve moved out.”

“I’ll call her when I want to call her, okay? The two of you are being so annoying about a damn phone call. You’re not my mother and neither is she so the both of you need to get off my back. Just stop being a bitch about it and…” Peter trailed off when he realized he’d gone too far and the look on your face told him exactly how the rest of the conversation was going to play out.

“Nice.” You smiled tightly and walked away. Peter followed after you as guilt for the entire conversation settled in.

“Where are you going?” He asked as you put your jacket on.

“I’m leaving.” You said without looking at him.

“To go where? It’s already dark outside. And you haven’t eaten yet.” He tried to reason with you as he followed you towards the door.

“I’m gonna eat with May. She usually always sets out an extra plate anyway.” You mumbled and grabbed your purse. Peter panicked and stepped in front of the door. He was worried that if you left right now, you’d never come back.

“Wait, honey, please. I’m sorry. I should never have used that word. Can we just talk?” He pleaded. You started into his eyes for a minute before shaking your head.

“I can’t talk to you.” You said as your eyes dropped to the floor.

“What do you mean?” He asked nervously.

“Because I don’t think you want to hear what I want to say. And that’s why you keep avoiding me.” You replied and looked him in the eyes. Peter felt his face grow hot. He didn’t realize you had noticed that. For the past month, he’d leave early in the morning to go to work and stay out all night on patrol. You only saw him when he stopped home to eat and even then, you barely got a word out of him.

“Well. I’m listening now. What do you have to say?” He asked, practically daring you to do it. He watched your eyes brim with tears as you gave him a shrug.

“That I want to breakup.” You said, taking all the air out of room.

“There you go.” He smiled sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”

“It was, actually. It was really hard to watch you change into this person. This person who calls me a bitch and ignores calls from the woman who practically raised him. And it really sucks that this is the way things ended because I liked you so much in the beginning. For the first three months, I was the happiest I’d been in my life. But everything is different now. I really thought I saw a future with you but if this is how it’s going to be then I’m out.”

“Baby, come on.” Peter whispered pleadingly. “Out? I had one rough week.”

“It’s been more than this week, Peter. You’ve been shutting me out all month. You’re never around anymore and when you are, it’s like I can feel in the air how annoying you find me. I feel like I’m going to get in trouble every time I speak. And it’s not just me. Your aunt-“

“Wait, you told May about this? We have one problem and you run and tell on me to my aunt?” Peters eyes narrowed as his remorse hardened into anger.

“I didn’t tell on you.” You said pointedly. “I just talked to her because I didn’t know what was going on with you and I figured she could help.”

“Well, what did she say?” He asked with his attitude in full effect once again. You stopped being angry for a moment and reached out to touch his face. Peter wanted to lean into your hand but he restrained himself.

“She said December is a really hard month for you.” You said quietly. Peters eyes welled up with hot tears and he looked away from you so that you wouldn’t see him crying.

“If you ever wanted to talk about your parents-“

“I don’t.” He cut you off. “Not with you. You don’t understand.”

“Peter-“ You began and tried to hug him. He stepped out of your arms and took a step back from you.

“No. If you want to break up, then let’s break up. It’s not like we were in love or anything.” He snapped, making your arms slowly drop to your side. In the four months you’d been dating, you hadn’t said it yet. But you felt it. You both felt it.

“Is that how you feel?” You asked him. Peter didn’t look at you but nodded his head.

“All right. Then I guess we agree. We’re broken up.” You said in a weak voice as you folded your arms. Peter said nothing and kept his eyes on the floor. You passed by him suddenly and went into a cabinet above the microwave that he couldn’t reach so he never used. Peter watched you curiously as you pulled out a small wrapped gift and handed it to him.

“What’s this?”

“Your gift. Merry Christmas, Peter.” You smiled quickly and went for the door again. An immense feeling of regret hit Peter at once and he gently took your arm. You looked him in the eyes and an apology almost escaped his lips but died in his throat.

“Merry Christmas.” Was all he could say.

“I’ll be at Mays. Don’t worry. I won’t tell her what you told me. You don’t need her to bitch at you too.” You said as you opened the door. You were about to walk out of it when you stopped and looked at him.

“Peter?”

“Yes?” He asked with hope that you’d run back into his arms and let him make things right.

“Please, don’t call.” You requested before walking out of his life.

“Peter? Are you there?” May asked on the phone, brining him back to present day. He wiped the tears that had fallen down his face and nodded his head.

“I’m still here, sorry. I’m sorry for all of it.” He said in a quiet voice.

“It’s all right.” She said sympathetically. “Listen Peter, I really have to get back to the center. Please call me more often. I miss you. And I’m always, always here for you, okay?”

“I miss you too, May. I’m sorry again. I love you.”

“I love you too, Peter. Goodnight.” She replied before hanging up. Peter was alone once again but this time, with a plan.

The next day, Peter walked into the Community Center where May worked with the intention of surprising her. He greeted a few faces he recognized before walking to Mays office.

“May? You in here?” Peter asked as he pushed open her door.

“Peter?” You asked, making him freeze at the sound of your voice. Your eyes met after a nearly a year of no contact. You were sitting at Mays desk with a laptop but quickly shut it and stood up. Time was strangely calm as you moved towards Peter. To his surprise, you pulled him into a hug.

“It’s good to see you.” You said as you rubbed small circles onto his back. Peter came unstuck finally and wrapped his arms around you. He really needed that hug. You laughed a little in surprise over how tightly he hugged you before pulling out of the hug.

“What are you doing here?” He asked as he stared your face in disbelief.

“Oh, um. I work here.” You smiled sheepishly. “I’ve been here about a year now. Did May not tell you that?”

“No. She didn’t mention it. But we don’t, uh, we don’t really talk much.” He admitted.

“Right. I remember.” You smiled tightly. “Well, she’s out right now helping to deliver some groceries. She should be back within the hour. Do you want to wait for her?”

“Yeah. I guess so. Where can I stay so I’m out of the way?” Peter asked and looked around. He felt embarrassed for how little he knew about the place his aunt put so much work into.

“I was actually about to go on my lunch break. You could hang in here if you want.” You told him as you got your food out of the refrigerator. You could feel his eyes on you and that he had something he wanted to say. He looked very timid and you had a feeling he was having trouble getting his words together.

“Can I…can I go with you?” He asked in a quiet voice. You smiled softly and nodded your head.

“Come on. Follow me.” You beckoned him with your finger and he quickly followed you. You brought him to the employee cafeteria and found a quiet corner all to yourselves. Peter watched in curious silence as you unpacked a lunch similar to the ones you used to make him.

“Have you eaten yet?” You asked and held out half of your sandwich. Peter shook his head but didn’t take the sandwich.

“I’m all right. You eat.” He replied. You shrugged and started to eat your lunch. Peter had a million things he wanted to say to you but no idea where to begin. You could tell he wanted to talk but you decided it wasn’t your job to lead him there. If he had something to say, he needed to say it.

“You, um, you look great by the way. I like the shorter hair. It’s very pretty.” Peter said without making eye contact. You smiled sadly at how shy he sounded and put your food down.

“Thank you. It’s easier to manage this way.” You said as you smoothed down your hair. “I’d return the compliment but you look like you haven’t slept since the last time I saw you.”

“I don’t think I have.” He laughed sadly and rubbed his eyes.

You sat in an awkward silence for a moment as neither of you knew where to take the conversation next. Peter was looking around the room until his eyes landed on you. They looked so remorseful and tired that you almost pulled him into another hug.

“So, what are you doing for the holidays?” You asked to break the silence.

“I’ll probably just stay home and keep my radio on. It’s a pretty busy night for crime.”

“I’ve heard. Lots of break ins. Usually at houses where a child has been left home alone.” You replied, making Peter crack the tiniest smile.

“Exactly. There’s these two guys I really need to keep an eye out for. They break into peoples houses and turn all the faucets on.” He played along.

“Oh no.” You clicked your tongue. “That sounds pretty serious.”

“It is. So I’ll be super busy that night.” He nodded. You both laughed lightly but still felt a little uneasy being around each other.

“So I take it you’re not gonna spend Christmas with May?” You asked in a more serious voice. Peter gave you a sad smile and shook his head.

“No. I don’t think so. I think I’m on my own this year.”

“Peter, you know she’d love to have you. No matter what your relationship looks like right now.” You assured him.

“I know. And that’s the toughest part. Knowing she’d welcome me with open arms despite how awful I’ve been to her. I live ten blocks away yet I can’t be bothered to see her more than a few times a year. She’s too forgiving. I don’t deserve it. Not right now, at least.”

He was talking about May, but what he said could also be applied to his relationship with you. The toughest part of sitting there and catching up was both of you knowing exactly why you weren’t celebrating one year of dating right now and getting ready for a second Christmas together.

You didn’t know what to say so you turned your face and pretended to look at a nearby calendar. He wasn’t exactly deserving of your forgiveness either, something you both knew as well. And yet, you were aching to give it to him.

“It’s okay.” He said to break the silence. “I think a Christmas on my own will serve me some good. I never liked the holidays anyway.”

“Right. I remember you being a bit of a Grinch. You never wanted to window shop or walk around to look at the lights. I never understood why.” You laughed softly. Peters eyes quickly found the ground and he felt them well up with tears.

“I’m, um, I’m really sorry. About last year, I mean.” He said in the smallest voice you’d ever heard from him.

“Peter, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to bring it up. We don’t have to talk about that.” You waved your hand.

“It’s not fine. I wish I explained myself better when I had the chance. You were so excited about spending Christmas together. I left our relationship on the line because I didn’t know how to communicate.”

“Well, I’m here now.” You said and put your hand over his. “What did you want to explain?”

Peter froze at the contact and slowly looked into your eyes. You gave him a sad smile and rubbed his hand with your thumb to let him know it was okay.

“When you ended things that day,” he began, “it came as such a surprise that I got mean and defensive instead of listening to you. I have spent every day since wishing I just shut up and heard you out instead of agreeing that we should break up. I wish I fought harder to save us.”

“I appreciate you saying that, Peter. I do. But I don’t really see how it was a surprise that I ended things. I mean, no offense, but don’t act like you were kind. We were practically living together yet barely speaking. Towards the end, I felt like I was just haunting your apartment and you were trying to sage the place to get rid of me.”

“I know. I know I really messed up. And I’m sorry it took you breaking up with me to realize how shitty I was to you. I don’t blame you for leaving. I just don’t know how you ever stayed.”

“Well, it wasn’t bad the whole time.” You told him. “The first three months were amazing. At your best, you were magic. I was completely enamored with you. That’s why I stayed. But then, I don’t know. Things were different. You changed so quickly. I went from falling in love to feeling like I was slowly dying in your apartment while I waited for you to come home from patrol each night.”

“That sounds miserable. Jesus. Why didn’t you break up with me sooner?” Peter wondered.

“Because I knew that wasn’t you.” You told him. “I could tell you were going through something. I just didn’t know what it was. And the hope that things would return to how they used to be kept me around.”

“And they never did. Instead, I called you a bitch and drove you to leave.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. As he did this, he fully registered what you had said. You had just told him you were falling in love. The tips of his ears became hot and he rubbed his eyes quickly so you wouldn’t see that he was emotional.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for all of it. For everything I did and didn’t do. I would change so many things if I could go back.” Peter said as he stared blankly ahead. You gave his hand a gently squeeze, making him look at you.

“I know it’s none of my business anymore. But we’re here and I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to ask you again. Why do you hate December so much? What made you so angry that month?” You asked him. You could feel Peter tense up and he immediately stopped making eye contact with you. Instead, he stared at a Christmas tree in the corner of the room and let his eyes glaze over.

“It’s just…it’s a really hard month for me. I know that this is supposed to be the happiest time of the year but all it does is remind me of what I lost. I can’t see poinsettias without thinking of my mom. I can’t go into stores without thinking of my dad taking me to every jewelry store in New York to find a necklace that May would like. And every bakery I walk past makes me think of my uncle. All December does is remind me that everyone is gone now. I get so depressed that I push away the people I have left until it’s just me and my anger. I did it to you last year because I convinced myself that I was going to lose you anyway and now I’m doing it to May. And I don’t know how to stop.”

You and Peter sat in silence for a long time after that. Your lunch break had ended five minutes ago but you weren’t going anywhere. You looked each other in the eyes after a beat of silence and you reached forward to wipe tears from Peter’s face. His bottom lip started to tremble so you pulled him into a hug. You stayed like that in the calm silence of the room and just held each other.

“Well now I feel really bad for calling you a “grinch” a few minutes ago.” You said quietly. To your surprise, you felt Peter laugh as he pulled out of the hug.

“It’s okay. I am one. I literally punched a snowman yesterday on the sidewalk because it-“

Peter’s sentence was cut short by your lips meeting his. Once his initial shock wore off, he melted into you and kissed you back. He cupped your face with his cold hands and pulled you closer to him to make yo for lost time. You kissed him until you both couldn’t breathe and had to pull away.

“I think I just felt my heart grow three sizes.” Peter said breathlessly.

“Shut up.” You laughed. “I really need to get back to work now. Do you still live near that bodega with the good muffins?”

“I do. I ate a bran one this morning.” He told you.

“Okay, well that’s disgusting.” You grimaced. “But can I come over later so we can really talk?”

“I would love that.” Peter smiled and nodded his head.

“So would I. Come on. Walk me back to the office.” You said as you stood up and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took it and followed you back to the office. When you walked in, May was waiting for you.

“Oh. Peter!” She exclaimed and pulled him into a hug. “What a nice surprise. What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, May.” Peter said sheepishly. You watched them as the hug lingered as both of them desperately needed it.

“So, May, Peter was just telling me he didn’t have any Christmas plans.” You interjected.

“Well you’ll have to come over then.” May insisted. “It was just going to be me and Happy and you know I always make too much food. We’d love to have you.”

“Are you sure?” Peter hesitated. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Impose? You could never. It would mean the world to me to have you there. We can finally catch up.”

“He’ll be there.” You answered for Peter, knowing he was reluctant to let himself be forgiven.

“I’ll be there.” He echoed and gave May a smile. May smiled back and pulled him into another hug.

Peter left the center with a very different feeling in his chest than the one he arrived with. He was starting to feel whole again after feeling fragmented for the better part of a year now. Snow fell on his head as he walked to his apartment and he found himself enjoying the feeling of it.

When your shift ended, you arrived at Peter’s apartment promptly at 6 o’clock. He helped you out of your jacket and brought you to his couch, where you spent the next two hours catching each other up on the past year. As you spoke, you looked around his apartment to see if anything was different. Your eyes immediately gravitated towards a little Christmas tree in the corner of the room.

Peter had only one ornament hanging on his tree. Right in the center was a heart made out of air dry clay. The words “I love you” were painted on it in bright white letters. It was your gift to him the year before and the only reason he put up a tree that year. Without one, he would have nowhere to display the reminder that at one point in his life, he did something right.

“You hung up my ornament.” You said as you turned to him with a smile.

“Of course I did. It’s the best gift I’d ever received.” He told you.

“That ugly little clay thing was the best gift you’ve ever received?” You laughed in disbelief.

“Not the ornament itself. You telling me you loved me.” He said in a soft voice. You smiled sadly and nodded your head. Things were so different now from when you first made that ornament. You had made it to tell him you loved him for the first time but it ended up being how you told him goodbye.

“I felt it too, by the way.” Peter continued. “I know I never said it. And I definitely didn’t show it towards the end. But I loved you too.”

You looked at the ornament one more time before turned to Peter and wrapping your arms around his neck, taking him by surprise. He hesitantly rested his forehead against yours to be closer.

“If you’re about to tell me you want to try again, I don’t deserve it. I made you miserable.” Peter said with eyes full of remorse.

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “But what if I wanted to try again anyway?”

“Why would you do that? Why would you forgive me?”

“I don’t know. Would “tis the season” be an acceptable answer?” You asked, making Peter laugh softly.

“No. It would not.”

“I know you think you don’t deserve to try again.” You said. “But I feel like I understand you so much better now. And I know you know better now than to shut me out. We’ve different people than we were a year ago. Why not give us another shot?”

“I don’t know.” Peter sighed. “What if I hurt you again?”

“I know it’s a lot. Why don’t you think about it tonight and when you figure it out, you can call me?” You asked him.

Peter met your eyes and nodded his head, satisfied with that compromise. You stroked his cheek with your thumb before getting up off the couch. You slipped your jacket back on while he thought about everything you had talked about that day. Just as you were about to walk out his doo, you stepped back in.

“Peter?” You asked.

“Yeah?”

“Please, call me.” You asked him with sincerity. Peter smiled a little and nodded his head.

“I will.” He promised. You smiled in return and left his apartment.

You hadn’t made it to the lobby of his building before your phone rang in your pocket.

Tag List 🏷️ 🎄

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@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade-blog @boogywoogywoogy

[thesparkling-diamond27]

Meet me under the mistletoe

Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader

Summary: Five times your boyfriend is clueless and the one time he uses his brain to figure it out

A/n: I’m in the Christmas spirit so I figured I would write something with Fiyero and Christmas🎄🎁. I hope you like it!! I also added the Harry Potter theme for Christmas because that’s what my family is doing this year, so you get a little snippet of what my family and I do for Christmas :)

You hate winter.

You hate the change in weather.

You are more of a summer girl and love to bask in the warmth of the sun and feel the cool breeze through your hair. You hate the frigid, icy cold air that makes your hands hurt and causes your nose to run. You hate how the sun set several hours earlier in the day, making it seem like midnight by eight. You hate how dead the tress look and the absence of flowers.

But there is one thing that you do love about winter and it’s Christmas.

Coming from Emerald City, Christmas is a big holiday and especially for your family. Your family goes all out every year with the decorations, the food, desserts presents, etc. It’s no wonder that their love for the holiday passed on to you and when you arrived at Shiz that didn’t change.

Every year during Christmas time, your room gets turned into a winter wonderland, you bake a bunch of Christmas cookies, listen to cheesy Christmas music, and even set up a medium sized Christmas tree in the corner of your room.

Your family does different themes for Christmas each year and (this year you’re doing harry potter and you’re so excited) they ship off a box full of decorations for you to use for your room.

Your roommate went home for the weekend for their cousin’s birthday, so you asked your boyfriend Fiyero to help. It was Friday, and he was still in his 4:00 class, so you figured that you can lay out all the decorations on top of your bed, so that you two can start right away once he gets here.

You just placed the star of your tree carefully on a nearby chair, when you noticed a small brown box with an envelope taped on top. Must be from mom and dad you thought.

You carefully pulled the envelope off the box and opened it up to read it. It said,

Hello Dear,

I hope this box brings you good cheer before you come back home for Christmas. We left a little extra something in the box for you and Fiyero. We hope you like it!

Love,

Mom and dad.

For me and Fiyero? You thought. But what could they have gotten for me and Fiyero? You had a bunch of questions that could only be answered with opening the small brown box.

You picked up the brown box to reveal a leafy green plant with white berries attached to a neatly tied bow. The bow was attached to a string so you slipped your fingers through the loop to get a better look at the plant.

After close examination, you realized that your parents gifted you mistletoe for you and Fiyero. You blushed at your parents gesture.

Your parents never sent you something like this, since you and Fiyero started dating a few months ago, and this was your first Christmas with a boyfriend.You felt a little embarrassed that your parents initiated for you and Fiyero to kiss, but you found the gesture sweet nonetheless.

Your eyes lit up as you thought about hanging it up somewhere before he arrived. Maybe above the door. No you thought. You’ll never get him to stay there. You thought about putting it on the tree, but soon realized that that would be a terrible mistake. Then your eyes landed on a particular spot and you thought it might not be too bad. In the middle, but not too obvious that it would give away your intentions.

…

The door slowly opened and you looked up, after placing an ornament on the tree, to see Fiyero.

“Hey Princess.” He said before walked over to you to place a kiss on top of your head.

“Hi.” you said with a smile. “How was class?”

Fiyero rolled his eyes, “Boring as always.”

You laughed at his response.

“But I’m glad that’s over, so that now I can spend some time with you and help you decorate your room.” He looked at my bed, “Is this what your parents sent you?”

“Yup.”

“Oztastic! Where do I begin?” He said enthusiastically.

“You can help me with the tree, but first…”

You walked over to your bed and grabbed a Santa hat before walking back to place it on Fiyero’s head. Once it was secure Fiyero jokingly posed like a model.

“And how do I look?”

“Eh.”

Fiyero showed feigned shock.

“I am shocked, appalled, flabbergasted-“

“I’m just kidding.” I interrupted, “You look handsome.”

“That’s more like it.” He said with a smile.

Fiyero kissed me softly before he grabbed some ornaments to help me with the tree.

….

Fiyero and you made pretty good progress in a short amount of time. You two finished decorating the tree, added some lights around the room and scattered some decorative trinkets. You even had time to take a break for some hot chocolate.You took the last sip of your hot chocolate and rose from your bed.

“Alright it’s time for the last decoration.”

Fiyero groaned from his position on your bed, but you ignored him and grabbed the garland that was sitting on the nearby chair. It was red, green, yellow, and blue to represent the different Hogwarts houses.

“It’s just one more.” You said.

You wanted to hang this now, so that you two can be officially done with Christmas decorating. However, you also wanted to see his reaction when he saw what was hanging up above from where you wanted to hang the garland.

Fiyero caved after seeing your pleading eyes and he joined you near the balcony doors. You slid the ladder towards him and he stepped up, so he could begin to hang the garland.

Your eyes watch the back of his head as he inched closer and closer to the mistletoe. Any moment he’ll see that plant and look back at you with a smirk, before planting a kiss on your lips. He got close and closer until his eyes finally landed on the plant.

But instead of turning around with a look of mischief, he paused before continuing to hang the garland. That was not the response you were expecting nor hoping for. Didn’t he see the mistletoe?

Fiyero quickly finished his job and he jumped off the ladder with a proud smile.

“The garland is done and now I think I deserve to be awarded.” He said with a smile.

“With what?” I asked curiously.

Fiyero walked slowly towards me. Maybe he did see the mistletoe and he wanted a kiss as an award.

“With cuddles.”

And before you could say anything he grabbed your hand and dragged you to your bed. You have always loved being in Fiyero’s arms, and it was one of your favorite places in the world. But you couldn’t help, but feel disappointed that he didn’t kiss you after seeing the mistletoe.

—————————

“Alright class that is enough for today. We’ll pick up where we left off on Wednesday.”

We all thanked Dr. Dilamond before exiting out of the room and to the hallway. You and Fiyero walked hand in hand through the Christmas decorated hallways. A smile graced your face as your eyes looked upon the school’s festivity. It was nice to know that Shiz loved Christmas just as much as you.

Fiyero and you reached the courtyard and you noticed a hot chocolate station. You figured it would be just what you needed to fight the bitter cold.

You tugged at Fiyero’s hand and suggested for you two to walk to the hot chocolate stand. Fiyero smiled in agreement and the two of you waited in the short line.

As you waited, your eyes wandered to a couple off to the side. The boy motioned above them where a piece of mistletoe was hung. The girl giggled before she brought the boy into a simple and sweet kiss. You tried to hint to Fiyero about the mistletoe and you were still confused why he did nothing after he saw the mistletoe the other day.

“Hey Fiyero look at the couple over there.”

Fiyero looked over and smiled at the happy kissing couple.

“Cute.” He said before turning back to the line.

“Don’t you see what they’re standing under?” You said as you tried to keep his attention on the couple and specifically the mistletoe.

Fiyero squinted his eyes before recognition appeared on his face.

“Oh isn’t that the plant that’s hanging above the balcony doors in your room?”

“Yeah.” You said with hope.

“Thats cool.” He said. And that was it.

It was your turn to get hot chocolate, so you let Fiyero take care of it, as you stared longingly at the couple who just pulled away from each other. You wish Fiyero understood what you were implying, but he didn’t seem to be getting the hint.

—————————

Finals were coming up, so Fiyero, Boq, Glinda, Elphaba and you decided to form a study group. You all were currently in Galinda’s room and taking a break from your studies.

Galinda was decorating her room with Christmas decorations, Elphaba and Boq were discussing about what had recently happened in Munchkin land, and you were currently curled into Fiyero’s side on Galinda’s bed.

You giggled as Fiyero tickled your neck with kisses. He pulled away and looked down at you. His eyes were filled with pure love and adoration and he sent butterflies in your stomach.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are princess?”

“Only every day.”

“Well in case I didn’t tell you today-“

Then Galinda came near her bed.

“Excuse me.” She said and sent me a wink. You gave her a confused look, but then she hung a familiar plant above her bed. Above Fiyero and you. Mistletoe. Galinda walked away like nothing happened and continued decorating her room.

You looked at Fiyero expectantly. You waited for him to kiss you, but instead he said,

“Now where was I?”

You swallowed your disappointment and tried to put on the best smile you could muster.

“Telling me I’m beautiful.” I reminded him.

“Oh right.”

He told you you were beautiful, but you didn’t hear him. You wanted to tell him that he should have kissed you, but you said nothing. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of something so small.

—————————

You figured that you had one more shot at getting Fiyero to kiss you under the mistletoe. Fiyero wanted to spend time with you after he hung out with his friends, so you decided to sneak into his room, since you knew he never locked it (which you always scolded him for).

However, it was times like this where you were glad he didn’t lock his door. It made sneaking in easy. You were glad his roommate was out with Fiyero because you don’t know what excuse you would have come up with to try to explain to him why you were sneaking into their room.

You shut the door behind you and you made your way to his balcony doors. Then you placed the mistletoe above the double doors. He’ll instantly see it when he walks in and he’ll recognize that it’s in the same spot that it is in your room.

The door opened and it was only Fiyero. His roommate wasn’t with him.

“Where’s Charlie?” You asked.

“He went with John to the dining hall.”

You nodded in understanding. Fiyero began to walk up to you, but he paused when he noticed the mistletoe. You inwardly cheered triumphantly.

“Did you put that there?” He asked

“Maybe.”

“Hmm.”

He was now standing in front of you and he placed a piece of my hair behind your ear.

“Why did you put it there?” He said with a smile.

“I figured your room could use some festive cheer.” You said as an excuse. You didn’t want to spoil the moment and the way it looked like it was going, it looked like he as going to kiss you. Which is what you wanted.

However, instead he grabbed your hand and lead you to his bed.

“Thank you.” He said, “You always know how to bring happiness into my life princess.”

I smiled at his words, but I still wanted him to notice.

—————————

Fiyero was working on an assignment for Dr. Dilamond’s class, while he was waiting for Galinda, Elphaba, Boq, and you to arrive. However, his mind was only focused on you.

He couldn’t help, but think that something was off. You acted like your normal, sweet, brilliant self, but he couldn’t help but think that something was bothering you. It wasn’t easy to notice, but after a few months of dating, Fiyero was able to notice different quirks about you.

Like how your tongue peaks out in the corner of your mouth whenever you’re concentrating hard. Or how your eyebrows furrow when you’re concerned. Fiyero noticed that your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes lately and this concerned him.

Fiyero wanted to make sure that you were okay, but at the same time he felt like it was his fault. He couldn’t explain why he felt this way, but he just did. Call it intuition.

“Fiyero!”

Fiyero looked up from his already forgotten assignment and he was met with Galinda and Elphaba shortly behind her.

“Fiyero! You’ll never guess what happened!” Galinda said in a giddy and excited voice as she sat in front of Fiyero (Elphaba sat next to her).

“What happened?” Fiyero said. A part of him couldn’t care less what she had to say, but he knew that ignoring her would be rude. He met her through you and although she wouldn’t be his first choice for a friend, she actually was a nice girl to be around.

“James purposefully dragged me under the mistletoe, so that he could kiss me! Isn’t that so cute! I was so—“

“Mistletoe?” Fiyero interrupted. Why did that name sound familiar? He thought.

“Yeah the plant.” Elphaba said.

Fiyero’s mind immediately went to the plant that was hanging in his and Y/n’s room. Is that the plant they’re taking about?

“What does it look like?” He asked.

“It’s a green plant that kind of dangles down and it has white berries as well.” Elphaba answered.

“Sometimes the berries are red” Galinda added, but Fiyero wasn’t listening since his brain was on overdrive. It seemed like mistletoe was used for kissing? Y/n hung that up in her room and in my room Fiyero thought. So does that mean— , but Fiyero wasn’t 100% sure.

“What is mistletoe used for?” Fiyero asked.

“Well two people stand under it and then they kiss. The custom originated from the Emerald City, but it then migrated to the Upper Uplands with the help of Persephone Thomas.” Galinda said.

Y/n was from the Emerald city, which would explain why she would carry on the custom in her room and not me Fiyero thought.

“And when someone hangs one up on purpose?” Fiyero asked.

“It’s because they want to be kissed!”

That was all Fiyero needed to hear before he started to grab his belongings and walk out of the library.

“Hey where are you going I thought we were going to study?” Galinda shouted, but Fiyero continued walking.

He had something to take care of first.

—————————

Fiyero didn’t come to your study session today, which was strange. According to Galinda he was the first one there, but then all of a sudden he left abruptly. Which was odd. Where would he be going?

You got a lot done during your study session. Elphaba helped you immensely with your literature essay and Boq had some wonderful insights for your history project. Galinda was also quite helpful with Dr. Dilamond’s assignment.

You had just finished your study session and decided to go to Fiyero’s room to make sure everything was alright with him. Yes he never really cared for his studies, but it’s not like him to just leave like that. Something must be wrong you thought.

You approached Fiyero’s room and knocked. Silence. You knocked again just to be sure. Silence. You put your hand on the door handle and slowly twist the knob. The door slightly cracked open. You roll your eyes at the fact that the door was unlocked. He really needs to start locking his door you thought.

You opened the door fully and checked for anyone inside and it looked like Fiyero and his roommate Charlie both weren’t there. You kind of wished Charlie was here because then he could have given you an idea about where Fiyero could be.

You were about to walk out and admit defeat when you noticed a folded piece of paper on Fiyero’s bed. Curious, you walked over and opened it up and read.

Come to your room princess. I have a surprise for you!

Surprise? What surprise you thought. You wasted no time and walked out of his room with the note in hand. You walked down a couple of hallways before you were in front of your door. With bated breath you opened the door and the sight made you gasp.

It was like you were in a winter wonderland, but with plants. A plant wonderland. All around the ceiling there were green plants hanging like branches and you took a step closer to get a better look at them. And that’s when you recognized the familiar white berries that made this plant stand out.

It was mistletoe.

There was mistletoe everywhere and it brought a smile to your face. Was this the surprise Fiyero was talking about? Speaking of Fiyero where was he?

Suddenly you felt two hands on your shoulders and you quickly turned around to see your boyfriend with a beaming smile on his face.

“Hello princess.” He said the teasing tone.

You turned your body so that you can completely face him.

“Did you do all this?”

He simply shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. Your eyes then trailed down to something behind his back.

“What’s behind your back?” But he ignored you.

“Galinda told me something very interesting today.” Fiyero began.

He was avoiding your questions and he seemed to have something prepared, so you played along.

“Did she?”

“Yes. She brought up how people hang up mistletoe, so that they can kiss someone and usually it’s their significant other. It’s an emerald city custom, a custom that is not practiced in Winkie country.”

This piece of information surprised you. This whole time you thought he knew about what hanging mistletoe meant, but now that appears not to be the case. That would explain why he never kissed you all those times you dragged him under the mistletoe or hinted at the notion.

“Which is why I didn’t understand any of the hints my girlfriend sent my way. Every time she brought me under the mistletoe or showed me the plant, I thought nothing of it. But after Galinda’s words, a few words from other students and some thinking.”

“Oh you actually used that brain of yours.” You joked.

Fiyero laughed at your joke and nodded.

“Yes I used my brain princess and I realized that all this time my girlfriend wanted to be kissed. And as her boyfriend it is my job to make sure that her wish is fulfilled…so…”

Fiyero finally revealed what was behind his back the entire time. It was a branch of mistletoe, but instead of white berries like all of the other plants hanging around the room, the berries were a bright ruby red. He hung the mistletoe above both of you, so that the plant can be used for its purpose.

“Well…” Fiyero prompted.

You waisted no time in wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing his lips down to yours. Fiyero returned the kiss and when his hands wrapped around your waist you realized why you love him so much.

He never ran out of ideas to make you feel loved and you fall in love with him more and more each and every day. And ever since that fateful day, he never failed to meet you under the mistletoe.

[stylesispunk]

"Our little mistletoe" day 2/3

no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

summary: You got sick during the week of Christmas. Unable to leave home, Joel brings Christmas to you, and some feelings are confessed.

wc: 6,3>

warnings: just fluff. (Yes, no angst.)

a/n: welcome to the second day of my joel's fic christmas version event. Perhaps, PERHAPS I will add one more day to this mini event. Thank you so much for the love on the day one of this mini event! So glad you lived that one. ♥️♥️ It's funny that at the same time, I'm writing this, I'm sick, but instead of cozy blankets and cold weather, here it's hot. I need Joel to come and save me. I don't know if you're gonna like this one as much as the fic one, i hope you like it though. Happy reading 💌

By this time of the day, you would have been already on Joel’s house, helping him to get everything ready for tonight’s dinner. Setting some last-minute decorations with Sarah that he always had forgot to put on display inside the house.

You weren’t the biggest fan of Christmas or travelling during these holidays, but you always had put a show for him, especially for Sarah since she was a little kid.

And he loved that. He loved it so much.

The way you belonged to his house, the way your skin seemed to glow under the twinkling lights, the smile you grace when he was opening the gift you had delicately chose for him.

Or the way you smelled like sweet pastries

You, just you.

You were his favorite part of the holidays and of life itself. You were woven into every tradition, every memory that mattered. From the moment you stepped into his life, you'd filled spaces he hadn't even known were empty.

Joel watched as you carefully adjusted a wreath over the fireplace, your fingers lingering to straighten the ribbon just so. Sarah had darted into the kitchen to check on the cookies, leaving the two of you in the soft glow of the Christmas tree.

“Think it looks alright?” you asked, turning to him with a smile that knocked the wind out of his chest.

“Looks perfect,” he murmured, but he wasn’t talking about the wreath.

You laughed, shaking your head as if you could brush off his intensity. “You always say that.”

“’Cause it’s always true,” he replied, voice low and warm.

You turned back to the decorations, but Joel kept his eyes on you, taking in the way you fit into this moment as though you were meant to be here all along.

It wasn’t just Christmas. It was you. It had always been you.

Joel’s thoughts came back to the present moment as worry nagged him. He checked on his phone, the last message he had sent you remained there, not even seen.

Joel’s thumb hovered over the screen, his brow furrowing as he stared at the text.

You on your way yet? Sarah's been asking for you.

The read receipt hadn’t popped up, and that alone was enough to set him on edge.

You were never late, especially not for Christmas dinner.

The sound of laughter floated from the kitchen as Sarah shouted something about burnt cookies, but Joel couldn’t focus. His gut twisted with a sense of unease he couldn’t shake. He stood, pacing toward the window, glancing out at the driveway that remained empty.

He checked the time. It wasn’t like you to keep him waiting.

Pulling his coat off the hook, Joel stepped out onto the porch. The cold air bit at his skin, but it didn’t matter. He needed to do something, anything. The world felt too still, too quiet without you in it.

He dialed your number, pacing back and forth as the phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Then it went to voicemail.

Joel ran a hand down his face, gripping the back of his neck as his heartbeat picked up.

“Where the hell are you?” he muttered under his breath, glancing at his phone again.

Just as he was about to call again, the door behind him creaked open, and Sarah peeked out, a worried look on her face.

“Dad? Everything okay?” she asked.

Joel forced a smile he didn’t feel. “Yeah, sweetheart. Just...waitin’ for her. You know how the roads can get this time of year.”

Joel barely had time to answer Sarah’s question when the sound of tires crunching against cobblestones pulled his attention. He turned toward the driveway to see Tommy’s truck rolling in, headlights cutting through the early winter dusk. Relief warred in his chest.

Tommy stepped out of the truck, shaking off the cold as he made his way to the porch. "Merry Christmas eve, big brother," he called, his usual smirk in place. But it faltered when he got a good look at Joel’s face. "What’s with the long face? Something happened?"

Joel didn’t waste time. “I need you to stay here with Sarah.”

Tommy blinked, confused. “What? Why? Ain’t this the time we’re all supposed to be gathering’ ‘round the tree, singing’ carols or whatever?”

“I think somethin’ might’ve happened,” Joel admitted referring to you, his tone heavy with worry. “She isn’t here yet. Ain’t answerin’ my messages or calls, and that just...ain’t her.”

Tommy’s playful demeanor vanished, replaced by quiet seriousness. “Alright. I’ll stay. Go find her.”

Joel gave him a firm nod, patting his shoulder in thanks before grabbing his keys and heading for his truck. He was halfway down the driveway, his mind already running through the possibilities, car trouble, icy roads, something worse, when his phone buzzed on the seat beside him.

He swerved to a stop, snatching the phone up. It was you.

“Hey,” he answered, his voice sharp with worry. “Where the hell are you? Are you alright?”

There was a long pause on the other end, and then your voice came through, soft and raspy. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I overslept. I think I’m coming down with something.”

Joel exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and concern flooding through him. “Jesus, you scared the hell outta me. You could’ve called sooner.”

“I know,” you murmured, guilt laced in your tone. “I didn’t want to ruin your Christmas eve or worry you. I just...I feel awful.”

Joel’s grip on the phone tightened as he pulled off the road, parking his truck. “Ruin my Christmas eve?” he echoed, his voice softening. “You’re the only part of it I care about.”

There was a pause on your end, and Joel could imagine the way you’d be biting your lip at his words. “I’m sorry, Joel. I really wanted to be there, but I barely can keep myself up.”

“You don’t gotta apologize. You just sit tight, alright?” Joel's voice was firm but gentle, there was a lace of disappointment hanging there, but because of the thought of you spending all this night alone. "I’ll figure it out. Just rest, okay? I’ll check on you later."

You let out a tired sigh, tinged with a hint of guilt. "Okay. Merry Christmas eve, Joel. Tell Sarah I’m sorry."

Joel’s chest tightened at how small your voice sounded, the strength you usually carried replaced by exhaustion. "Merry Christmas eve, darlin’. Just take care of yourself, alright?"

He ended the call, staring at his phone for a moment before slipping it into his pocket. The engine idled quietly as Joel sat there, the glow of his truck’s dashboard lights illuminating his face. You might have been stuck at home, but that didn’t mean you had to spend Christmas Eve alone.

A plan had come up to his mind.

He swung the truck around, heading back toward the house with a sense of purpose. When he pulled into the driveway, Tommy was waiting on the porch, bundled in his coat, a questioning look on his face.

"Everything alright?" Tommy asked as Joel climbed out.

“She’s sick,” Joel said, already heading toward the front door. "Ain’t coming over."

Tommy frowned. "Then why are you back? Givin’ up that easy?"

Joel shot him a pointed look as he stepped inside. "Hell no. We’re taking Christmas to her."

Sarah popped her head out from the kitchen, her face lighting up when she saw her dad. "She’s not coming?"

"Not feelin’ well," Joel explained as he grabbed a couple of boxes of decorations from the living room. "But that don’t mean she’s missin’ out."

Sarah grinned, catching on to his plan. "You mean we’re bringing all this to her place?"

"Damn right we are," Joel said, already sorting through the things he’d need. "Grab the cookies, the rest of the food and some of the lights."

Tommy let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You’re really doin’ this, huh?"

Joel shot him a look that said everything. "All of us, Tommy. Come on”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, his smirk fading as realization dawned. “Wait, me too?

Joel didn’t even pause as he grabbed another box of lights. “You’re comin’. You’re part of this family, ain’t you?”

Tommy smiled, following Joel into the kitchen, where Sarah was already busy wrapping up the food with a determined look on her face. “Fine, but don’t blame me if I eat half those cookies on the way.”

“You do, and you’re walkin’,” Joel shot back, his voice teasing but his pace relentless.

Within minutes, the truck was packed to the brim. Lights, food, decorations, everything that screamed Christmas was crammed into the back. Joel stood by the truck, taking a deep breath, his hands on his hips as he looked over the load.

“Think she’ll like it?” Sarah asked, her smile lighting up her face.

Joel turned to her with a small smile, his tone soft. “She’ll love it, baby girl”

“Alright, let’s go before I change my mind about this,” Tommy muttered, climbing into the passenger seat.

As Tommy settled into the passenger seat, he rummaged through one of the bags he’d grabbed last minute from the house. A sly grin spread across his face as he pulled out a small sprig of mistletoe, holding it up between two fingers.

“Don’t forget about this, big brother,” he said, his tone dripping with mischief as he waved it in Joel’s direction.

Joel glanced over, narrowing his eyes. “What the hell are you doin’ with that?”

Tommy shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Figured you’d want it. Never know when it might come in handy. You will Kiss her tonight, brother”

Joel rolled his eyes, though the heat creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Tommy, don’t start.”

“I’m just sayin’.” Tommy leaned back, twirling the mistletoe like it was some kind of trophy. “You’re doin’ all this for her, haulin’ Christmas across town like some kinda lovesick Santa Claus. Might as well seal the deal.”

“Tommy,” Joel warned, his voice low and pointed. “This ain’t about that.”

“Oh, sure,” Tommy said, his grin widening. “Just about spreadin’ some holiday cheer, huh? Totally normal to pack up half your house for a ‘friend.’” He made air quotes with his fingers, earning a laugh from Sarah in the backseat.

“Uncle Tommy’s got a point, Dad,” Sarah chimed in, her voice light but playful. “I mean, you like her, right? Why not just go for it?”

Joel gripped the wheel a little tighter, his jaw working as he tried to come up with a response that wouldn’t give Tommy and Sarah even more ammunition. “Ain’t the time for that,” he muttered.

Tommy leaned forward, mistletoe still in hand. “Oh, come on, Joel. You’re already playin’ the hero tonight. Don’t tell me you’re gonna chicken out now.”

Joel shot him a glare, but Tommy just laughed. “You’re impossible,” Joel muttered, snatching the mistletoe from his brother’s hand and tossing it onto the dashboard.

“Just keep it handy,” Tommy said with a wink. “You’ll thank me later.”

Joel shook his head, but the teasing didn’t stop the thought from creeping in. The mistletoe sat there, a quiet challenge he wasn’t quite ready to face, as they drove toward your house.

You had just started to drift off, the ache in your head and the warmth of your blankets pulling you under, when a knock at the door jolted you awake. At first, you thought you’d imagined it, but there it was again, a firm, familiar rhythm that made your heart stutter.

Groaning softly, you pushed yourself up, wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders as you shuffled toward the door. The pounding in your head didn’t do much to help the confusion swirling in your mind. Who would be here at this hour?

You opened the door a crack, peeking out cautiously, only to have your breath catch in your throat.

Joel stood there, snow dusting his hair and jacket, his arms holding a box full of things that looked suspiciously festive. Behind him, Sarah and Tommy were standing by the truck, each holding their own share of decorations and food.

“Joel?” you croaked, your voice rough from the scratchiness in your throat.

“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes sweeping over you with concern. “You look like hell.”

“Wow, thanks,” you muttered, pulling the blanket closer around you. “What’re you doing here?”

“Bringin’ Christmas to you,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Joel took the opportunity to step inside, brushing past you gently as he carried a box of decorations toward your living room. Sarah and Tommy followed suit, grinning like conspirators as they set down their own loads of holiday cheer.

“Wait, wait,” you protested, your head spinning as you tried to keep up. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“No,” Joel said, turning to face you, his expression warm but resolute. “But I wanted to. You shouldn’t spend Christmas alone, sick or not.”

Sarah appeared at your side, holding a plate of cookies wrapped in foil. “We made these for you! Well, Dad baked them”

“Did you bake them?” You asked, recieiving the plate from Sarah.

“No, I bought them, really. I made Sarah believe I was baking” he replied, without giving himself credit.

“Such a fake” you said, but you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, though it quickly turned into a cough. Joel was at your side in an instant, his hand on your back, steadying you.

“C’mon,” he said, guiding you gently toward the couch. “Sit down. Let us take care of this.”

“Joel,” you began, your voice hoarse but filled with emotion, “you really didn’t have to—”

“I did,” he cut you off, his tone leaving no room for argument. His eyes softened as he looked at you, and for a moment, the chaos of the room faded into the background. “You’re part of this, part of us. Always have been. So, yeah, I did.”

You blinked at him, your chest tightening with something that wasn’t just the cold. Before you could respond, Tommy called out from the kitchen.

Before you could say anything, Tommy’s voice broke through the moment, his tone dripping with playful mischief.

“Well, look at this,” he drawled, stepping closer with the infamous sprig of mistletoe in his hand. “Y’know, I’ve been thinkin’. She looks at you like you’re her Christmas miracle, Joel. Might as well give her a reason to keep starin’.”

Joel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tommy, don’t—”

But Tommy was already moving. With the precision of a man who lived to be a menace, he slipped the mistletoe into the back pocket of Joel’s jeans, patting it smugly as if he’d completed a masterpiece.

“There,” Tommy declared, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “Now you’re carryin’ it everywhere, just in case the moment strikes. Plus,” he added with a wink in your direction, “I think someone else here might be on board with this idea.”

Your face burned as the attention shifted to you, and you quickly glanced away, pretending to be fascinated by the pattern on the blanket you’d pulled over your lap.

“Tommy,” Joel growled, his voice a low warning.

“What?” Tommy said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. “I’m just tryin’ to help. I mean, come on, big brother. Don’t act like she ain’t got that same look you’ve been sportin’ for years now.”

“Tommy,” Joel repeated, but there was a faint flush creeping up his neck now.

You managed to peek up at Joel, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. Tommy’s teasing words might’ve been delivered with a smirk, but there was truth buried in them.

Joel caught your gaze, and for a split second, everything else seemed to fade.

“Alright, enough,” Joel said finally, dragging a hand down his face as he shot Tommy a glare. “Don’t you have somethin’ better to do?”

“Not really,” Tommy quipped, sauntering off toward the pile of lights he’d been working on.

As the room filled with Sarah’s chatter and the sound of Christmas music Tommy had turned on, Joel lingered by your side, looking equal parts exasperated and amused.

“Don’t pay him any mind,” he murmured, his voice soft enough that only you could hear. “He’s just talkin’ nonsense.”

But when you glanced down at the faint hint of green peeking from his back pocket, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Tommy wasn’t entirely wrong.

As the evening wore on, the laughter and warmth filling your small home was everything you hadn’t realized you needed. The twinkling lights Joel and Sarah had strung up bathed the room in a soft glow, and the scent of cookies and food mingled with the piney aroma of the small tree Tommy had managed to haul inside.

But as much as you loved the idea of them bringing Christmas to you, the pounding in your head refused to let up. You tried to hide it, smiling and laughing as Sarah excitedly talked about different things, but she was too perceptive for her own good.

“Are you okay?” Sarah asked gently, her brows furrowing as she leaned closer to you on the couch.

You waved her off with a weak smile. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Sarah wasn’t convinced. She glanced over at Joel, who was mid-conversation with Tommy about fixing the uneven lights on the tree. “Maybe we should let her rest,” Sarah said softly, her concern evident. “We can go back home. It’s been such a nice night already.”

“No,” you said quickly, sitting up straighter despite the dull ache in your head. “I don’t want you to leave. You’ve already done so much, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you packing everything up after all this effort.”

Joel turned his head at the sound of your voice, his eyes narrowing as he took in your pale complexion. “You sure, darlin’? You look like you could use some quiet.”

“I’m sure,” you insisted, though the words came out weaker than you intended. “You’ve made this place feel like Christmas. Stay. Please.”

Tommy smirked from where he was fiddling with the ornaments. “Guess that settles it. Looks like we’re havin’ a sleepover.”

Sarah’s face lit up. “Really? We can stay?”

You nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “Of course. There’s plenty of room.”

Joel rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze flicking between you and Sarah. “Alright, but only if you promise to tell me if you’re feelin’ worse. I mean it.”

You nodded, touched by the concern in his voice.

“Well,” Joel said, clapping his hands together. “If we’re stayin’, how ‘bout a movie? Somethin’ Christmas-y.”

Sarah practically bounced in her seat. “Home Alone!” she suggested immediately.

Tommy groaned. “Haven’t we seen that one a hundred times?”

“Exactly,” Sarah retorted, grinning.

Joel chuckled and looked at you. “What d’you think?”

You leaned back into the couch, grateful for the blanket Sarah had draped over you earlier. “Home Alone sounds perfect.”

Sarah bounced up from the couch, eager to grab snacks and drinks for everyone. As she passed Joel, she flashed him a mischievous smile. "You can sit by her now, dad," she said, her voice teasing. "She's gonna need someone to keep her warm."

Joel gave her a mock glare, but there was a warmth in his eyes as he stood up and made his way toward the couch. He carefully settled beside you, just close enough that you could feel his presence, but not so close that it felt intrusive. He was getting really nervous about your company tonight in a way his heart seemed to explode at the thought of touching you.

“Comfy?” he asked quietly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs that you were still struggling. His hand rested on the couch cushion next to yours, as if he was just waiting for the right moment to reach for you if you needed him.

You smiled faintly, grateful for his care. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice still a bit rough. “Thanks for staying. This... this means a lot.”

He glanced at you, his gaze softening. “You’re not gonna get rid of me that easily, darlin’.” There was a tenderness in his voice that made your heart flutter despite the headache.

You shifted slightly on the couch, the warmth of his presence comforting, and without thinking, you leaned in closer, resting your head gently on his shoulder. You could feel the muscles in his arm tense slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he shifted just enough to make sure you were comfortable, his warmth enveloping you like a protective blanket.

For a moment, you simply listened to the sounds of the movie and the gentle chatter of Sarah and Tommy, feeling the steady rise and fall of Joel’s breath beneath your ear. The headache was still there, pounding softly in the background, but having Joel so near helped ease the tension in your body, his steady presence grounding you.

Joel’s hand, which had been resting on the cushion beside you, slowly moved. At first, it just hovered near your shoulder, but then, as though asking permission, it settled softly on your arm. His touch was gentle, a silent reassurance that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly, his voice low, barely louder than the sound of the movie.

You nodded slightly, not trusting yourself to speak. His presence, his warmth, it was exactly what you needed, even if you hadn’t realized it before. You allowed yourself to sink further into him, feeling a small sense of peace settle over you.

Joel’s hand tightened just slightly, not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to remind you that he was there.

I’m here, and I’m not leaving.

The steady rhythm of Joel’s breath, the warmth of his body next to yours, and the gentle hum of the movie in the background all worked together to lull you into a calm, peaceful state. Your eyelids grew heavier with each passing second, the exhaustion from the day and the pounding headache making it harder to stay awake.

As you settled deeper into the couch, Joel’s presence became the anchor that kept you grounded, and before you knew it, you drifted off, your breathing slowing into a relaxed, steady pattern. The last thing you were aware of was the comforting weight of his arm around you, pulling you just a little bit closer, as if he too was holding onto this moment, savoring the peace and quiet that you shared together.

Joel didn’t say anything as you fell asleep. He simply let you rest, his hand lightly stroking your arm as he made sure you were comfortable, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. His heart swelled with a tenderness that made him afraid of his feelings.

As you slept peacefully, nestled against Joel, the soft glow of the Christmas lights cast a warm hue across the room. The only sound was the low hum of the movie playing in the background and the occasional shift of movement from the others.

Tommy, who had been lounging on the armchair, glanced over at the two of you with a smirk. He was doing his best to stifle a laugh, but it was clear he couldn’t resist.

“Well, well,” Tommy teased quietly, “You look adorable together.”

Joel’s eyes flicked to Tommy, a mix of annoyance and something else flickering in his gaze. He could get used to spend every day with you like this.  “Shut up, Tommy,” he muttered under his breath, but his tone was far from harsh. He didn’t want to wake you, not when you were so peacefully resting.

Joel shot him a warning look, but the corners of his lips tugged into a smile despite himself. “You’ve got a hell of a way of making things awkward,” he grumbled, but it was clear he wasn’t bothered by the teasing.

Meanwhile, Sarah had curled up on the floor with a blanket, her eyes already fluttering closed. She was tired from the day’s events, her excitement finally catching up to her.

Joel looked down at you again, his hand still lightly resting on your shoulder as if unwilling to move. But then he noticed Sarah, fast asleep on the floor, and a new thought came to him.

“Tommy,” Joel called quietly, nudging his brother once more. “Can you help me get Sarah to the guest room? She’s out cold, and I don’t want her sleepin’ on the floor.”

Tommy, not missing a beat, grinned widely. “I can’t believe you’re getting rid of your daughter to get a girlfriend,” he teased, winking at Joel.

Joel didn’t even respond to that, his attention already on you. “Just help me, damn it,” he muttered, trying to keep the playful teasing to a minimum.

With a sigh, Tommy got up and walked over to Sarah, carefully lifting her and making sure she didn’t stir. Joel remained on the couch, his heart still racing from the tenderness of the moment, silently praying that you wouldn’t wake up just yet.

As Tommy returned to the living room, he gave Joel a quick nod, signaling that Sarah was settled comfortably in the guest room. Joel looked down at you, still asleep on his shoulder, and a deep tenderness washed over him. He wasn’t sure if he could carry you without waking you, but seeing you so peaceful in his arms made him want to do everything he could to keep you safe and comfortable.

He carefully lifted you, one arm gently supporting your back and the other under your knees. His movements were slow and deliberate, trying his best not to disturb you. Your soft, steady breathing was a comfort to him as he began walking toward your bedroom.

Tommy, noticing the situation, gave Joel a teasing grin. “You sure you don’t need help, Joel?”

Joel shot him a look, his usual gruffness softened by the moment. “Just keep it down, alright? Don’t wanna wake her.”

Tommy’s grin only widened, but he stayed quiet, giving Joel the space he needed.

As Joel made his way into your bedroom, he gently lowered you onto the bed, making sure your head was resting comfortably on the pillow. He tucked the blanket around you, his fingers brushing against your skin for a brief moment. It wasn’t much, but the way you looked so peaceful made something inside him stir, and for a second, he just stood there, watching you.

His gaze lingered on your face, tracing the soft curve of your features, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Get some rest, darlin'," he whispered, as if the words could protect you from whatever might come next. "I’m right here."

Joel returned to the living room, his footsteps quiet but deliberate. Tommy, who had been half-leaning on the couch with his feet up, looked up at him with a smirk. Joel wiped a hand across his face, trying to shake off the quiet weight of the night.

“I’ll take the sofa,” Joel said, his voice low. “You can take the other bed in the guest room. It’s all set up.”

Tommy gave him an exaggerated shrug, as if to say he didn’t care where he slept. “Alright, alright. Guess it’s good to be the one on the couch for once.” He stood up and stretched, heading toward the guest room Joel had pointed out. “Night, man.”

“Night, Tommy,” Joel muttered, already turning back toward the bedroom.

Once everything settled down, the house was quiet again, save for the soft sounds of the holiday decorations swaying and the occasional crackle from the fireplace. Joel moved softly, making his way back down the hall to your room, checking the time briefly as he walked. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt the need to be near you, even if you were sleeping.

When he pushed open the door to your room, expecting to see you still sleeping peacefully, his heart stuttered in his chest. There you were, awake, your eyes wide, watching him from the bed. The soft light of the bedside lamp illuminated your face, casting a warm glow over your features.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, just taking in the presence of the other.

"Hey," Joel said quietly, leaning against the doorframe, his voice hoarse, like he was still trying to process the night.

You offered him a tired smile, but there was something else there too, an understanding, something deeper that only the two of you seemed to share “How did I get here?” you asked.

Joel stepped closer, his eyes softening. “I carried you to bed.” he confessed, his voice gentle. His gaze dropped to the bed, the warmth of your presence drawing him in. “You feeling better?”

You nodded slightly, even though you knew you weren’t completely alright. But there was something about having Joel near you that made you feel just a little more at ease.

“I’m alright now," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "But you should get some rest too. You’ve done more than enough."

Joel stood there for a beat, as if considering what to say next. Then, he smiled softly, a trace of that quiet tenderness in his eyes. “I’ll rest when I know you’re okay.”

With that, he pulled up a chair near the bed, sitting down so that he could keep an eye on you. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stay there, but he didn’t mind. He just needed to know you were alright.

You shifted slightly in the bed, glancing over at Joel, who was still sitting in the chair, watching you with that soft, protective look in his eyes. A small, tired smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you studied him for a moment.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, the weight of the night lingering in the air between you. "You don't have to sit there all night."

Joel chuckled quietly, though it held a hint of disbelief. "I'm just making sure you're okay," he said, his voice low but reassuring. He leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees, never taking his eyes off you. "I told you, I’ll rest when you’re alright."

You could see the exhaustion etched on his face, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the long night, but there was still that protective energy about him. You couldn’t help but feel grateful, though you also felt a small ache in your chest seeing him so worn out.

“You can sleep with me, Joel," you said, the words slipping out before you had a chance to stop them. You quickly added, "I mean, if you want to. You don’t have to keep sitting there."

Joel’s expression softened as he took in your offer. He hesitated for a moment, the vulnerability in the air palpable between you two. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he finally nodded.

"Yeah," he said quietly, his voice a little rough with emotion. "I think I’d like that."

He stood up slowly, as if testing the idea, then moved to your side. You shifted to make room for him, pulling the blanket back slightly. As he lay down beside you, his warmth seemed to fill the room, and you could feel the tension in your chest loosen just a little.

Joel settled in beside you, not too close but close enough that you could feel his presence. His hand brushed yours, and you both let out a quiet, simultaneous sigh of relief. He shifted onto his side, facing you, his eyes scanning your face as if to make sure you were still okay.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The room was still, only the quiet sound of your breathing filling the space. Finally, Joel’s voice broke the silence, low and soft.

"You sure you're alright?" he asked, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand.

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion as you glanced over at him. "I’m better now," you whispered. "With you here." You paused for a moment “What you did tonight…I can’t find the words to thank you.”

Joel smiled, a small but sincere curve of his lips, as he adjusted slightly, bringing you closer to him. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured softly, his voice warm and reassuring. “You’re important to me.”

His words, though comforting, didn’t stop the weight of your emotions from building up inside you. The closeness, the warmth of his presence, and everything that had happened tonight made your heart swell with something deeper than gratitude.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head slightly, your eyes meeting his with a vulnerability you hadn’t shown before. “I love you, Joel,” you said, the words coming out softly but with a sincerity that made your chest ache.

Joel’s expression softened even more, his thumb still brushing lightly over your hand. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice deep and full of emotion.

You frowned, a little pout forming on your lips as you shifted slightly. “No, you don’t understand,” you murmured, feeling the weight of the moment grow even more. “I love you. I’m in love with you.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, almost too heavy to breathe through. Joel’s gaze softened, searching your eyes as if trying to understand what you meant. And when he did, his expression shifted, becoming more tender, more real. Before you could pull away, you buried your face in the crook of his neck, hiding from the intensity of the confession, but also seeking the comfort of his warmth.

Joel’s hand gently cradled the back of your head, his thumb still brushing through your hair as he held you close. The room was filled with a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, and then, in the softest of tones, he spoke.

“Can you repeat it?” His voice was a little rough, full of longing, but there was a hint of vulnerability there too.

You shook your head, keeping your face hidden in the crook of his neck, trying to gather the courage to meet his gaze again. The weight of your own confession was still hanging in the air, making you feel exposed and raw. You mumbled against his skin, “I can’t. It’s too much.”

Joel chuckled softly, the sound warm and comforting. He shifted slightly, pulling you back just enough to tilt your chin gently upward, so you had no choice but to look into his eyes. The tenderness there was undeniable. “That’s bad,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “’cause I’m in love with you too.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you could only stare at him, eyes wide with surprise. The feeling of his words settled over you, warming you from the inside out, making your heart race.

“I—” You started, but the words stuck in your throat. The vulnerability between the two of you was overwhelming, and yet, it felt like everything had finally clicked into place. There were no more doubts. No more fear.

Joel smiled softly, the warmth of his eyes never leaving yours as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “We’re here now.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between you, a promise, a shared truth. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of his presence sink into your bones, the steady rhythm of his breathing grounding you. It felt like everything you’d hoped for was finally coming into focus.

Joel gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing the softness of your skin as he looked at you, his eyes full of tenderness and something deeper. His gaze was steady, searching for any sign of doubt, but all he found was you—vulnerable, open, and more than ready for what was happening between you two.

“You’re not alone,” he murmured, his voice low but full of meaning. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, with you.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, your heart swelling with emotions too big for words. “I know,” you whispered, a smile finally tugging at the corners of your lips. “I know now.”

Joel’s smile deepened, and in that moment, it was like the world outside of your little bubble didn’t matter. All that existed was the two of you, tangled up in something more real and beautiful than you could have imagined.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with the softest of touches, as if asking for permission. And when you responded, meeting him halfway, the kiss deepened, both of you tasting the sweet vulnerability of this new chapter.

You pulled away slowly, your forehead resting against his, your breaths mingling. “You’re gonna get sick now”

Joel chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take my chances,” he murmured, his hands finding their way back to your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m not letting go now.”

You laughed quietly, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “You’re stubborn,” you said, but there was no annoyance in your voice—just affection.

“And you love me for it,” he replied with a playful grin, his thumb tracing small circles on your back.

You smirked, rolling your eyes slightly, though your heart was full. “I do,” you admitted, your voice soft, the words carrying more weight than you’d ever thought they would. “I really do.”

Joel smiled, his expression softening as he leaned in once more, brushing his lips against yours, but you placed your hand up to stop him for a moment, hanging the little mistletoe over your heads.

Joel raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a grin as you held the mistletoe above your heads. "Where do you get that from?" he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You smirked, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and mischief. "I stole it from you," you replied, your voice teasing, yet sincere.

Joel chuckled, the sound warm and full of affection. "I should’ve known," he said, shaking his head with a playful sigh. "You’re sneaky."

You shrugged, the mistletoe still hovering between you. "I had to make sure it was the right moment."

He chuckled again, and this time, his hands found your waist once more, pulling you close as he leaned in, his eyes softening. "Well, since you put it like that..."

With a grin, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss deepening as you both shared in the quiet joy of the moment.

Joel pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, his expression soft and full of warmth. "You know," he said, his voice low and sincere, "you’re the best gift I could ever ask for."

You felt your heart swell, and a soft smile tugged at your lips. His words, simple yet heartfelt, made everything feel right. Before you could respond, Joel’s grin returned, playful yet tender.

"And," he continued with a teasing glint in his eyes, "I hope you’ll take care of me when I inevitably get sick from all this kissing."

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile forming on your lips. "Oh, don’t worry," you replied, your tone light but affectionate, "I’m more than happy to take care of you."

Joel chuckled, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. "Good," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

The warmth between you both felt like the perfect ending to a night full of new beginnings, and as he kissed you again.

And again.

And he thought he would never get tired of it.

[devildomwriter]

There Is Just One Thing I Need | Barbatos x Reader

1K+ Words | GN! Reader | CW: Suggestive

Barbatos’s two-pronged tail moved side to side as he hurriedly ran about the kitchen. His demon form was out and ready as he prepared for the Christmas formal Diavolo decided to host.

He had expected—as any good butler would—that Diavolo would end up spontaneously throwing a party or ball so he’d prereadied many of the foods in the freezer but this wasn’t enough to prevent a big rush. Even with all the assistants in the kitchen and the Little Ds running about handing him his prep tools, his stress still grew.

You happened to be on your way to the castle when you got what sounded like a calm text from Barbatos asking for Carnal Pumpkins so you paid out of pocket at the nearby store knowing you’d be compensated kindly. But when you arrived in the kitchen, it was anything but calm, things were so busy it was Diavolo who’d greeted you at the door rather than his prestigious butler.

You looked around a bit worriedly seeing Barbatos blip from place to place, too fast for you the fathom. He hadn’t heard you enter as the sounds of oven timers, clanging pots, bubbling water, and popping oil were too loud to hear much else.

You stood there for a moment, waiting for Barbatos to get a break but it didn’t happen so you pushed past the staff to make your way over to his prep table, the only place he stayed more than a few moments.

Barbatos heard the chatter of chefs behind him wondering what they could be distracted by during such a time. Before he could silence them he turned around to see you right behind him. His face betrayed his surprise at seeing you smile at him holding a box with several carnal pumpkins.

“Goodness, ___. I’m terribly sorry I didn’t come to greet you,” he quickly took the box, “and for making you carry such a heavy load.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine. I needed the muscle anyway,” you grinned, and for the first time since he started cooking, he gave a warm smile.

You looked around at the efficient chefs and wondered what could have Barbatos so worried.

“Barb, can you take a break for a minute?”

“Is it important?” He asked, covered and you nodded.

“Afraid so.”

He nodded firmly and quickly followed you out to the hall. You weren’t sure if lying to get Barbatos to take a breather was going to upset him or not as he seemed quite busy but it was a risk you were willing to take.

You decided to involve Diavolo in your farce as this always got his immediate attention. His Young Master was his number one priority after all.

“I brought you these,” you said and took a paper bag of Christmas sugar cookies out of your satchel.

Barbatos looked touched and made a small bow as he thanked you. “Why thank you, ___. But surely this can’t be all, can it?”

You shook your head and placed your hands on his shoulders. He gave you a curious look with a small head tilt that you inwardly gushed about.

“Diavolo and I are worried about you,” you declared and he looked shocked for a moment but hid it with a knowing smile.

“Oh my. Is this about how busy I am in the kitchen?” He correctly guessed. “If that’s all perhaps you can tell the Young Master to give more than two days’ notice for grand parties. Especially ones with very specific themes like Human-World Christmas and vague menus concepts like human world holiday food, of which none but Turkey exist in the Devildom.”

You made a small “yikes” look and it gave him a small chuckle.

He sighed and shook his head, “I’m afraid I’ve no time to relax right now ____. The formal is in a few hours and I need everything to be ready.”

“Won’t it be cold?”

He shook his head, “nonsense. Not with my ability to freeze it in its freshest state.”

That was another perk of his abilities you hadn’t even considered. Food would always be fresh, you could save it forever.

“While I understand you only mean to help my stress, I’m afraid I haven’t time right now, ___.” Barbatos softly scolded. You winced knowing he’d seen through your lie right away. What point was there in trying to hide anything from him?

He paused in his thoughts, “however. If you have any energy left after the formal then I am happy to spend as much free time with you as you’d like.”

“This isn’t really about spending time with me, I’m not selfish like that. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Barbatos nodded, “I understand that. I’m giving you my response. Should you make time for me after all of this, then I certainly will be okay. Your company is the only thing I need.”

You blushed realizing your mistake and nodded quickly.

He grinned in triumph, “Good. Then I shall see you tonight.

You thought back to the afternoon when you’d agreed to Barbatos’s request. Not once did you think the ever-so-proper butler would unlace your outfit the moment you were alone in his room. Not once did you think you’d find yourself naked in his bed, his soft breaths against your neck as he slept with his arms wrapped firmly around you and his tail happily swishing back and forth.

Looking around his room now maybe you shouldn’t have been so surprised at his sudden bold move. His room was full of the love you’d shown him that he’d happily received. On his desk was the paper bag of cookies you’d given him next to a few gifts with sheep-themed wrapping paper. On the bars of his canopy bed were paper snowflakes you’d crafted with Luke for him. Thrown on the floor to make room for you both was a throw pillow you’d gotten him on his birthday and the candles that he’d lit for you were a gift from you when there’d been a big sale. Framed on his dresser was a picture he’d taken with you last Christmas when he’d helped you decorate your tree.

You smiled at the thought of having another wonderful Christmas with Barbatos. The way the season was already going with you in his bed, you imagined it’d be the best Christmas yet.