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eilidh-eternal · 4 months

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You go to dinner

Merry Christmas if that’s your thing! @luminousbeings-crudematter My gift to you and all the rest of the SingleDad!Johnny lovers today is fluff and a lil’ something extra I was originally gonna wait to include, but it just felt right in this chapter. Happy Holidays and Enjoy 🥰🎄🎁

SingleDad!Johnny x f!reader | 18+ MDNI | Part 1 | Masterlist

Today is Friday and you’re having dinner with Johnny.

Johnny and Isobel, you remind yourself. Not a date. Even if the man next door seems hellbent on seeing you squirm in his presence, stunned into silence while fire creeps in licking tendrils up your spine and sucks the breath out of you.

It’s not a date. But you still pull that one pretty dress out of your closet anyway, the one you told yourself you’re saving for a special occasion. Still don a few simple pieces of jewelry and go to the extent of styling your hair, swipe mascara onto your lashes and put something other than lip balm on for once. A few strategic spritzes of perfume at the base of your throat and wrists and you decide that anything more is too much. Trying too hard.

Trying too hard to impress someone who’s got it all. Someone who once had it all. Beautiful wife, adorable daughter. Did they live somewhere with a white picket fence? Did Isobel spend her days as a toddler going to parks and tromping through rain puddles, mum and dad at her side? Did Johnny smile at her the way he smiles at Isobel–like she hung the stars in the sky just for him? Could he ever smile at you like that? Could he ever love you–love anyone–the way he loved her again?

It’s hard not to compare yourself to the woman who’s had it all. The woman who had him. Hard not to feel doubt slithering in amongst the hope, to be reminded of everything you aren't even when he gives you no reason to. No, those feelings, that reservation, lies somewhere between yourself and the photo of the woman on his living room wall. Is there room in his heart for another woman when she’s still there to remind him of what he had? You’ll never find out if you don’t find your shoes and coat and get going.

It snowed again last night, and the pavement is dusted in a fine layer of glittering ice that swirls and scatters in the wind, trailing in lazy eddies behind you like the tail of a comet as you make the short walk next door, stepping carefully up onto their front stoop. Light from inside makes the windows glow a warm hue, and the sound of a children's show filters through along with Isobels excited voice when she hears your knock at the door.

“I’ll get it!” Isobel is darting towards the door before Johnny can dissuade her or scoop her up into his arms and task her with keeping an eye on the oven while he gets the door. He hates how tall she’s getting. Wishes her mother was here to see her stretching up on her tip-toes to peer out the window. “She’s here, she’s here!” The front door swings open, nearly taking out a vase on the entry table with it, short little arms just long enough to reach the doorknob and throw it open haphazardly. “Hi miss neighbor!”

“Hello Isobel. May I come in?” Johnny nearly drops the serving dish in his hands when he hears your voice, has to remind himself to breathe when Isobel clears the way for you and he catches a glimpse of you from the kitchen. This is just dinner, he reminds himself. Dinner with the gorgeous fucking neighbor that bakes and dotes on Isobel like she’s your daughter.

And Christ that dress… He’s glad he wore more than jeans and a t-shirt, found a dress shirt shoved in the back of his closet that isn't part of his parade dress or uniform. Isobel insisted that they ‘dress up’ for dinner, and Johnny was happy to go along with it if it meant she would take a bath and let him help with detangling her hair after. But standing here now, seeing you… he’s doing everything in his power to keep his hammering pulse in check and keep all his blood from rushing south. What a fucking sight that would be.

“Hi, Johnny.” Yeah, that’s certainly not helping. You look fucking adorable looking up at him like that, hands clasped together in front of you, toying with a delicate ring, tentative smile pulling your features into a face he wants to burn into his memory, tattoo on the back of his eyelids so he never forgets it. Soft and sweet and fucking perfect. His hands twitch at his sides, body reacting to your presence with the need to touch, to have his hand pressed to your back, curled around your waist, wrapped around your shoulder. He shoves them in his pockets instead and braces his shoulder against the wall beside him, crossing one ankle over the other and swallows down the desire to pull you into him.

“Look at ye, Bonnie. Give us a whirl, eh?” Isobel, at some point while he was too busy making moon eyes at you to notice, had taken up her usual spot beside him, arm wrapped around his leg to lean into him.

“Twirl! Twirl!” She bounces on her feet, jostling Johnny, and he feels like he could do the same. Might just join her if it would convince you. It seems he doesn’t have to though, and he watches with rapt attention as you give them a little spin, hands held out to your sides, and when you face them again you look a little less reserved, timid smile blooming into something easy and comfortable as Isobel surges forward. “Ye’re like the girls on the telly!”

Your eyes flick from Isobel’s gaze of wonderment to Johnny, and when he catches the question behind the subtle uptick of a brow, the way your eyes widen a fraction, he explains. “Wean’s been watchin’ those princess movies all week. The one with the, um… what’s ‘er friends name, Bell?”

Isobel scoffs, offended that he doesn’t remember the name of the comical sidekick. “It’s Mushu, and he’s not her friend. He’s her spirit guide. Like the wisps,” she corrects, little hands on her hips and scowling up at him. Johnny puts his hands up in front of him in surrender.

“I’ll get it right one of these days, leannan. How about ye go pause yer movie and we’ll get cleaned up for dinner?” She gives him an enthusiastic nod, all offense forgotten, and trots off to the living room to do just that. With Isobel momentarily occupied his attention returns to you, lingering on all the places your dress clings to your body, to the delicious figure he’s sure you’re hiding beneath it. “She’s right.” Your head tilts to the side, that same brow inching upwards in confusion.

“About what?”

“About ye lookin’ like royalty.” He revels in the way you stall in front of him, body seemingly frozen as your mind works to process his words, and then your eyes are looking anywhere but his face, fingers twisting your ring between them and searching for a response.

“It’s just a dress, nothing special,” you try to dismiss, and he openly appraises you now. Lets his eyes rake down your form before they meet yours again.

“‘S a dress I’d get on muh knees for, bonnie. If royalty isnae the right word for that, then maybe I should-” He doesn’t get to finish, interrupted by Isobel darting out of the living room and tugging on his arm, pulling him backwards towards the kitchen.

“Come on, bubby. Ye said we’d wash up,” she whines and continues pulling on his arm, throwing all of her weight into her efforts to move him.

“Aye, that I did,” he finally relents and lets her pull him back a step. “Go on and have a seat.” He gestures to the table, dinner and place settings all laid out already. “We’ll be right behind ye.”

In the washroom Johnny helps Isobel clamber up onto her step stool to wash her hands. “She’s pretty,” she remarks as she takes the soap from him.

“Aye, she is,” he agrees, helping her to lather her hands.

“D’ye think she’ll bake for us?”

“I dunno leannan. Ye’ll have to ask ‘er after dinner.”

She does, and she’s ecstatic when you agree with a little encouragement from Johnny. He doesn’t know much about baking but he knows you need flour and sugar and eggs and all that, and he’d made sure they have all those things from the shops when they’d gone yesterday to prepare for dinner. Wasn’t at all joking several days earlier when he said he couldn’t stop thinking about you and Isobel bopping about the kitchen together, though he can think of several things other than your spoon that he’d like to lick right now. Watching you bend over to retrieve the pan from the oven has him shifting in his seat and readjusting himself while you and Isobel have your backs turned.

“Bubby, look!” Isobel is nearly jumping with joy as you set the pan down on top of the stove. “We made cookies!” The smile you give her, the adoration pouring off of you in waves, is something he wishes he could bottle and keep all to himself. Something he never dreamed he could have. Someone who loves Isobel just as much as he does. He thinks if Isobel can win you over, make you fall in love with her, then maybe he stands a chance. Maybe you can love him too.

He just wishes she could be here to see it. That was all she’d ever wanted for him—to see him in love, settle down and start a family. Now a piece of her will always be a part of whatever family he chooses to make.

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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joelscurls · 4 months

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a heart for melting

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: post-outbreak, implied age gap, themes surrounding child loss and grief, some angst but mostly festive fluff, grumpy x sunshine dynamics (Joel is a grinch & reader loves the holidays), reader is described as having long-ish hair

summary: Jackson's first annual Holiday Market brings about more than just cheer.

a/n: Merry Christmas @thetriumphantpanda; I'm your pedrostories secret santa! I hope you enjoy this lil festive take on grumpy!joel x sunshine!reader — I had lots of fun writing it 🤍🎄 🥧 🪵 🦌

Joel doesn’t want to be here — surrounded by garland and ribbons and so much unadulterated joy, it’s nauseating. No, he was forced to be here.

Please, Ellie had begged, it’ll be good for you to do something other than patrol or drinking with Tommy. Plus, they’re too good to keep to yourself.

They, being wood carvings — the tiny sculptures of deer and bears and birds, tufts of hair and bunches of feathers drawn out of driftwood with the tip of his blade. It was only ever meant to be a hobby, a way to busy his hands after they’d been wrapped around the cold metal of his rifle all day. Something lighter, creative rather than destructive, an act of giving rather than taking.

But sharing them with other people? He hadn’t been interested. Maybe he’d make one for Ellie or Tommy. Wrap it up in a piece of cloth and offer it as a gift for their birthday.

Not that he thought they were any good, really.

With the announcement of Jackson’s first annual Holiday Market, though, came Ellie’s pleading. “I’ll help you,” she’d bargained. “You don’t even have to give me anything!”

“Who said I would anyway?” he’d grumbled, digging his spoon into the bottom of his bowl of stew and sifting out a chunk of meat.

Joel despises the Holiday Season. He’d welcomed its disappearance with the end of the world. Because he had no reason to celebrate, with Sarah gone. Her absence stung like salt in an open wound on any normal day. But on Christmas, memories of her hanging her favorite ornaments on the tree and sneaking one of the cookies baked for Santa burned behind his eyelids. Left him heaving through hot tears.

The holidays had no place in his world, but they certainly had a place in Jackson. The first time he and Ellie had strode through those gates, they’d been met with that damned Christmas Tree, towering over the settlement like a beacon. And he hated it, hated the way it brought about that pounding in his chest and that spinning in his head.

How could anyone find any good in such a poignant reminder of loss?

Tommy says it’s about new beginnings, finding ways to be happy again. And what’s happier ‘n Christmas? God damn Santa Clause, hot chocolate, children singin’ carols?

Still, Joel isn’t convinced — not yet.

Standing across the mess hall, at your table piled high with baked goods, you are far too cheerful. You’re humming some song with a jovial beat, absentmindedly swaying as you rearrange rows of gingerbread and muffins and scones — all of which are draped in white icing, like flocking on Christmas trees. You pause to wish a happy holiday to everyone who passes through.

Joel knows he’s seen you before, flitting in and out of the community’s kitchen, always with that signature smile scrawled across your face.

And god, you’re so bubbly, taking to everyone you meet like a bee to honey, letting them in without a care in the world. Popping from table to table, making sure they have enough to eat. That they’re doing well.

It shouldn’t surprise him that you’re so…spirited, too. You seem to find the good in everyone and everything, after all.

It infuriates him, nonetheless.

Joel groans to himself. Stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans as an elderly couple rounds on him.

He grumbles a hello to them when they approach. They offer him half-smiles in return, beginning to pick up some of the carvings laid out on the table — turning them, inspecting them.

“This one’s nice,” the man says to his wife. She hums in agreement.

“You got any tigers?” the man asks.

“Tigers?”

“Yeah — I used to love ‘em as a kid.”

“Got what’s on the table,” Joel grumbles.

“You make ‘em custom? I can offer some homemade jam in return — elderberry.”

Joel sighs in annoyance.

“Don’t make ‘em custom. Got what I got.”

The man seems defeated, nodding and walking off without another word. The woman follows closely behind.

Just as they leave, Ellie appears. She sidles up to Joel and shrugs her jacket off. Pulls a chair up next to him.

“There’s so much cool shit here!” she exclaims, too loud. A judgemental set of eyes flit her direction. She glares right back at them.

“Do you mind?” Joel huffs, jaw ticking.

“Jesus, who pissed in your Cheerios?”

“How do you even know what Cheerios are?”

“Don’t,” she admits. “I read it in a book.”

“Of course you did.”

Ellie leans back in her chair, pulling an apple out of her backpack and biting into it. She shuffles some of the carvings around on the table. “Gotta fill in these gaps, man,” she says, juice dribbling down her chin.

Joel ignores her. He sneaks a glance at you; finds that you’re already looking. Your expression is unreadable, gaze unmoving as he studies you.

Despite your upbeat disposition bothering him, he can’t deny that you’re gorgeous: bright, beckoning eyes, siren-like smile — it’s like you’re peering into his soul.

He didn’t think he still had one of those.

“Dude.” Ellie nudges him. He peels his eyes from you reluctantly. “I asked how many takers you’ve had.”

“Uh.” He pretends to think.

“You have no fucking idea, do you? Too busy staring at that girl.”

“Wasn’t starin’,” he clips defensively.

“No? Well she’s coming over here, man.”

Sure enough, you’re striding right toward him, abandoning your post. Joel barely has time to prepare for impact.

He unconsciously straightens up and pulls his hands out of his pockets. He brushes them on his jeans just as you stop in front of his table.

“Hi there,” you say.

“Hi!” Ellie chimes.

You pick up a carving of a two-headed deer. His favorite.

“This is beautiful,” you coo. “The craftsmanship is lovely.” You’re running a finger along the grooves in the wood, holding the piece delicately in the palm of your hand — as if it’s made of glass, not wood. “You have a real gift…”

“Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeat. He ignores how sweet his name sounds coming out of your mouth. You tell him your name, and it fits you, he thinks. It’s pretty.

“How long have you been making them?”

“Just since I got to Jackson. ‘ts somethin’ to pass the time.”

You nod. Continue scanning over the intricacies of the deer. “I was never much of a baker before I got here, either,” you joke, gesturing back toward your table.

“Good one,” Ellie laughs. “You’re funny — isn’t she funny, Joel?”

In his head, he’s glowering at her. Outwardly, he feigns amusement.

“Real funny.”

“I’d love to see how you make these sometime,” you say, then, placing the deer back on the table gingerly. “Do you have a workshop?”

“In our shed,” Ellie pipes in before he can say anything. “You should come by tomorrow! Joel’s off patrol.”

He shoots her daggers. She pretends not to notice.

“I’d love that! I have to work in the kitchen, though. I could come by after?”

Joel starts to shake his head no. Ellie’s hand wraps around his arm like a vice grip. He stills.

“Sure,” he grits.

“I can bring some pastries, if you’d like.”

“Don’t like sweets.”

“Oh,” you say, a little thwarted, but you’re undeterred. You shift on your feet. Chew your bottom lip. “Well, how about something not sweet, then?”

Your brows lift, narrowed eyes on him as you await a response. Joel still isn’t thrilled about the prospect of a visitor. Really, he doesn’t like anyone on his property that isn’t Ellie, or Tommy and Maria if he’s invited them. But you don’t seem so bad, offering to bring him food.

He can probably deal with your sunny disposition in exchange for a full belly. Lord knows he went too long without that luxury, and he’d be a fool to deny himself of it ever again.

So, he agrees, the garbled sure less than enthusiastic leaving his mouth. Still, you don’t seem too offended. In fact, you smirk at him, wordlessly sauntering back to your table, sneaking glances at him every so often for the remainder of the afternoon.

Sure enough, the next evening, while Joel is whittling in the shed, you show up.

You’re wielding a basket of savory hand pies, as promised, and Joel has to stop himself from drooling. They smell incredible. And they’re still warm, somehow, steam wafting off of them even after your walk here.

“Come in,” he gruffs, his nose following the scent like a dog’s as he trails behind you inside.

His set up is minimal: a rocking chair next to a bench, a couple stools he made for when Tommy comes by to play poker. But his works are scattered throughout, every surface in the small room cluttered with little carvings.

He settles atop one of the stools as you begin to wander around the room, plucking sculptures off shelves and awing at them with such genuine admiration, it causes something to pull in his chest.

Every so often, you make a remark about the details in a piece, how the fur on the deer looks real, how you can practically smell the replica evergreen in your grasp.

And something shifts — carried by your kind words through the stuffy shed.

Taken by the slight lilt in your voice when you speak to him, the almost-shy smile that pulls at the corners of your lips — Joel is attracted to you.

He’s following the line of your neck down to your collarbone, ogling at the exposed skin there when you pick another carving up off the shelf. And he feels guilty — he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. You’re just being nice, being neighborly, and he’s gawking at you like you’d have any interest in him.

No; you’re young, beautiful, could do a lot better than an old grump like him.

He averts his gaze quickly when you suddenly set down the tiny, carved bird that had been in your palm, round the workbench and perch yourself atop the stool next to his. You retrieve a handpie out of the basket and pass it over to him.

“It has braised rabbit and carmelized onions in it,” you explain, taking a bite and letting the steam roll out.

He follows suit and — it tastes just as good as it smells, if not better. He’s salivating again, letting the dough melt in his mouth before swallowing.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, getting through the entire basket in mere minutes.

When you’re finished, you ask him where he’s from.

The question shouldn’t feel like such a shock to the system. But after a year of being in Jackson, successfully avoiding conversation about his life before the outbreak, it sets off a panging between his eyes, a dull ache in his viscera.

“Texas,” he tells you plainly. “From Austin, originally.”

You nod. And you must be able to tell that he’s not used to talking about himself — by the tick of his jaw or the lack of eye contact — he’s not sure. Because you don’t pry. Instead, you say, “you can ask me something.”

He nods. Thinks on it for a moment.

“When did you arrive here? To Jackson?”

Unlike him, you do not grimace at the intrusion. Instead, you tell him: about your parents, their untimely deaths, the harrowing road that led you here. You do not cry, but Joel can see the pain in your shiny eyes.

It’s inevitable; there isn’t a single person here who hasn’t been dealt a bad hand. But you wear your past like a badge of honor, like you’re still grateful, after it all, to be alive.

Joel envies your tenacity.

So when you ask him about Ellie, if she is his daughter, he lets the walls around him down — just an inch. He doesn’t get upset when he stumbles over his words while telling you about Sarah. He finds comfort in confiding in you, in the way you so attentively listen, quietly nodding along as he recalls his version of the end of the world.

“Thank you,” you say when he’s done, burying his hands back in his pockets.

“For what?”

“For sharing that with me. I know it can be difficult to relive it.”

“I relive it everyday,” he admits. “Everything reminds me of her in one way or another.”

“I understand,” you nod. He believes you do.

So sweet, gaze like honey, you are an enigma to him. He hasn’t met many people who are kind just for the sake of it — not in a long while. Maybe that’s why he’d been so bothered by it at the market. It had felt almost unnatural to him, bound to be laced with an ulterior motive.

He’s still learning how to trust people again. It doesn’t come easily after twenty-odd years of rationing it like the pills he’d stowed. Still, there is something innate about baring his soul to you. Letting you in through the cracks in his battered being. You are safe, he’s sure of it; benevolence radiating from you like warmth.

It drips off your tongue when you ask him to show you how he does his craft — slips down your fluttering lashes. No longer can he deny you of anything — he’s accepted this swiftly — and so he obliges.

A half-whittled fox materializes from his coat pocket, along with his blade. He passes both to you and pulls his stool closer to yours.

He guides you, taking your hand in his, encouraging the press of the blade into the wood. Shows you how to round out a corner with a subtle twist of the knife. You’re a fast learner, Joel notes, attentive, taking every instruction like gospel.

The slow drag of steel, your fingers wrapped tightly around the handle; you’re so focused that you jump slightly when he places a reassuring hand on your knee.

“Doin’ great, darlin’,” he says, and your lips pull around pearlescent teeth. Joel feels as enraptured by you as you do the carving — the loose tendrils of hair that drape over your shoulder, the clinging of cotton to your soft curves. Though he hardened into stone a long time ago, he feels smelted in your presence. So he cannot help it when his fingers begin to drift up your leg, settling at your side as he turns his body toward yours.

The blade stalls, tip still stuck into the wood, puncturing the fox’s non-existent spine, and your face lifts.

“Is this okay?” he whispers. You nod, gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

You’re so close like this; Joel can smell the floral perfume dappled along your neck, can feel your warm breath fanning his face. He has half a mind to stop himself from sealing the sliver of distance left between you. But then you’re sighing, placing the blade and the wooden fox on the tabletop. And it’s your turn to guide him — winding your delicate fingers around his wrist and settling his hand at the small of your back.

The air in the tiny workshop grows heavy with unspoken desire, a longing to disrupt; to create. Your body forms to his languidly, arms interlocking behind his neck, fingers weaving in his hair to pull him closer to you. And then your lips press to his — hesitant at first, then not. You drink from each other until you are drunk, breathless and giddy when you separate.

“That was nice,” you whisper, and Joel chuckles.

“Just nice?”

“Great,” you amend. “It was great. Better than I imagined, even.”

“You imagined this?”

“Yes,” you smirk. “On a loop since I first saw you at the market.”

He pulls you back in. Gives you another chaste kiss. “For good measure.”

“Joel,” you say then, “will you and Ellie come by mine on Christmas? I could even cook — it’s just-”

“Yes,” he’s accepting before you can finish. “I’d love that. As long as you make more of those,” he gestures toward the empty basket on the workbench.

“That can be arranged,” you grin.

As soon as you leave that evening — sent off with a goodbye muttered between slotted mouths — Joel starts on your Christmas present.

end notes: thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you enjoyed <3

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller oneshot #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal as joel miller #pedro pascal #pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories

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plasma-packin-mama · 4 months

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a cure for them old world blues 💗🎄

(Featuring @thebigolbee ‘s Marlow!)

I talk about fallout down there (mostly nonsense thought dump) ⬇️

Thinking Abt the existence of modern traditions 200 years into the post apocalypse is very interesting to me... I think that the Enclave, bastion of conservatism and WASPism that it was, probably held Christmas traditions pretty intact throughout its lifespan. Good Ol American Values yadda yadda conflating American identity with whiteness and Christianity and the picket fence happy nuclear family veneer. So Arcade had at least a few Traditional Christmases as a kid. Which I think would probably be pretty unique in the wasteland. 200 years is a long ass time for tradition and culture to morph when it isn't being held still a chokehold by an insular community. Idk how strongly cultural Christianity would still be smothering the general zeitgeist around 2281, but I definitely think the traditions of winter holidays would have changed and morphed a lot from what they are today. Idk I'm not an anthropologist.

Anyway, The other big source of info about old world traditions would be old world ghouls like Richie!! I won't talk about his lore because he's not my character obviously, but he was alive before the bombs dropped so he'd know firsthand how Christmas was celebrated back then. I think Delilah would want to set up a Real Christmas celebration for him, "just like in the old days!!" To make him smile :) Arcade could help them get the details right. Someone's making eggnog out of mantis eggs or something. Hey are there chickens in fallout??? Do I remember there being some in 4? Are they just regular ass chickens?

Ok stop talking peep MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS OR IF YOU DONT CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS HAPPY MONDAY LOLOL I HOPE YOU'RE OFF FROM WORK AT LEAST.

#i havent been talking about fallout much bc i habent had any art to share so every time i get on here #i just word vomit all my thoughts #lolol #fallout #fallout new vegas #arcade gannon #peepie art #delilah #marlow (thebigolbee)#also dude ive been waiting to draw lilah in daisy dukes for so long #who would've thought the christmas drawing would be the one

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gfox-arts · 4 months

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MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! 🎄🎉✨

Yeah, it's a little late, I only had time to finish this drawing today! Hehe! But anyway, I wanted to wish y'all a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to come! I wish y'all the best!! ✨✨✨

#fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #fnaf ruin #fnaf help wanted 2 #glamrock freddy #glamrock chica #roxanne wolf #montgomery gator #glamrock bonnie #fnaf gregory #fnaf cassie #fnaf fanart #MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL GUYS #AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!!#my art

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 4 months

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Happy holidays! I hope you had a wonderful time during this time of year ♥️ if you are not busy, could you to either a 2003 or bayverse tmnt x reader (crush stage, not together / hasn’t confessed yet) with a reader who really put in all their cards into giving the best gift ever? Maybe something they always wanted, something they didn’t even knew it would be possible due to living in the sewers (e.g: giving a huge bonsai to Leo with a hand painted vase of him and his brothers training, or donnie a huge solar system that follows the current planet positions and the planets light up during night time, as a cute and fascinating lamp for his lab/room) anyways, a reader who’s love language is gift giving, and that’s they way of showing how much they appreciate them ? Please and thank you ♥️

Christmas Crush Stories: Gifts for Him

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: I have decided to go with the Bayverse boys, as I feel like I’ve been doing a lot of 03 for these past few days. I’ve also changed up the gift ideas, as I had some other ones I thought would be neat💖

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Warnings: Spelling, Christmas crush stuff, turtle boys getting presents and being happy💚🎄🐢

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Leonardo:

What do you get a guy that doesn’t have any wishes for Christmas? A guy who specifically told you not to get him anything for Christmas, because his noble nature just wouldn’t allow that. A guy who also happens to be the one you had had a crush on for years. Well, it wasn’t easy to figure out.

Leonardo had always been a guarded person. He didn’t easily let people in, citing possible betrayal and a general need for comfort. He did not like new things, as new things often got in the way of routine. And to Leo, routine meant comfort. So when you first entered Leo and his brothers’ lives, he took him quite some time to let you in. He watched you from afar, judging whether or not you were a threat. And slowly, over a long period of time, Leo let his guard down, letting you get to know him on a deeper, personal level. You got to know his routines, and the small things that brought him comfort. Meditation brought him clarity, training helped him get out frustrations, the bonsai made him patient, and his tea, his beloved tea, made him relax. All of this together brought him joy and comfort.

So what is a good gift for a guy that had a strict daily schedule, and doesn’t like sudden new things in his home space? Well, Leo had told you that your presence was enough, but that just didn’t sit well with you. You had to give him something that showed him that you cared. Especially after all these past years where Leo had made you promise not to give him anything, and to focus on his brothers’ gifts instead. You didn’t like that one bit. So therefore, this year you had found a gift for Leo, and you were sure he would like it. It was nothing big, as you had come to the realization that Leo did not need any big grand presents. What he needed was something that aligned with his daily routine. Something that let Leo know that you really did care, and you really did understand him.

So that day, as everyone was opening the presents, you quickly made your way over to Leo in the corner, who was watching his family, April, Casey and Vern, as they opened their presents in the living area. But when he noticed you coming over, he frowned in confusion. Especially when he noticed the unopened gift in your hands.

“Is that yours”, he asked. “Why haven’t you opened it yet?”

“Because it’s not mine”, you smiled, handing the gift over to the now very confused terrapin. “Merry Christmas, Leo”.

“(Y/N)”, he said sternly, looking from the gift to you. “I told you not to get me anything”.

“I know”, you said, almost forcing the gift into his hands with a smile. “But I just had to do it. Please, it means a lot to me”.

Leo looked at you for a moment, his blue eyes almost piercing into your soul. You prayed that he didn’t see the way his gaze caused you to shiver. His gaze moved back down to the gift in his hands. You could almost see the thoughts as they moved around in his head, as he tried to think of what he should make of the situation. And then, finally, he started to unpack the gift. It didn’t surprise you to see how neatly he unpacked it, unknotting the ribbon before following the lines of the wrapping paper, peeling back the tape. Once the gift was unwrapped, he started at the brown box in his hands, unsure of what to make of the artwork of Japanese women making tea on the front.

“What is this?”, he asked, slightly confused, looking for the opening in the brown box so he could take a look inside.

“It is a traditional Japanese matcha tea set”, you said, just as he opened the box. “With a whisk, a holder for the whisk, traditional scoop, matcha tea and bowl. All in blue of course”.

Leo stayed quiet as he stared at the matcha set in his hands. Then, without a word, he closed the box and placed it on the ground. You grew slightly nervous at this, not sure what to make of his silence. But then he turned to you, before wrapping his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Thank you, (Y/N)”, he said, a smile appearing on his face, his arms staying around you, even as he moved his head to look at your face. “I love it! Really, I do. I had never thought of getting that”.

“No problem, Leo”, you said, feeling the butterflies erupt in your stomach and your face getting red. “I’m just happy that you like it”.

Raphael:

Raphael, the big and hot tempered member of the ninja turtles, and your ever growing crush. Ever since you met him and his brothers a little under a year ago, you couldn’t ignore your growing affection for the big red clad brute. His big build, strong physic and brown yellow eyes had you in awe from the very start. Although he was a little on the offensive during his first meeting with you, it didn’t take long before he warmed up to you, soon becoming a close friend of yours. It was no longer uncommon for him to check up on you every once in a while. Sudden late night texts, telling you he would do a quick stop by your apartment before continuing with his patrol. Or early morning texts asking if you wanted to come hang out with him in the lair. Okay, maybe the two of you were becoming more like best friends…

But there was one problem you hadn’t foreseen when you started getting closer with Raph: What do you get him for Christmas? Well, according to his brothers the best thing to get him was something for his workout. New weights. That new protein powder they had caught him looking at on his phone once. Or a new boxing bag, because his old one was living on its last days. But there was one thing wrong with that - Raph already had that, or his brothers were doing to get that for him. Leo had gotten him a new boxing bag, and Mikey had gotten him a new bench press, however that was possible. Donnie had made him a watch that could read the speed of his punches and his weight lifting. April had gotten the protein powder, and Casey had gotten him weights. Heck, even Vern had gotten him weights. Whatever Splinter had gotten him was still a mystery to you, but that didn’t change the fact that you had to find him a gift. A gift that showed him how much you cared and appreciated him, and hopefully how strong your feelings were for him.

You sat down and had a long think, remembering everything you knew about Raphael. Everything he had told you, and all the things you had done together. Even the things he hadn’t told you, and you just kind of had guessed along the way. And then suddenly, you had an idea. You knew what to get Raphael. It was different from any of the gifts his friends and family had gotten him, and you were sure it was going to stand out. And then, excitedly, you ran out the door, hurrying out to buy his gift.

Christmas in the lair came in a rush, and before you knew it you sat on the couch with Raphael, watching as he opened his second last gift, with yours being the last, waiting patiently in your lap.

“Yo! That’s so cool!”, Raph said as he opened Donnie’s gift. He took the oversized watch out of the box before wrapping it around his arm, reading the numbers on it as he punched the air. “That’s wild!”

“I thought you would like it”, Donnie smiled, not taking his eyes from whatever gift he was fiddling with.

You bite your lip nervously. Your gift wasn’t anything high tech, nor did it have anything to do with the many other things Raph had gotten that day. Nothing to do with weights or working out. For a moment you were wondering if your gift actually was such a good idea.

“Did ya have something for me, (Y/N)?”, Raph asked, bringing you out of your worries and back to reality. A half smile on his lip as he played with the watch on his wrist, yet his eyes were on you.

“Y- yes”, you stammered, before nervously handing the gift over to him. “Though it might be different from what the others have gotten you”.

“That’s okay”, Raph smiled as he opened the wrappings on his gift. “As long as it’s from ya, I’ll be happy”. A blush spread across your face at Raph’s words. Damn him and his words for having such an affect on you.

Once Raph had wrapped open the gift, he turned the book in his hand, slight confusion on his face as he read the title; “Knitting and Stitches from Around the World”. He was quiet for a moment, making you slightly anxious. You were just about to ask him if something was wrong, he threw his head back in laughter, before wrapping an arm around you to pull you into a hug.

“That’s amazing, (Y/N)”, he said, before opening the book onto the first page. “How did you know?”

“Well”, you started, smiling brightly as you felt the anxiety disappear away. “I’ve been to your room, and I have seen your knitting stuff. You’re not really that good at hiding it if that’s what you’ve been trying to do”.

“I haven’t thought of that”, Raph said, with his one arm still wrapped around you. “But thanks, (Y/N). I love it”.

Donatello:

You had been thinking for days - no! Weeks. What the hell do you get a mutant turtle genius for Christmas? This man could make himself anything. Did he need something, no bother. He’ll just make something in his lab and the problem was gone. Easy peasy. Well, could he make an invention that made it easy to tell someone about their big crush on them? You hadn’t gotten around to asking him that, nor did it seem like he had any plans for making that in the near future.

Donatello, the tall dork of tech genius, had captured your heart for longer than you dared to admit. You weren’t sure when it exactly started, but one thing you were sure of; you had developed the biggest crush on the purple clad terrapin, and with Christmas coming up, you had every intention of giving him something meaningful.

It had not been an easy idea to come up with. Like said before; when Donnie needed something, he would just make it or get it done. That was just what he did, and normally there wouldn’t be a problem with that. But when you sat in the back of his lab for hours, watching him work while doing small talk, you couldn’t help but get a little frustrated.

You knew you weren’t the only person in the turtle household, who had had problems with finding a fitting Christmas gift for Donnie. You knew his brothers had started to go for options that Donnie had not asked for, but that they felt like he needed. A new extra soft comforter, new pillows, caffeine free coffee and a white noise machine. All stuff to help him sleep. But you knew Donnie better than that, having become one of his best friends over a very short time. You knew that his strange sleeping schedule was bothering no one but his brothers, and they had the idea that it was bothering him too. But it wasn’t. Donnie enjoyed spending time alone in his lab at night, with no interruptions from his brothers. And it was during one of these late nights in his lab, that you noticed him grimacing towards his now cold coffee, before asking with a sigh if you wanted to go with him to the kitchen, so you could keep him company. You finally knew what to give him.

You sat in his lab, and watched as the clock passed midnight. It was finally Christmas. Donnie noticed it too, a small smile appearing on his face.

“How time flies”, he mumbled, sitting up in his chair so he could stretch his arms. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N)”.

“Merry Christmas, Donnie”, you smiled, fiddling a little with your hands. “Uhm… Don?”

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“You know, since it’s officially Christmas now, how would you feel about getting your gift a little early on the day?”

“That sounds like a great idea”, Donnie answered, bringing his cup of coffee to his lips, only to grimace at it. “But can we do it after I’ve made a new cup? It’s cold again”.

“Actually”, you said, stopping him before he could get up. “I think my gift can help you with that”.

“Oh?” Donnie watched as you turned to your backpack, and pulled out a present for him. He chuckled at the purple wrapping, before bringing it to his lap so it could be opened. Once it was unwrapped, he sat staring at a box with a picture of a black cup with light up writing.

“I know I shouldn’t encourage you to continue your self destructive sleep schedule, or your lack of one”, you said, as it didn’t seem like he was catching on, on his own. “But I know coffee tends to get cold when you bring it with you into the lab, so I thought a self heating cup would be nice”.

Donnie sat up straight in his chair and stared at you. “(Y/N)! You’re a genius!”, he yelled, before standing to hug you. “How didn’t I think of this myself?!”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing”, you said, feeling a blush spread over your cheeks.

“Time to test this bad boy!”, Donnie said as he opened the box, before running into the kitchen. The sudden sounds of celebration afterwards, told you that the cups was in fact working like intended.

Michelangelo:

“Merry early Christmas, (Y/N)!”, Mikey said as he tumbled through your living room window, wearing a red Christmas hat, a fake Santa beard, and carrying a small sack over his shoulder.

“What on earth are you doing, Mikey?”, you asked in a laugh, watching as he closed the window behind him, shivering slightly at the cold New York winter air.

Michelangelo, that cute weirdo. He was one of the sweetest and most innocent guys you’ve ever met. With big blue eyes and a fun loving personality, he had you from day one. There was nothing you could do when he first introduced himself and his brothers to you. The moment he spoke you fell for him, and developed the biggest fattest crush you had ever had for anyone. There was nothing you could do, especially not when he quickly became your best friend.

You and Mikey would hang out, all night and all day. He would often drop by your apartment unannounced, or text and call you in order to beg you to come to the lair and hang out. It was almost daily at this point. You couldn’t remember a day in the past few months where you and Mikey hadn’t been either watching movies, playing video games or eating pizza together. You clearly remembered the time a few weeks ago, during a round of video games at your apartment, where Mikey discreetly tried to ask you what you wanted for Christmas, hoping you wouldn’t notice. But of course you did notice, trying your hardest not to laugh at his adorable expression as he listened to your answer. But that question made you wonder; what would Mikey want for Christmas? Would he like a new drum set? No, the one he had was still perfectly fine. A new skateboard? The one he already had could fly. There was no beating that. A new bluetooth speaker? No good either. He just used his brothers’...

That was when Mikey won the game and started jumping around your living room, all with a bright smile on his face, celebrating with loud yells and fist pumps into the air. You laughed at the scene in front of you, feeling your stomach tingle with butterflies at Mikey’s happiness. These were the kind of moments you wish you could keep and hang up on your wall… That’s it! You knew what to get Mikey for Christmas!

“Christmas isn’t until tomorrow, you know”, you laughed, pulling down at his fake white beard, just to tease.

“Nothing wrong with being a little ahead of time”, Mikey said, poking his tongue out at you. “Besides, I thought I would come over with your gift a little early”. Mikey took the small sack down from his shoulder, opening it to reveal one single present. “You know, because my gift to you is so good that it will make my brothers jealous or sad. I would rather not undermine all their hard work”, he finished with a small wink.

You couldn’t help but laugh. Why did he have to be so adorable? “Okay, but then it would only be fair if I also got you your gift”, you said, turning to leave for your room. “I hope it’s okay that it isn’t wrapped. I thought I still had plenty of time to get that done”.

“That’s fine by me”, Mikey said, fishing your gift out of the sack, before taking a seat on the couch. “I tend to get very impatient with wrapping paper”.

“I had a feeling”, you chuckled, as you found Mikey’s gift inside of your closet. “Close your eyes and hold your hands out, Mikester!”

“If you say so, Angelcakes”, Mikey said, before pulling his red Christmas hat down over his eyes, and holding his hands out in front of him. You chuckled at the sight, and placed the brand new polaroid camera into his hands. Mikey felt the object in confusion, before pushing his hat back from his eyes. “What’s that?”, Mikey asked, turning the camera in his hands.

“A polaroid camera”, you said. “I thought that was the best kind of gift for you, so you can capture fun memories, you know, with either me or your brothers”.

Mikey looked from you to the camera in his hands, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “You mean, like this?” Mikey sprung from the couch, bringing the Christmas hate over your head, before pulling you in for a hug and a quick selfie. “Say cheese!”

You laughed, bringing your arms around Mikey’s neck, smiling at the camera with a big smile. “Cheese!”

Mikey watched as the picture came out of the machine in his hand. “I love it, (Y/N)! Now, open your gift so I have something to hang by my bed!”

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bigdumbbambieyes · 4 months

Text

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays from my family to yours!! 🤍🎄

It’s Billy’s first Harrington Christmas with Steve’s family, and honestly? He doesn’t know what to think.

Because his own broken ‘family’ had consisted of him and his father for years, and Neil would get him one shitty gift every December 25th and then they'd going out to eat at some greasy diner together in the name of ‘Christmas’.

And once Max and Susan had entered the picture, things had changed a bit. Susan cooked them all a meal on the 25th. There were more presents. There was a fully decorated tree in the living room. Stockings.

And with that first Hargrove-Mayfield Christmas, Billy hadn’t realized just how much mothers made Christmas.

He could remember the last Christmas he had with his mother. Vaguely. He can vividly remember the warmth of it, the glittering gold of nostalgia sparkling in her eyes in front of the tree. She had gifted him a bike that year and he’d ridden it until he outgrew it.

Then, he had pawned it for money towards his car. He’d given a lot of his belongings towards his Camaro.

But — shitty Christmases aside, this is new. Mrs. Harrington is all about Christmas, decorating her house from top to bottom with wreaths and holly and mistletoe. She’d even put one just outside Steve’s room and gave them a playful smile once they’d realized.

Now, it’s Christmas Eve and six o’clock has just rolled around, so Mrs. H hands out a set of matching pyjamas to her husband, son, and Billy. Even Coco, the white crusty family dog, has a little outfit on that she seems happy to wear — like she’s used to it.

"You know the drill, put them on and come back down for pictures!" Mrs. H tells the three of them, her smile wide.

Billy kinda wants to die.

But, he holds the red, black, and green checkered plaid pyjamas in his free hand while the other clutches at his third glass of spiked eggnog — just in time for Steve to take it from him to set down, giving him a look with wide eyes and lifted brows that says 'just go with it'.

And Billy scrunches his face like 'do I have to?'

But, he follows his boyfriend upstairs, anyway, to change into the pyjamas like Mrs. H has requested.

And, to be fair, they're soft as hell and maybe the most comfortable thing Billy has ever put on his body. When he turns to look at Steve, he sees his boyfriend wearing the exact same thing and it makes them both snort with laughter.

"Every year?" Billy asks as Steve comes over, wrapping his arms around him.

"Every," Steve kisses his cheek, "Single," another kiss to the other side, "Year." A kiss to his mouth, gentle and soft.

It's gaudy but it's cute. Maybe.

Quietly, Steve whispers into the small space between their mouths, "Thank you, for putting up with all of this," he means the Harrington Christmas traditions, "I know it's...a lot, but...it's means a lot to me that you go along with it."

Billy stares into those dark eyes for a moment, flicking back and forth between them before he half-shrugs with a smile and mutters, "It's more than I've ever had."

Steve's face drops a little, like he's hurt for Billy, and he knows it's true — Billy's never had matching pyjamas with his family, he's never had homemade eggnog with Mr. Harrington's finest rum, he's never decorated a gingerbread house, he's never had a Christmas with so much love.

"If you tell my mom that," Steve whispers with a small smile, tilting his head, "She'll never let you spend another Christmas anywhere else."

And, honestly? That doesn’t sound too bad.

❄️

Once they’re back downstairs, Mrs. H has her fancy camera set up in front of the tree and is getting everyone in place on the floor, scooping up Coco into her arms as she exclaims, “Say ‘Merry Christmas!’”

A low chorus of ‘Merry Christmas’ is said and Billy manages a smile as the camera flashes. When Mrs. H goes to set up another shot, he feels Steve’s hand find his, warm and reassuring as Billy turns his head to look at him and catches the smile his boyfriend has just for him.

He returns the soft smile, feeling his tense shoulders relax a little more, easing into the moment as Steve’s mother rushes back to her spot beside her husband.

As Billy focuses on the camera again, he feels Steve’s hand slide across his back and to his side, gently digging his fingertips into it — just enough for it to tickle and make him grin as his hand shoots to Steve’s, gripping it as his boyfriend laughs and the camera goes off, catching them both with wide grins.

Immediately, Billy shoots a glare at his pretty boy, whose grin hasn’t faltered at all. It’s maybe even grown a bit.

“You little shit,” Billy mumbles, glowering somewhat playfully.

“Hope that one makes it to the Christmas card,” Steve hums with a smirk.

Billy rolls his eyes and stands as everyone else does, happily taking up Mr. H’s offer of another cup of spiked eggnog.

❄️

The picture doesn’t make the Harrington Christmas card, as it was already decided (although Mrs. H does want him in the one next year), but Billy does receive a copy of the picture once it’s printed.

He folds it and keeps it hidden in his bedside table, already looking forward to next December.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #y’all didn’t think i wouldn’t write christmas fluff did you??#bambiwrites

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klausysworld · 5 months

Note

hiiiii love your work anyways love IMAGINE edging Klaus to the brink for his Christmas gift and he has a Santa hat on OMFG

I friken love you

if think makes you uncomfortable DO NOT DO IT

xoxo,anon <333

Happy 1st of December and the beginning of a very merry christmas!! 🎅 🎄 🎁

Merry Christmas Indeed

Y/n had been planning this December since the moment Klaus told her that he hated Christmas. She couldn't understand it at all, how could he hate Christmas? Of course she could understand why people of other religions didn't celebrate or people who had never had Christmas growing up but the rest of the Mikaelsons were happy to be festive and involved with the holiday and for whatever reason, Klaus wouldn't budge on the subject. Even when his six year old daughter, Hope, had begged him to wear a Santa hat every year and decorate the tree with her, he had no joy around the magical day at all. Of course he always participated for Hope but the desire and passion was never there and nobody ever asked why or pushed him on it. Except Y/n.

As soon as Rebekah had told her of her brothers broody behaviour around the topic, she couldn't help but go to Niklaus and question it.

"Why don't you enjoy it?" she asked confused, tilting her head as he rolled his eyes

"It's just another day, nothing special about it" he grumbled and she frowned.

"It's a day where everyone comes together and is happy and-"

"Surely, if they loved each other enough then they could arrange to do something around the year instead of this pathetic holiday" he huffed before unclenching his jaw and looking back to Y/n, seeing her apprehensive stance and frown. "It doesn't matter, love. I just stay out the way, I won't dampen your fun I promise." he kissed her cheek softly and sighed. "Besides, it's months away, loads of time to plan my absence." he teased and she hummed but her mind wasn't with him anymore.

She was planning, yes but not for his absence. For his enjoyment and appreciation.

Originally she thought Christmas jumpers and treats but then she remembered that Klaus hated positivity at the best of times and dressing him up probably wasn't a strong start. But she decided that a Santa hat was a must, if not for her own wishes then for Hopes's who was also helping Y/n.

Hope was going to get her Dad to help her decorate Christmas cookies and all tree of them would decorate the tree. Hope and Y/n went shopping together throughout the year to find special, meaningful presents for him and made a mess when wrapping them. They bought unlimited decorations to cover both the inside and outside of the compound and Y/n had borderline begged Marcel and his vampires to put them up in the middle of the night on December first. Well, all except the tree in the living room which was where all the presents would go on Christmas morning, the girls wanted to do that one with Klaus, Elijah, Rebekah, Freya and Kol.

But anyways, once Y/n was sure that the vampires were decorating everything else, she went to bed. She snuggled up to Klaus and kissed him goodnight. What he didn't know was that she had an alarm on her watch which would wake up for 5am.

She then snuck out of their bed and pulled out a box from under it. Inside was a Christmas tree scented candle which she lighted and placed on the shelf below their television before grabbing the Christmas/fairy lights from the box and turning them on, pulling them across the headboard so it was lit up. She then returned to her box and grabbed a thinner box inside it, she pulled the top off to reveal a two piece Christmas outfit.

It was sexy little red top with thin straps and white fluff along the top to hide a small amount of her cleavage with a matching skirt. She slipped out of Klaus's shirt and her panties and pulled on the Santa outfit. She glanced into Niklaus's full length mirror, making sure it was on properly. The skirt barely covered the tops of her thighs but she knew it would work in her favour. With a deep breath she nodded to herself and grabbed the last item from the box, a Santa hat.

She pulled the covers off of Klaus's body resulting in a small groan as the warmth was taken from him as he slept. Quietly she climbed on top of him, her knees either side of his hips. She carefully leaned down and pulled the Santa hat onto his head, squishing his curls as she gently lifted the back of his neck so she could put it on him properly.

Following the action she pressed her lips to his forehead "please, please don't be grumpy" she whispered to his unconscious state. She had thought this through and figured that if she woke him with a very personal present then he would be in a better mood for the rest of the day and hopefully more up for Christmas.

So she continued with her kisses, first across his face lightly before getting to his jaw. Her lips pushed against his skin a little harder, slowly working down his neck and her teeth occasionally grazing the flesh to make his mind stir. His breathing remained deep as she sucked little marks that quickly healed into the base of his neck and down his bare chest. His skin was hot to touch and the urge to press her face against him and stay there was high but she moved on. She let her tongue slide over his abdomen, her lips kissing his stomach all over making his body twitch and a small hum to leave his chest.

Thankfully Klaus only ever slept in his boxers anyway so she didn't have to fully undress him. Instead she just slipped the underwear off him and let it fall to the floor. She then gently began to caress his thighs, his body easily let her push them apart so she could settle between them. With a quick glance up to check he was still asleep, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his cock.

A mumble left him at the sensation and he let out a long breath as her hands brushed up his thighs to his balls. She fondled them gently to help harden his dick which was already halfway there. Her tongue danced up the side of his cock leisurely, following one of the veins. Warmth surrounded his tip when her mouth wrapped around it. She sucked it softly and let one of her hands stroke his shaft slowly. Once he was fully hard in her hold, she lifted her hand to her mouth and coated the palm in her saliva before bringing it back to his awaiting cock.

Y/n sat up on her knees and stroked him firmly, her eyes flicked up to his face, her head tilted slightly to the side as she watched his lips part to let out a soft groan. His brows pulled together and his fingers lightly gripped the sheets below them. Her pace picked up and she jerked him quickly, smiling when his chest rose and fell much more rapidly and his back threatened to arch. Her thumb rolled over his tip, rubbing at his slit to make a gravelly moan escape him.

Her movements slowed again, calming his body down and making him sigh heavily. Silently she brought his head back to her mouth and licked over the top of it. A deep moan left him making her smile widen as she sucked on the tip again. She toyed with it for a minute while her hand kept a steady pace. A little squeeze was awarded for every sound he made and she gradually stroked him faster and faster. It was amusing how easy he was to play with whilst asleep, usually he tried to seem unbothered and kept his grunts to a minimum but here he couldn't control himself.

And once her head began bobbing up and down his length, he was a mess. Y/n had always loved getting him off while he slept, she was rarely awake before him and so didn't get to often but the few times it had happened in the past were thoroughly enjoyable for both parties.

So she knew what she was doing when she took him to the back of her throat and gagged around him slightly. The way his hips bucked was enough proof to confirm this. A breathy version of her name left his lips making her look up but his eyes were still closed. A hum vibrated from her mouth through to his cock making him choke on a breath and his hands to grab the sheets tightly.

She pulled her mouth back to focus on just the tip of his dick again, swirling her tongue around it as her one hand squeezed his balls gently and the other kept up with the rest of his cock. His breathing grew more laboured and a long, low moan left him as well as his slit releasing some pre cum into mouth making her hum again and make his hips jump up to feel her hot throat suck him in.

With a gasp for air she pulled off him. Coughing as quietly as she could. A small whine left his lips when her hands left him alone and his breathing began to slow again. Y/n let her fingers brush against his hips, drawing little patterns into his skin as she waited for his tip to stop leaking. His body stirred gently but he didn't quite wake making her smile and nibble her lip apprehensively.

After another minute she took him back into her hand and went back to stroking him quickly making him jolt and grunt at the sudden intensity. She leaned back down and used her spit to keep him lubricated and easy to jerk off.

She continued this rotation of stroking, licking, suckling and squeezing until she could feel him ready to spill into her mouth, at which pointy she pulled away again and left him moaning in disappointment.

With a hum and a knowing smile, she crawled up his body and covered herself over his cock. "Nik" she whispered, brushing her lips over his ear. A small sound emitted from him and she gently kissed his lips.

Klaus began to wake and his senses seemed hit him all at once. The strong scent of pine filled his nose shortly followed by the familiar aroma of his lover like every other morning except this time he could smell her arousal much more. The though made him groan softly and begin to open his eyes. As soon as he did, his cock was gripped tightly with heat and his mouth fell open. "Ohhh" he moaned, his eyes fluttering but he forced them open. He looked up forward and saw his girl on top of him, dressed in same red and white that usually made him huff in annoyance but all he could do was moan in appreciation at the sight. The little skirt wouldn’t let him see underneath it but he knew that he was stuffed inside her pretty cunt. He was also becoming increasingly aware of the hyper sensitivity of his cock. With a heavy breath, he pushed himself up onto his elbows to see the little wet marks all down his body in the shape of her mouth. "Oh fuck" he gasped when she moved along him.

His arms gave back out and his head hit the pillow and he furrowed his brows at the feel of something else on his head. His shaky hand lifted to touch it but she pulled his hands away and took them in hers making his eyes lift to find her gaze.

She bounced slowly on top of him, her ample breasts moving up and down in her not-so-supportive top. Little sounds left her lips as she caressed his hands softly.

"Christ sweetheart-" he whispered, his mind struggling to keep up with his body. His cock was ready to cum right there and then but Klaus wouldn't let himself come undone so fast, poor guy didn't realise he'd already been denied the chance to twice already. So when she began moving faster and faster again, he couldn't help the struggled moan nor the way his hands squeezed hers to a painful measure.

"Nik" she breathed and he grunted. "You feel so good" she told him quietly, knowing it would pull a sound from him and make his hips buck against his will. "Nik, I love you" she whispered, squeezing his hand back and feeling his dick twitch and his body tense. Immediately her body came to a halt and the overwhelming sensation began to die down. He let out a noise of confusion and pushed himself up into her but she pressed her knees to his sides to tell him no.

"Love" he murmured, his hand moving to her face. She hummed and stroked his hand down to his wrist.

"Merry Christmas" she whispered a nervous smile on her face making him let out a laugh and squeezed her hands

"Merry indeed" he smiled and she sighed in relief.

"Good because I promised Hope that you'd decorate the tree...and cookies" she grinned and groaned

"No- ohh" he cut himself off when she slid up and down again, returning to a deliberate pace. "That's not fair" he whispered though there was no anger or upset in his tone at all. His hands held hers tightly again as she quickened her movements and he pulled her closer

"You have to" she mumbled with a small moan, her teeth biting her tongue to keep herself from becoming a mess.

"But-"

"I won't, mm, I won't let you cum" she whispered and he let out a little laugh

"Love- you know you won't be able to go without" he grinned but when her bouncing stopped again he let out a huff.

"I will today, if you don't at least decorate the tree and try to enjoy yourself then no sex all month" she threatened and he narrowed his eyes

"You wouldn't" he dared and she raised a brow.

"I'm not the thousand year old sex addict" she teased and he rolled his eyes before beginning to roll his hips to hers.

"Nik no" she demanded and he frowned

"You're serious?" he whispered, a frown growing on his face.

"Please?" she asked, stroking his hands again "I'll look after you" she offered, grinding against him as if to make her point which she did when he let out a guttural moan.

"You will?" he mumbled, his eyes fluttering again as she squeezed his cock tightly.

"Mhm, I'll be your personal elf" she giggled and he laughed with a smile

"Christmas isn't my kind of holiday" he reminded

"No holiday is your kind of holiday" she teased "But they're for everyone, you just have to try...you might like it if you don't immediately put a negative spin on the occasion" she pouts.

"You make it sound like I'm mean" he grumbles though his words came out breathy and broken

"You are mean- like the grinch" she laughed, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “But even the grinch ended up liking Christmas” she smiled and he hummed, pulling her face to his and kissing her lips lovingly.

“I can’t guarantee anything” he told her and she nodded “but I can try” he agreed and she smiled softly

"That's all I need to hear" she whispered and he sighed quietly and slid his hands to her hips, squeezing her gently

"Great…Fuck me now darling?" he asked, a growing grin spreading across his face when she rolled her eyes and went back to bouncing above him, feeling him leaking a little bit inside her again.

"You should hear yourself when you're all sleepy" she teased as she pressed her hands to his chest and continued to ride him passionately. He groans and lifts his hips to meet her ass,

"I can't help it" he mumbled, his eyes beginning to close against his will as his body began to fuck up into her with desperation to soothe the ache of his cock. Klaus didn't like to be teased but he had made the mistake of telling her that she could do anything she wanted to him whilst he was asleep and if he were honest, he'd never been happier for it. In fact he felt as though he were on cloud-nine when she moaned on top of him, when her soft tight cunt squeezed him perfectly. But when he ready to finally fill her, he felt that pleasure ripped away from him once more. He let out a yell of frustration and groaned loudly, ignoring her giggle.

"Shh, everyone’s still asleep" She whispers, stroking his chest and neck as she pulls off his cock completely and climbed off of him. He whispered a breathy "no" as her warmth left him. Slowly he pushed himself up, looking to his poor dick which was soaked and solid. He then lifted his hand and pulled the Santa hat off, looking at it unamused before turning to where she stood. A gulp sounded as he looked up to see her in only the skirt, the top laid at her feet. His eyes focused on her perky breasts and his body burned for her,

"We have half an hour before Elijah's alarm and an hour before Hope wakes up and wants to start baking" she tells him "Now either sit back, get ready and we'll get you in the proper festive spirit or I'm going back sleep. Your choice." she offered with her hands on her hips.

Silently he pulled the Christmas hat back on and leaned back against the headboard. "Merry Christmas indeed" he muttered to himself as he watched her near him once again, this time with the intention of giving him one of the best orgasms he’ll ever have.

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anti-katsuki-lounge · 4 months

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Merry Christmas/Christmas Eve everyone, and a Happy Holidays to those of you who don’t celebrate Christmas 🎅🎄🙌. Christmas is all about giving, so I thought I’d do something special for you guys as a token of my gratitude for all of you 🙌.

Today, we’re going to read the Holiday Side Special that appeared during chapter 211 of MHA. In case you’re wondering, chapter 211 is the chapter where Black Whip goes crazy during the Joint Training Arc and is pretty far past Kacchan vs Deku 2. The second part is totally not important but I thought I’d let you know anyways.

Now, let’s see what 1-A’s up to:

Aw, how cute 🥰. A snowball fight. It’s nice to see them having fun, especially after everything they’ve been through. Now where’s Izuku?

There he is 😊. Seems like he’s having a good time too. If anyone especially deserves it, it’s him. But who’s that throwing a snowball at him on the left?

Ah Katsuki you rapscallion you 😂. It wouldn’t be MHA without Katsuki taking pleasure in nearly killing Izuku now would it? Such a wholesome and humorous moment between two great friends whose rivalry pushes them to new heights 😊.

Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays 🙌

#anti katsuki bakugou #anti bakugo katsuki #anti bakugo #anti bakugou #mha critical #anti bakugou katsuki #bnha critical

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yelenasdiary · 1 year

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In the spirit of Christmas I have a request!

Nat is a super powerful and rich CEO of the biggest company in NYC. She’s cold to everyone and absolutely merciless when it comes to business. Everyone is afraid of her and her influence.

Reader is Nat’s low level assistant. Reader has to deal w her cold boss (Nat) and all her needs. Reader is afraid of Nat and afraid of messing up as she’s seen people fired without mercy before.

One day around the holidays Nat catches reader crying or smth about how she can’t afford Christmas for her son (single mom). Maybe reader can’t afford gifts or has to turn the heat off in dead winter to save money. Nat softens up and offers reader and her son to spend Christmas with her in her penthouse. Nat spoils our son and shows a side w other side of cold CEO Nat.

Kinda like devil wears Prada with some protective and hurt/comfort stuff.

THANK YIU SO MUCH!! I know this is super specific so no worries if it doesn’t stay exactly like this!! And happy holidays to you ❤️ I love your work and many blessings in the new year!

☃️ CEO of Christmas ☃️

Pairing: CEO! Natasha Romanoff x Assistant! Reader

Summary: Working for Natasha was never easy and being a low-level assistant for the CEO wasn’t where you thought you’d be after working your hardest for 2 years. After catching you in tears on Christmas Eve, Natasha cold ways start to warm up.

Slight Angst | Comfort | 1.6K | Reader is a single mum |

AC: I love how different this request is!! Thank you for sending it! I hope you enjoy it! It’s a little longer than my other Xmas fics but anyways haha, Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays!!

Day 23 | Advent Calendar Masterlist 🎄

"Y/n!" the voice of your CEO startled you as she stormed from her office over to your desk, "Yes Miss Romanoff?" you asked kindly with a warm smile. It was easier to just take her coldness than to demand respect for the way she spoke to those around her. You'd seen people get fired for little reasons that didn't matter to any other CEO that wasn't Natasha Romanoff. "Here's a list of people I have to buy Christmas gifts for. I don't have the time and I pay you, so I need you to go get everything off this list" she explained as she basically slammed the piece of paper on your desk.

"S-sure" you replied with a slight stutter when your eyes landed on the list, "What would you like me to do if one of these items isn't in stock?" you asked. Natasha frowned as she looked down at you, "Then order it in? it isn't rocket science! Now get going, I need you back within the next hour" she ordered coldly before making her way back to her office. It wasn't the first time you'd had to cover gift shopping for her, almost anytime one of her friends or family had a birthday or even coming up, it was up to you to find the gift Natasha wanted to buy. One time you couldn't buy an item on her list, even asking to get the item ordered in the store manager wasn't able to get stock. Natasha was fuming and took her anger out on you, that entire week you had the to do hours of overtime.

Lucky for you, you were able to get every item on Natasha's list, even having to have a few items delivered to the office later to avoid being late back. "Where would you like all these, Miss Romanoff?" you kindly asked while standing in the doorway of her office with bags of gifts. "Oh good, you're back. I hope that is everything off the list" she looked up from her computer looking at you in the cold way she looked at everybody. "Yes ma'am, some things I've requested to have delivered to the office later this afternoon. They were in the process of restocking some items" you explained hoping it wouldn't make her made. "I suppose there is a delivery fee" Natasha sighed with an eye roll, "No ma'am, it's all free delivery due to the inconvenience" you assured her. Natasha's attention returned to her computer, "go wrap them neatly" she instructed.

After wrapping all the gifts and making sure you did everything else that Natasha had not so kindly asked you to do, you didn't even realise that everybody else in the office had gone home. 6:30PM read on your watch as tears filled your eyes. Your son was at home with a sitter, you hated working late especially that today was Christmas Eve. Natasha didn't care for the holidays and it showed she didn't have any children of her own. You've been working for her for a little over two years and break downs became the norm for you. Natasha owns the biggest company in New York City, getting a job here isn't easy for anybody and you had never mentioned that you had a son in case she wouldn't hire you. When you first started the money was just enough to get you by and keep a roof over you and your sons head but after two years, you hoped that you would've been promoted by now.

With your son now being 5 years old and learning the tricks of Santa Claus, you wanted to make Christmas magical for him and spoil him the best you possible could. The winter was too harsh this year and already the two of you have had to suffer without heating just to save money, you've been able to guy him some toys but most of his gifts were clothing that he needed. Socks, underwear, new shoes and clothing that would fit the growing boy. You knew he wouldn't care much for the clothing and be more interested in the few toys Santa would leave him, but you hated how you weren't able to give him more.

"Why are you crying?" Natasha asked as she walked up behind you with documents that needed sorting before the new year. "S-sorry Miss Romanoff, I…I was just…it doesn't matter" you replied in a whimper knowing she wouldn't care if you even did tell her. To your surprise, Natasha pulled up a chair and sat down, "Well that's a lie, now tell me what's got you so upset. It's Christmas, aren't you supposed to be happy like the rest of the office?" she asked as she watched you wipe your tears. "I guess that's the issue" you looked up at her, "my son is at home on Christmas eve with a sitter while I'm here doing things that could wait" you explained, Natasha's face dropped slightly at the unknown news.

"You have a son?"

"I do…he's 5"

"Then what are you doing here? You should have told me; I would've sent you home a lot earlier" Natasha frowned slightly. "I needed this job…I need the money…Especially with the winter being so hard and my sitter is $20 an hour but she's the only sitter that's available for my hours so I need the overtime to cover that…I can't lose this job…" your eyes filled with tears once again.

"Why would you think I fire you?" She asked almost disheartened by your thoughts. "I've see you fire people for things out of their control before…I didn't think you'd keep around if you knew about my son" your eyes dropped to your feet, "and I'm assuring the father isn't in the picture?" Nat questioned, you shook your head "he's only met him once when he was born and said he couldn't afford a baby and I haven't heard from or seen him since".

There were a few moments of silence before Natasha spoke up, "Go home, be with your son. I'll have a car pick you both up around 8am in the morning, you both can spend Christmas with me at my penthouse", you looked up at Natasha with soft eyes, "Miss Rom-"

"Please, call me Natasha, outside of the office" she smiled softly, "I couldn't intrude on your Christmas like that" you said. Natasha shook her head, "I'm not doing anything for Christmas, I see everybody when we're all together a few days after so there isn't any excuse, you and your son will come spend Christmas with me, that's an order" she playfully winked then hanged you your coat from behind your chair, "now go home" she added.

Morning came with an excited 5-year-old jumping up and down at his new toys that Santa brought him, his favorite toy was his fire truck with working lights and siren. "Look mommy! Santa got me a fire truck!" He ran up to you with his truck in both hands, showing it off. "That's awesome honey! Are you ready to get dressed so we can go to Miss Romanoff's house shortly?" You smiled before placing a kiss on his forehead. "Can I wear my new hoodie?" he asked, warming your heart. His red hoodie with a fire truck of course. "Of course, come on, let's get ready" you replied, grabbing his outfit.

Taking the lift up to Natasha's penthouse sent goosebumps all over your body, your son holding your hand with his fire truck in the other, he looks up at you. "Mommy, why are we going to your boss's house?" he asked, "She invited us over for Christmas, honey" You smiled at him just as the lift came to a stop and the doors opened.

Natasha's penthouse was decked head to toe with Christmas decorations, Christmas music playing softly in the background and a large tree in the center littered with gifts at the bottom. "Wow!" your little boy said as his eyes scanned the penthouse, "Merry Christmas, come on in!" Natasha appeared in a deep red dress with black heels, "Hi Miss Romanoff, Merry Christmas" your son smiled at your boss with his polite manners. "Merry Christmas, please call me Nat" she smiled back at him.

Your little boy was quick to run over to the rug to play with his new truck as Natasha handed you a glass of wine, "What's his name?" She asked. "Dylan" you smiled softly as you watched him play with his new favorite toy, "Hey Dylan, why don't you see if Santa left any presents under my tree" Natasha caught his attention, but he was nervous and looked at you for an answer. "It's okay honey, Natasha said you could" you assured him.

Dylan had never seen so many gifts in his life, every gift under the tree had "From Santa" written on it. "You didn't have to go out of your way for this" you turned to Natasha trying to hold back tears from seeing how happy and excited your son was as he opened gift after gift. "I'm not as cold as you think I am, I know the chatter that goes around the office" she replied as she sipped her wine, "Natasha, I didn't mean to often you or anything last night… I'm sorry for being unprofessional but I really do appreciate this".

"You can make up to me by taking on being my personal assistant. You'll have your own office and not a cubical, less hours and you'll have holidays and birthdays off. I'm going to triple your wage on the condition that some of that money goes into a savings account" Natasha offered in her usual stern tone but with a hint of softness.

"Natas-"

"You deserve it. You have worked harder than any other assistant I have had, I've seen how hard you work and it's about time I stop being so hard on you" she cut you off knowing what you'd say. "Thank you" you whispered with eyes full of tears, finally your life was changing.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #fanfiction #marvel #black widow #Christmas

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jewbeloved · 4 months

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🎄🎁MERRY CHRISTMAS DAY AND HAPPY HANUKKAH EVERYONE!!🎄🎁

I hope everyone has had a wonderful 2023 this year! I am once again apologizing for the lack of writings, I didn't have much motivation to write any headcanons or do requests. I promise by Jan 7th (2 days after my birthday) I will begin writing again❤️❤️

CARTMAN: Kahl! what the hell do you think you're doing?!

KYLE: What does it look like I am doing fatass?

CARTMAN: I don't remember Jews being allowed to celebrate Christmas!

KYLE: Yeah, I know that. Am I not allowed to wish the (Reader) a happy holiday as well?

STAN: Just ignore them (Name), anyways..Merry Christmas!

KENNY: *without hood on* Merry Christmas (Name)!❤️

*Cue Kyle and Cartman arguing back and forth while Stan and Kenny sit there with a happy look on their face since it's Christmas*

#south park x reader #south park #southpark blog #southpark sp #sp x reader #x reader #southpark x y/n #south park incorrect quotes #incorrect south park quotes #incorrect quotes #christmas #hanukkah #merry christmas #happy hanukkah #stan marsh x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #eric cartman x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #southpark scenarios

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fryingpan1234567 · 4 months

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merry chrysler to all who celebrate

in honor, please take some holidays at chb crumbs as my gift to y'all

not everyone celebrates, obviously, but everyone’s overall in a better mood I think

it always snows. without fail. sometimes it’s the Hecate campers, sometimes it’s even Mr. D, maybe it’s genuinely just luck

anyways a camper or two is the only one there over christmas and a siege of monsters happens to occur and they Home Alone that shit

(am I working on a Malconnor drabble? maybe. will I get it out today? also maybe)

white elephant/ secret santa in each cabin, especially Hermes (people like Percy and Nico who are the only ones in their cabins participate in the Hermes one too)

Katie and Miranda bake a fuck ton of cookies and hold a decorating party in the arts and crafts building

(Percy eats more than he decorates and also completely depletes all blue frosting from the table)

Apollo cabin singing carols all over camp like the obnoxiously cheerful idiots that they are

Apollo and Demeter kids have really bad seasonal depression

it’s the only time of the year where Will is grumpier than Nico and sometimes even he’s like “woah calm down”

I feel like….. Khione isn’t looking to do demigods any favors, but she’s never actively prevented it from showing in New York out of pure spite

have you seen that challenge where you put a santa hat on the corner of the tv and you take a shot every time someone “wears” it? all the legal ones doing that

horrid orange christmas sweaters in the store

Sally gets Annabeth a bunch of architecture books and a Lego set of Rome and she’s buzzing from excitement the rest of the weekend

anyways happy holidays guys I’m totally done with the day but happy crisis to all and to all a good night (: 🎄🌟

#Riordanverse #percy jackson #malconnor #solangelo #percabeth

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kasumiube · 4 months

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❄️Merry Christmas Everyone~

I quickly drew christmas art to celeb christmas with my mootsies HUHUH ALTHOUGH THIS IS A SUPER LATE POST SINCE I FORGOT TO POST THIS HERE ERM BUT ANYWAYS HOPE YALL HAD A HAPPY HOLIDAYS!❄️🎄✨

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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nerdieforpedro · 4 months

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Patrolling on Christmas

Joel Miller x plus size female reader

Fanfiction rating: Teens and up

My blog overall is 18+

Word Count: approx 2.5k

Summary: Joel prefers patrol rather to be around others at Christmas, even after spending a few years in Jackson. He’s paired up with you on patrol and it’s not so bad. If asked, he may even say fair.

Warnings: Post outbreak, cursing, Joel is a grump, depression, survivors’ remorse/guilt, jokes about The Bard, damn knees and back, a fall, minor injury, ending fluff

Notes: I wanted to write Christmas Joel. I was going for sweet & happy. Post-outbreak Joel cropped up and my post shift mood determined that This is The Way. Merry Christmas 🎄 It’s got a sliver of sweet.

“Patrol can wait a day Joel. I don’t get why you’re still so damn weird about Christmas. It’s just all of us gathering at the Tipsy Bison and talking shit. No one’s going to ask you to do anything, not even me for fuck’s sake.” Elle threw her hands up in the air in frustration.

“...Language Elle.” Joel reminded her.

“I mean, I agree, language, but she’s right. There’s other people on rotation who can-” Tommy with his arms crossed explains, trying to put on a stern face. Doesn’t affect Joel at all.

“Shut it. I said I’m goin’. That’s it. See you tonight.” Heavy boots stepped out of the house and stopped on the porch looking back. “Have fun. Stay out of trouble.” With that, he adjusted the rifle that was over his shoulder and made his way to the perimeter to meet up with his patrol partner. He was expecting Sam or John but tried to control his eyebrows raising at the sight of you. He thought you’d join the others at the festivities.

Just like in the world before the outbreak, no one wanted to work holidays. The few holidays that were still celebrated anyway. Joel volunteered in part because the holidays always reminded him of the people he’d lost and it kept his brain from wandering to the dark recesses of his mind. If he kept busy, followed tasks and tired himself to the point of exhaustion, he’d briefly say goodnight to Elle and collapse in his bed. Then he may be blessed with the void of sleep, where his mistakes and failings may not play back through his head because he’s shut down.

The former smuggler wasn’t disappointed or annoyed that you’d be patrolling with him. In fact, it was likely best. You alternated between silence and run-on sentences about any and everything. That also removed his thoughts from being on himself. He even found himself chuckling on occasion at something you’d say that he found funny. He knew you didn’t mean it to come out that way, but hearing about horoscopes that you thought you remembered and comparing them with Maria and the other ladies based on some old papers they’d found was weird as it was ridiculous to Joel. It was good to have a bit of silliness in this hopeless world.

The both of you checked your weapons, you had a revolver in addition to your rifle. You said that you won it in a bet with Fred that Joel would ‘fire’ you as a patrol partner. Joel was curious as to why. You didn’t look directly at him when you told him why. Your gift of gab and keeping things light as well as your build which was short, stocky and thought to be poor for evading clickers, raiders and hunters. Fred wasn’t wrong in that respect outright, but you’d learned to either hide well or improve your aim to prevent them from getting to you.

Joel noted that Fred was a bigger asshole than he thought.

“Doesn't matter. What does is that I get the job done and come home. Let’s go.” Joel followed your lead, it seemed the bet you’d have with Fred had spurred action in you, not a bad thing, but it’s best to keep a cool head.

“Keep focused. Raiders and clickers don’t give two shits about Christmas.” Joel adjusted his rifle again as the two of you walked, it was a familiar path around the Jackson settlement. Shorter than normal patrol.

“I almost thought Elle was with me instead of you Miller with you talking like that.” A light laugh made Joel feel more at ease. ‘That’s more like normal. Am I sounding like Elle? Dammit.’ He wondered if he needed to worry about his own language use. The sun was high behind the clouds, peeking through every so soften as the crunch of grass and dirt was heard from both of your boots.

You still weren’t saying much and Joel had no clue what to say to get you talking. He suggested about halfway that you both sit on a rock. You offered it to him first on account of his knees. Joel’s face contorted into a scowl and refused to sit until you sat down first. When you saw that he was serious, you sat down and patted the space left on the rock and he took his seat next to you. The elder Miller brother turned away from you to keep an eye out as you did on your side. His knees stopped screaming at him that they ached, they only whispered now.

The crisp air reminded Joel that he was alive. His hair flopped with the wind, his eyes squinting slightly to get a better look at the trees and lake in the distance. He flexed and relaxed his fingers, feeling calm when he should be on high alert. Sometimes Joel found himself concerned that he wasn’t built for a calmer life. That he desired the chaos of the unknown instead of the predictability of the commune “Tommy refused to call a spade a spade. The damn place is nice, but it is a commune…” Joel muttered aloud grinning, he recalled discussing it with his brother and him being so adamant about it.

“I mean, a rose by any other name is, well not a rose. I feel like it's supposed to be more poetic than that.” Her answer made Joel turn his head slightly before keeping his face front, he still needs to be aware of any threats.

“I never had much use for The Bard. Especially now. The hell’s that pentameter shit gonna do with a clicker?”

“I’m surprised you remember that Joel. I just remember Romeo and Juliet. Hamlet. Tights and Plays, I think.”

“Full of surprises darlin’, even with these sore knees.” The broad man stood as you turned to look back at him. Hair bouncing on his head and a wry smile on his face. “We should get a move on, ya good?” He saw you nod and stand, though he couldn’t quite make out the look on your face. Maybe he did really surprise you, the thought alone made Joel put a half a pep in his step. His knees would be back to screeching soon enough. This time around you let him lead as you chatted about what the both of you knew about Shakesphere, neither of you remembered much so the two of you started making up things that he may put in a Christmas play.

“There’s gotta be some weird trickster spirit fairies that give good children presents and punish bad children. Plus ghosts, there’s usually a ghost.”

“Hamlet’s daddy came back as a ghost right? Might be a dead relative of whoever the play’s ‘bout. Also need a big feast. There’s also food.”

“Don’t talk about food Joel, I’m going to be even more hungry.”

“They always have turkey legs and grapes and wine at those things I think. I feel like that’s what was always in them plays as props.”

“You’ve seen a Sharkesphere play?”

There was a moment where Joel was quiet. “Now Darlin’ keep this to yourself. I maybe was one of those cousins of Romeo or Juliet. Don’t ‘member which one thou.” he heard you stop walking and looked to see what was wrong. Your face was beaming with this piece of information. Joel almost regretted it, but still wanted you to know. He needed not to think about why, he’d go back in the recesses of his mind again that connected to those emotions. They’re locked away to keep him functioning. “Told ya we gotta move. I’ll leave you right there.” He began walking again and heard your steps move to catch up with him.

It was when the gate to Jackson was within view. It was another period of silence after finishing the conversation about the bard and you asking several questions about Joel’s short stint in acting. He said it didn’t suit him and continued with football. You then asked if maybe he sang since they can sometimes go hand in hand. That wasn’t what did it, Joel heard you tell him that he had the voice for it. Sure it was a little raspy, but what he was able to communicate in verbal and non-verbal cues suited some songs.

Joel Miller is not an easy man to surprise. He’s seen too much, done too much and been through too much for that. At least he thought he had, and when he stopped walking, his foot got caught on some underbrush and he tried to break his fall. His left hand hitting a sharp rock and he went down. Would he be able to get up? How badly was he injured? He didn’t feel his knees right now…nope, never mind. He felt them, even more than before. He heard you yell and move by his side, he was slightly out of it and you weren’t able to lift him all the way.

“Sweetheart, don’t ruin your back. Gimmie a few.” He told you, sure he was embarrassed but he could sulk about that later. Joel really did need to get off the ground. It was cold, he was sore and anything could happen. He’s completely open. Slowly, he rolled on his side and sat up with a loud groan. The worried look on your face made him sigh, he’s supposed to be the experienced one here and he falls right in front of home basically. “Hands darlin’.” Joel stretched his large hands toward yours and you pulled him up, using your body weight to force him upright. He hopped up and took a minute to adjust, large hands holding your small ones. Joel knew he held them a few seconds more than was necessary, but he told himself it was to ensure he was steady so he wouldn’t fall again. But he knew it wasn’t, and it was no help when you decided to walk at side by side with one of your hands on his back. Normally he’d fight you on it as he did with the rock, but he doesn’t mind it being there and understands that you’re trying to help.

Your hand left Joel’s back when you two could see the guards at Jackson’s gate. Joel decided the least he could do was walk you back to your house after reporting in. Nothing unusual, no raiders or clickers. No news was good news. Your house is smaller than Joel’s, it is meant for one person. A small wreath is on your door with a red and gold bow.

“Maria said I had to put something on my door. I’ve never been much for decorating. You have to put it away later.” You explained and unlocked your door, letting him in. You had a couch, kitchen, cabinet with a few books and a dented wooden globe. Tommy had let you keep it and you weren the only person interested in it so he said it was fine you took the thing. All of them had pieces of garland on them. “Sit down Joel, I’m gonna wrap your hand.”

Joel instead walked over to the sink and rinsed his hand under some cold water. “Nah darlin’ you’ve done plenty.” Apparently, you’d had a small first-aid kit. Joel wondered what you may have traded to get one, or what you may have done to earn one.

“If you won’t sit, then I’ll wrap it while you stand. You might want to be nice to your knees though. I won’t have you falling in here.” You’re teasing him, he doesn’t hate it. Joel resigns himself to his fate and plops on your couch, noting some mistletoe on the wooden post next to the loveseat he just sat on. It looked like it was slapped up there. “Maria and Kelly decorated, hence all the garland, I never noticed that though.” Your eyes rolled and you sat next to Joel and took some supplies out of the kit, dabbing and cleaning his hand before adding some clean gauze and wrapping it. You taped it and Joel complemented your work, it was better that it was covered as to stave off an infection. He knew he didn’t need anything like that.

Not thinking about it, Joel patted your thigh before standing up, “Thanks darlin’. Didn’t mean to cause trouble. I’ll be on my way.” He realized he needed to go. It’s been too long any he can’t. He needs to wrap his head around this if he can. Maybe not his head. He just made room for Elle in his heart, would he have room for you too? Did you even want to be there? You’re friendly and talkative with everyone, it just seems special because Joel is aware of how prickly he is. But you’re not treating him differently, he’s reading into it. He may be heavily starved for companionship.

Those heavy boots of his start to carry him toward your door. He’s bid you goodbye, but you grab his arm. “Darlin’ I-”

“Joel, wait.” He closes his eyes for a moment, then stops. His boots step toward you, Joel looks down at you, trying to discover what’s on your face, but it’s something he recognizes - longing. “Could I just, just close your eyes Joel.” He shakes his head, but your grip on his arm doesn’t wane, he allows his body to relax with an exhale.

“S’alright. Don’t feel ya hafta do-”

“I don’t have to do anything. Yes, I know. Just close your eyes will you? This is the most I’ve heard you talk today Joel.” He ended up bending forward slightly, tipping his chin down and his face toward you. A pair of soft lips touched his cheek, right above his graying beard. “M-Marry Christmas Joel. That’s all I wanted to do.”

A smirk spread on Joel’s face, “Sure about that Sweetheart?” He was aware he was playing a dangerous game, but it was enjoyable. He was one for some risk. You huffed which he found adorable, your other hand found its way to his cheek and pinched him.

“I’m sure Joel Miller. Go on home and rest. Your back and knees will thank you. Dream of the bard while you’re at it.” Joel and you chuckled and you lowered your hand as he caught it, kissing the back of it and then your forehead.

“Not going to dream of some puffy bard darlin’, got someone a lot sweeter on my mind. Merry Christmas to you too. Sleep well.” Your grip on his arm loosened and he dropped your hand, heading to the door before opening and exiting your home. He stood on the porch to hear you lock it, then he started walking to he and Elle’s home.

Joel Miller might be ready to let someone in this Christmas.

Joel Miller’s Sweethearts: @morallyinept @fhatbhabie @goodwithcheese @trulybetty @for-a-longlongtime @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @musings-of-a-rose @rhoorl @laurfilijames @avastrasposts @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @megamindsecretlair @saturn-rings-writes @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @maggiemayhemnj @undercoverpena @alltheglitterandtheroar @pedrodascal @linzels-blog @lincolndjarin @pedritapascal @sp00kymulderr @movievillainess721 @perotovar @pamasaur @magpiepillsjunior @yorksgirl @guelyury @legendary-pink-dot

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