#a merry fic-mas

[ladamedusoif]

Sweets (Frankie Morales x F!Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 8

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist.

FYI: I'm having so much trouble with taglists at the moment that I'm not going to use them for now - if you want to keep updated, follow @ladameecrit and turn on notifications.

Happy Festive Frankie Friday! 🎄

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; smut, oral sex (m receiving), established relationship, reference to P in V sex

Word Count: 824 words

Summary: Frankie’s smutty imagination means you’ll never look at a candy cane ever again without giggling.

Is there anywhere better to be on a cold winter night in mid-December than curled up on the couch with Frankie, watching a cheesy old Christmas TV special? He’s snacking on buttered popcorn and drinking a beer, while you suck thoughtfully on your favourite holiday sweet: a classic, red and white striped, peppermint candy cane.

Frankie shifts in his seat and exhales, long and slow. “Jesus, fuck.”

You stop sucking and look at him, a little startled at the outburst.

His coffee-dark brown eyes are looking at you with softness and need, his breath hitching a little as his broad chest rises and falls under the warm, brushed cotton plaid shirt he’s wearing.

He swallows hard as his eyes wander to your mouth.

“Baby? What’s up?”

Frankie flushes pink. “It’s…fuck. It’s the way you’re sucking that candy. It’s…fuck, my mind is in the fuckin’ gutter.”

He chuckles, but you can still see the tension written all over his face and throughout his body. And then it dawns on you.

“Francisco Morales. An innocent little candy cane, and that’s what you start thinking of?”

Your eyes fall to his crotch, and you realise just how hard Frankie’s been thinking about…that.

A cheeky smile spreads across his beautiful, boyish face. “It’s not my fault, baby. It’s that mouth of yours, all pretty and perfect and…”

He leans in and kisses you, groaning with pleasure and need.

You put the candy cane down on a coaster and face him properly, cupping his face in your hands and caressing his patchy whiskers with your thumbs.

“What do you want, Frankie? Tell me. Tell me what you need.”

His eyes widen as he looks at your mouth, then meet your gaze. “Need your mouth on me, baby. Please.”

You push back the coffee table to give yourself a little more room and sink to your knees in front of him, parting his legs so that you can move between them.

Frankie’s breathing grows more rapid as you unbutton the waistband of his jeans and tug down the zipper, exposing his cock straining against the light fabric of his boxer briefs. With a smile, you lift up the hem of his shirt just enough to plant a series of kisses down his soft middle, from his belly button down the fine trail of dark hair, until you reach the band of his underwear.

“Fuck, please. Please, baby.”

“I love you, Francisco. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

With a careful tug of his boxers, his cock springs free: already hard and leaking with pre-come in anticipation. You hum happily to yourself as you wrap your fingers around his length, stroking the velvety skin a couple of times as you lick your lips.

“Beautiful boy.”

He moans raggedly as you slip him into your mouth, gently building up a rhythm and keeping your palm wrapped around the base.

“Oh, fuck, baby!” Frankie’s hips buck upwards as you take him further into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock.

You stop for a moment to check in. “You okay, love?”

He’s panting hard, now, head rolling back. “Fuckin’ amazing, baby. Just…fuck…tingly, or something.”

“Oh god, Frankie.” You can’t help but giggle. “It’s the peppermint. I’m sorry.”

He huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “Keep going, baby,” he murmurs. “Feels so good.”

You grin and lick a long, slow stripe up the side of his gorgeous dick before starting to suck again, carefully taking more and more of him before glancing up to meet his gaze again.

It’s always a pleasure to take care of him like this, to make your love feel so good, just the way he likes: to watch just how wrecked this big, strong man becomes under the touch of your hand and the gentle, rhythmic motions of your mouth.

Vulnerability is never too far from Frankie’s gorgeous face, but he never looks more vulnerable - nor more gorgeous - than in moments like this. Him, buried inside you and sweat leaving a sheen on his brow, kissing you deeply as he’s about to come. You, between his thighs, moaning with delight as you feel his broad hand reach out to hold your head in place as you bring him closer and closer to his release.

He pants harder and harder, babbling about how much he loves you, loves your pretty mouth, loves it wrapped around him. Frankie comes with a cry, reaching for your free hand to hold it as he spills into your throat.

He opens his eyes, hazy with pleasure, and caresses your cheek. With a languid tilt of his head, he beckons you back up to his side.

“C’mere, sweet thing. Your turn, now.”

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedrostories

[ladameecrit]

Miracle (Javier Peña x F!DEA Agent Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 17

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Pedro Boys Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist!

Follow @ladameecrit for my writing updates.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!DEA Agent Reader

Word count: 700

Warnings: References to violence, blood, injury, angst, alcohol, smoking, strong language

Rating: Mature

A/N: I imagined this as an extension of the Snowflakes world but it can be read as a standalone.

Steve had taken the call. He tried to avoid telling Javier, tried to get out of the office and to the scene without him noticing.

Steve didn’t even know about the events of Christmas Eve, just a few weeks before. He’d been home on leave when the two of you hooked up, and Javi hadn’t said anything. Why would he? Just another hookup. No big deal.

Steve Murphy was more intuitive than his partner gave him credit for. He had picked up on something between you. He wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, but a small voice whispered to him that day that he shouldn’t tell Javier you’d been shot.

At least, not until he had a chance to work out how bad the news was going to be.

***

Steve steps out of the ambulance and watches as the EMTs take you out of the vehicle on a gurney, your pale blue shirt soaked in blood. Still there, but only barely. He’s about to follow you into the emergency room when he hears a ragged voice behind him.

“Murphy? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

Javi’s hand reaches under the collar of his shirt and scratches an itch on his collarbone that, Steve suspects, is not really there. It’s one of his nervous tells, like the jangly hand thing. The veins and tendons in his neck are taut and strained as he looks at his partner. Steve doesn’t know if he’s going to yell at him or break down.

“I didn’t want to say anything until I had a sense of how bad she was hurt, Javi.”

Javi’s fingers still against his skin and he stares at the ground. “Is it bad?”

Steve pouts and sucks his teeth. “It’s…pretty bad. Lost a lot of blood.”

Javi nods silently. “I’ll wait for news. You go home to Connie.”

***

He tries to ration his cigarette breaks, fearful he’ll miss an update. He stretches awkwardly on the plastic hospital chair in the waiting room and takes a swig from the soda he’d bought from the vending machine.

He’s never wanted a drink more in his life.

Javi observes the way the medical staff move at speed, casting hasty, concerned glances in his direction. He doesn’t like this one bit. Doesn’t bode well.

But there’s no way he’s asking them about your status, not yet. He doesn’t want to prompt bad news. As long as he doesn’t ask, you’re still there.

***

“Agente Peña?”

He blinks awake, eyes struggling to focus until he realises it’s one of the doctors standing in front of him. Javi sits up with a jolt.

It’s morning. His back hurts like fuck. And the doctor is updating him.

You made it, just about, after efforts to stem the bleeding and surgery to repair the blood vessels ripped apart in the wake of the bullet.

He doesn’t hear everything after the doctor says you’re alive, just tunes in and out, picking up on the fact they considered your survival a miracle, that they had expected to lose you multiple times over.

The doctor asks Javi if he would like to see you, even at a distance, even sedated, now that you are recovering.

Javier Peña just shakes his head, pops a cigarette into his mouth, and lights it before he’s even out the door of the hospital.

***

He drives as normal for the first ten minutes of the journey back to his place, having stopped to call the office and update them. It’s like nothing happened. Just another day in Medellín. Another person bleeding out from a bullet wound, but this one got lucky.

Just another day.

So why has he had to pull over all of a sudden? Why is he feeling like he’s going to die?

He winds down his window and takes a few deep breaths. You’re alive. You made it. Why panic now?

Because you care about her. He tries to push away the little voice deep inside.

Because you were terrified she was going to die.

Because you’d regret never telling her how you felt.

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #javier pena narcos #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #narcos fanfiction

[inaconstantstateofchange]

don't come crying - a young!Raphael fic

An incredible rendition of young!Raphael by @shahs1221, here: please go check her out and give her some well-deserved adoration for it!

A/N: I'm gonna be so honest, I have no idea how to tag this in a comprehensible way, relationship-wise. Suffice to say, the Mephisto-lovers are... probably going to appreciate this more than I wish you would, and if you too are fifty leagues down the Niche Forgotten Realms Characters™ rabbit hole, you may also be enticed by the Baalphegor inclusion. 18+, please and thank you.

Summary:

Raphael blinks, attempting to reason past the howling fury within him. He has never before felt so truly attuned to his more fiendish instincts, working in concert with his mortal ones in a truly dangerous storm. He swore when he first came to this wretched plane that he would be its master one day, and he’ll be damned – well and truly – if he fails here. Or: Centuries prior to the events of the game, Raphael's return from a routine fetch quest on Mephistopheles's orders is interrupted by a summons to the throne room. His father has a lesson to impart to him, and he's going to ensure it sticks.

This is part of an ongoing story I've had in the back of my mind for several weeks now. Rather than another WIP longfic, I'll be posting additional segments from this 'verse in a series if/when I add more. If @sky-kiss has any say in it, I'm sure I will.

The only background info you really need is:

All characters are drawn from actual Forgotten Realms lore.

Raphael has recently been plucked from the Material Plane to join his father's court on Cania, in the Nine Hells.

Due to Raphael's stunted development, and an unwillingness to be shamed by his spawn's weakness, Mephistopheles has placed Raphael under the purview of his consort, Baalphegor.

Baalphegor's body is able to produce an empowering draught, too weak to hold much significance to true fiends, but sufficient to bolster Raphael's growth.

Finally, it is a pet headcanon I've incorporated into this 'verse that Baalphegor is the same individual later know as Haarlep, but you are welcome to use your own interpretation.

Raphael stumbles through the extravagant entrance doors to Mephistar, the flesh-shearing winds of Cania grabbing after him as he ducks behind the solid, enchanted stone. He’s done his best to cover all exposed skin, but there is always some that escapes his notice, leaving him bleeding out strength he can ill afford to lose. He loathes these “errands” his father sends him on, tasks purported to test his skill, devotion, and cunning. In reality, it feels more like busywork designed to keep him weak and subservient, reminding him of his contentious existence in the hierarchy and reinforcing his dependence on his father’s dubious goodwill.

The desiccated parchment that proved the focus of this most recent quest crinkles slightly, as he shifts his gaze up, the slight sound echoing across the cavernous hall as he looks with certainty for the being he knows to be waiting for his return, just as always. But — they’re not there.

He furrows his brow, an agitated and disquieting anger growing within his gut. He strides across the marble floor on frostbitten feet he can barely feel, shoving the parchment at the lone figure of Mephistopheles’s chamberlain Barbas, standing at attention at his post, and wearing his habitual sneer as he looks down at Raphael. Raphael ignores it for now, as ever, but files the snub away with all the other insults he will one day be strong enough to return tenfold.

“Where is m—the Lady Baalphegor?” He demands imperiously. They are almost always waiting for him upon his return to bestow his reward. That is the deal, the entire reason he engages in these banal fetch quests even though they are entirely beneath his rank and status. He pushes sharply at the errant thought of the pretty fiction it makes, knowing all the while that his true choice is to bow to his father’s whims or perish. True or not, it does no good to dwell on such matters, not when he will be changing them just as soon as he can manage.

Barbas’s sneer gouges even deeper into his face, growing a biting and nearly gleeful edge as he answers Raphael, “Well, young lord, as your august presence must surely have ascertained, the Lady is certainly not here.”

Raphael can feel his face going blotchy and red, and curses his mortal heritage once again for its constant betrayals. The ice-blue crystals in the eye sockets of the chamberlain harden and glint with glee at the sight. Raphael spins on his heel, marching furiously away, the parchment crumpling further within his fist. Barbas’s mocking voice rings out behind him, “Don’t forget to report to His Grace, little lord! He insisted it be done immediately upon your return.”

Raphael almost turns again to berate him, but manages to stop himself at the last moment, lest he lose even more face from the encounter. He’ll make his report as quickly as possible, then hunt down his wayward… Baalphegor, and claim his rightful recompense. The brilliant halls of Mephistar blur around him as he storms through them, focusing only on making his way to his father’s great hall with haste.

He doesn’t wait to be announced, merely pushes firmly on the doors, both with his physical form and, in a manner only recently attained, with the lashings of his own metaphysical aspect. They creak open, the sound like distant screams even on the well-kept mechanisms, and he steps through without hesitation, words of complaint already springing to his lips, when he stops dead in his tracks.

He’s found Baalphegor.

The succubus – and they are in full succubus form in this moment – is perched indolently on his father’s lap, where he sits on his ostentatious throne. But not just perched, no — impaled, as he finds when, with stricken eyes, he watches them move their body in a smooth, undulating motion up, degree by degree, before dropping back down, brilliant hair falling around them and catching the flickering hellfire-light as it glints off their red-brown skin. Soft, melodious moans are driven from their throat with each movement, as if pushed out by the — by the member within them. Their round breasts shift with the motion, the revitalizing milk within them welling up and dripping down their chest, squandered and disregarded.

He swallows, throat dry, his eyes and chest burning in stark opposition with one another.

His father casts an apathetic glance across the hall, and his eyes alight on Raphael, a cruel smirk curling at his lips. “Ah, the returning triumphant! What have you brought me this time?” His voice is nothing but mocking, no attempt made to couch his disregard for his unwanted and unloved spawn.

Raphael blinks, attempting to reason past the howling fury within him. He has never before felt so truly attuned to his more fiendish instincts, working in concert with his mortal ones in a truly dangerous storm. Everything within him is raging at the broken contract, even as it boils with jealousy at the manhandling of something that is his, and it is only the barest dregs of his staunch self-preservation that manage to keep him from attempting something truly foolish. He swore when he first came to this wretched plane that he would be its master one day, and he’ll be damned – well and truly – if he fails here.

He holds the parchment, now looking rather worse for wear, out before him on a finely trembling hand. He searches for the words he needs in a mind nearly whited out by rage.

“I… your cult in Waterdeep sends their obeisance, y–your Grace.” He curses his tongue for its fumbling, driving home further how well his father’s ploy is working to discomfit him.

“Oh,” Mephistopheles waves a careless hand. “That collection of rabble. You will leave it with my steward.”

Raphael ducks his head a bare inch, keeping his eyes away from Baalphegor as much as he can, and turns to leave.

His father’s voice rings out after him before he has completed even half his turn, sharpening with the first warning edges of his infamous temper. “Where do you think you are going, whelp? You have not yet been dismissed.”

Raphael turns back to face him, slow and careful, as the true danger of the situation sets in. He has rarely found himself in the presence of his father when these moods strike, and never without at least the tenuous support of Baalphegor behind him. And yet… he meets their gaze now, searching, and the barest fraction desperate, but there is nothing. Their red eyes meet his without flinching, cold as Cania’s glaciers. Trickles of the subtly shimmering draught spilling from their breasts have reached down to their hips now, soaking into the thatch of hair between their legs.

He tears his eyes away and forces his attention back to the far greater threat, scrambling for an answer that will satisfy his father.

“My apologies, your Grace.” The epithet comes easier this time, its passage eased by his awareness of his own precarious position. “I misunderstood your direction, and wished only to carry out your will with utmost alacrity.”

Mephistopheles rests his chin insouciantly on his hand, elbow propped against the arm of his throne. His voice, when he speaks, is sardonic and shows no signs of the ongoing actions of the succubus on his lap. “Oh very nicely salvaged, whelp. My wishes, however, are for you to remain just where you are, and appreciate the lesson I’ve prepared for you.”

Raphael swallows, the boiling heat within him growing fiercer, rage intertwined with other, less-savory feelings.

With little warning, Mephistopheles moves his hand to entangle within Baalphegor’s tresses, pulling the succubus fiercely down onto him as he wrenches their head back against his shoulder. A tremulous cry breaks from their throat, and Raphael only barely keeps himself from starting forward at the sound.

Mephistopheles brings his free hand forward and toys with Baalphegor’s breasts, pushed forward into the air from their current position. He twists pitilessly at them, prompting yet more cries as the liquid inside spills out in greater quantities, splashing, wasted, against the smooth skin of Baalphegor’s stomach. It runs in rivulets onto the throne, and down, to collect into puddles on the floor of the grand hall.

Raphael feels his stomach turn even as his mouth, well-trained by association, waters, unhindered by every other horrible aspect of this waking nightmare.

Mephistopheles wipes his hand dismissively on Baalphegor’s hair, leaving behind silvery streaks, then draws them up by their hair and hip, beginning to move within them in earnest as he continues his reproach. Raphael wants to close his eyes, his ears, every one of his senses, but knows such an admission of weakness would be worse than his undoing.

“You’ve prevailed enough upon my largess, and I am no longer willing to indulge your weakness.” Mephistopheles sneers. “You’ve proven more fortunate than any other cambion within the Hells, but from now on you will make your own way, or fail. Such is the way of Baator.”

The fires around the hall burn fiercer in alignment with their lord as he looks down at his unloved progeny. “Should you find yourself desperate for one last taste to stay your appetites, however, you may lap it from the floor like the whelp you are, and thank me for the concession.”

Raphael feels like he is become hellfire himself, the hatred he knew within him for his progenitor stoked to dizzyingly fierce new heights. Jaw aching with the effort of withholding the flood of vitriol within him, he grits out, “My thanks for your… beneficence. I would not dream of prevailing upon it further.”

Mephistopheles snorts, dismissive, then turns his attentions back to Baalphegor, by all accounts having forgotten Raphael’s entire existence.

Raphael stands, Baalphegor’s unfeeling eyes burning into his, until he is finally – finally – dismissed. All the while, the ambitions within him, already cast in carbon, are pressurized further and further, until they are as fearsome diamond, reflecting the blood and fire around him.

He will not remain his father’s lesser for long. He will see him deposed, and make him suffer for these indignities heaped upon his person.

By Asmodeus, he swears it.

#voidling speaks #my writing #my fic #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 #raphael x haarlep #haarlep #young!raphael #raphael #mephistopheles #baalphegor #merry cursed-mas y'all #vflu compliant #forgotten realms #cfmi

[fransfanatic]

Merry Christmas @fic-and-art-for-ships 🎄

Thank you so much sis For always helping me 😊😊💕💕💕

#frans #fanart #frisk #sans x frisk #frisk x sans #the world after the war #fic and art for ship #im so lucky to have you as a friend 💕💕💕💕 #merry x mas sis 🎄🎄⛄⛄

[senorabond]

"Merry Fic-Mas" December Prompts 1. Starry Night - A Lost Hollow Drabble

I've never done any kind of prompt list or monthly challenge with fandom, so I decided to give this a shot to help me get into the holiday spirit! This is also my first time writing Joel, so we'll see how it goes! (Be brave, Bondy. Be brave.)

I'm using this prompt list to get me started. I'll preface this by saying I've been working on a TLOU AU idea for a few months now, and am also using this list to help me explore that world a bit more. Leave it to me to go into this thinking I'd write a 500-word drabble and come out with a 2k-word un-beta'd scene.

To set the scene: Locust Hollow (aka Lost Hollow) is another community similar to Jackson, but set in an abandoned coal-mining town in Appalachia.

Rating: Teen??

Pairing: Joel x gn!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

STARRY NIGHT

If there’s one thing you can appreciate about the world post-Outbreak, it’s the night sky. Before that fateful day, you were used to seeing maybe a few dozen stars on a good night. Now, the lack of light pollution and smog reveals what was hidden from view most of your life. 

The first time you were far enough away from the QZ, and awake enough after that day’s exhausting trek, the stars went blurry. You were stunned to find tears in your eyes. Thousands of stars glittered across the inky heavens. It was magical and surreal, the closest you’d ever felt to what you would call a religious experience. 

Ever since that first night, you could spend hours lying on your back just staring up. On a clear summer’s night, you can even see the Milky Way – something you had only ever seen in pictures. You had no idea how to find the constellations, or what their names were beyond Orion and the Big Dipper. The North Star was easy enough to find...or was that Venus? 

The stars became a solace to you during the more difficult times establishing Locust Hollow. When out on your rounds, you would make a mental note of cleared areas where the trees and mountains wouldn’t obstruct your view. One time you found an old water tower that was tempting to climb, but a mere breeze made it creak ominously. You’re way too old now to be that stupid. 

This year, you planned to sneak away on the longest night of the year and stay awake as long as you could. Or at least until you get too cold. You'd only have a lantern to light your way through the woods to the clearing you picked out weeks ago.

You found yourself getting a bit giddy in the days counting down to the Winter Solstice, like a little kid the week before Christmas. You made checklists of what to bring and started laying everything out: what you would wear, your warmest sleeping bag, extra blankets, a thermos for tea, hip flask for whiskey, and baked potatoes to keep in your pockets. Making a fire would only ruin the darkness, so you'll need something for warmth. 

The sky was nearly cloudless, except for the thin sliver of moon left in the sky. You would have preferred there to be a new moon tonight, but you’ll take what you can get. The wind blows through the bare oaks and birch trees, making the limbs creak in the stillness. The season's first snowfall lay in a blanket several inches thick across the forest floor. Fortunately, you know your way through this patch of woods like it’s the back of your hand. 

It’s tempting to look up at the sky before reaching your destination, but the suspense makes the reveal that much sweeter. You charged up the lantern's solar-powered battery and a backup within the last few days, so you have plenty of light if you need it. You keep the light low enough that you won’t blind yourself to anything outside its meager swath of illumination reflecting off the snow. 

Finally, an hour into your hike, you arrive at the clearing. The rocky cliffs jut out over the river below, offering a wide ledge for you to lay down on and gaze up rather comfortably. You turn off your lantern and close your eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness more quickly. Counting to thirty, you open your eyes and look up at the sky. 

The wait has been worth it. The heavens glitter above you, like moonlight sparkling on the ocean. 

Tearing your eyes away for a moment, you start to unpack your gear, first laying down the waterproof tarp you borrowed from Joel's construction site, then rolling out your sleeping bag. As you lay back on the sleeping bag, smiling to yourself, you're grateful for the extra potatoes stuffed in your pockets. The rock made for a great stargazing spot, but it leeched cold up through the layers of tarp and sleeping bag within seconds.

A branch snaps in the trees off to your right, too loud to be a small critter out for a nighttime hunt. You lay still, slowly reaching for the knife sheathed on your thigh. Once it's gripped tightly in your hand, you sit up slowly, knife at the ready. Another branch snaps and a man walks into the clearing, hands raised. You swear under your breath. 

Unbeknownst to you, Joel had seen you making your preparations carefully. He didn't know what you were doing, but figured it must be important for you to act so cagey about it. Before four o'clock that afternoon, when the sun was just setting behind the mountains, he spied you stashing your pack in the wood shed. After dinner, he saw you say your goodnights to the people at your table and leave the mess hall quietly. On the way out, he curiously watched you take a couple of baked potatoes out of the serving dish and wrap them in handkerchiefs, then stuff them in your pockets. He simply had to follow you.

"What the hell are you doing here?" 

"I could ask you the same question." 

"I should throw this at you for following me,” you threaten emptily, gesturing with the large knife in your hand.

"You can't blame me for wonderin' what you were up to. You've been actin' strange all week." He lowers his arms and walks towards you, mindful of the ledge. 

"Since you're so nosy, I came here to look at the stars." 

Joel doesn't respond, except to furrow his brow. Then he looks up, and lets out a breath slowly. "Wow...that sure is pretty." 

You harumph a bit at that, resheathing your knife. 

"'M sorry. For interruptin' your peace and quiet," Joel says softly. He gestures over his shoulder, "I guess I'll head back, leave you to it." The broad-shouldered man looks at you sheepishly and turns around.

"You'll never make it back without a lantern." He waves a hand dismissively. 

"I'll be fine. Got a flashlight." He clicks it on, slipping it through the loop in his pack's strap and begins walking back the way you'd come. He stumbles after a few steps, the flashlight’s bulb too weak and diffuse to do any good. "Sonuvabitch..." he mumbles.

You sigh, and resign yourself to having company for the night. "C'mon, sit with me.” You pat the ground next to you. “Enjoy the stars for a while. We'll walk back together with the lantern." 

"You don't mind?" 

"Do I have a choice? 'S not like I'm gonna let you walk off into the dark and break your neck. Ellie would kill me." Joel grunts in agreement. 

You stand up and unzip your sleeping bag, laying it out flat so both of you can fit on top of it. Joel takes out his tattered sleeping bag, which you layer with the extra blanket you packed. The two of you lay down between the layers, the night too cold to let the awkwardness of the moment get in the way. 

You appreciate that Joel doesn’t have to fill silence with meaningless small talk. As you lay there next to the man, the warmth from your bodies starts to make you quite cozy. After a few more minutes, he adjusts himself, grunting slightly under his breath. You remember he has a bad back, and wonder if that's what's bothering him. 

"You okay?" Your question comes out in a whisper, the atmosphere hushed and intimate.

"Unh...yeah. 'M fine." He's obviously not fine, and you roll your eyes. The man is as stubborn as a mule. Joel adjusts himself again with another quiet grunt.

Remembering the potatoes in your pockets, you pull them out and nudge him. "Roll over."

He looks at you like you're crazy, but does as you say. "'Kay, now lay back."

You placed the potatoes so they'd be under the small of his back, right where you've seen him hold his hands and massage whenever he thought nobody was watching. He lays down and gasps a bit, adjusts himself, then lets out a sigh. 

"Better?"

"Yeah...thank you." He sounds a bit surprised, but soon his body begins to relax. 

Within moments, Joel’s breaths start to come more evenly and you realize he's fallen asleep. Turning your head, you look at him and see the deep grooves around his eyes and forehead have eased. This has to be the least grumpy you've ever seen the older man. 

Every few seconds, his fingers and legs twitch, and you wonder if he's dreaming. Those creases between his eyebrows furrow and before you can stop yourself, you roll over so your body is facing him and smooth a hand over his gray hair. He stills, breaths coming even again, and the muscle twitches stop. You keep stroking his hair away from his brow, then run a hand gently down his cheek and thread your fingers through the coarse scruff of his beard. Angling your head, you look back up at the stars and take a deep breath. You can smell pine needles, and a mixture of citrus and musk that must belong to Joel. 

Enticed, you lean closer and take another hesitant sniff. 

"Do I smell that bad?" Joel asks, his voice a gravelly whisper. You jump, thankful for the darkness that will conceal your blush. 

"No, you-uh... you actually spell pretty good." Joel cracks an eye open and peers at you. 

"So you do." He might be smiling, but it's hidden by his beard. The only way you can tell is the way the lines at the corners of his eyes tilt up. 

"Joel..." His eyes are open, watching the sky. 

"Hm?" 

"Why did you follow me?"

He sighs wearily, and you imagine Ellie is probably very familiar with the sound.

"I guess... I was worried about ya – a bit. Bein' off on your own in the cold. Anythin' could happen when it's this dark."

"Joel."

He turns to look at you, and you lean in, lightly brushing your lips across his. He looks at you blankly, and you think you messed up for a second before he's pressing his lips to yours more firmly. Then he's rolling over so your bodies are facing each other, pressed close and and tight. 

Joel’s large hand cups your face, the calluses on his fingers catching a bit in your hair, his beard rasping across your cheek. You wrap your free arm around his broad back under his jacket, the worn flannel soft against your skin. Joel groans as your legs entwine and tangle together. 

Your breaths come out puffing out in steam, mingling together in the cold air. Joel's mouth trails down the column of your neck, his hot tongue flicking across your pulse point until you gasp his name into his shoulder. With a growl, he pulls your leg over his waist and holds you tightly, rolling onto his back. He lets out a grunt, half pained, half in surprise. 

"Joel! Are you okay?" You sit up, straddling his waist, trying not to move while you wait for his response. You hope you haven't hurt him.

"Those damn potatoes got cold." 

You sputter out a laugh, then cover your mouth, shaking with mirth. “I thought I’d hurt you!”

Joel chuckles a bit at his own expense, then runs his hands up each of your thighs until they rest on your hips. “It’d take a lot more than that to hurt me, darlin’.” 

“Good.” You lean over and begin kissing him again. 

To your surprise, he rolls you onto your back, adjusting the sleeping bag and blanket to cover both your bodies. His large form above you is entirely in shadow now, the night sky ablaze behind him.

“Just keep lookin’ at the stars, darlin’.” 

Sighing, you relax into Joel’s arms, knowing he’ll make you see stars of your own soon enough.

#pedro pascal fandom #senorabond writes #pedro pascal #drabble #a merry fic mas #lost hollow verse #writing prompt #fic prompt #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x gn reader

[takemetothegreenwood]

The wide four-poster bed was empty, the deep green coverlet thrown back and rumpled from use. At the end of the bed dozens of blankets and pillows had been piled into a cozy sort of den. Merry and Pippin were both fast asleep in the warm bundle, their curly hair sticking up in sections, their mouths fluttering open with little snores. There was a platter of half eaten food, dried fruit and cheese and slices of thick bread, laid out near their feet. Sam and Frodo were still awake, sitting up against the side of the bed, though Frodos' head had begun to list to the side, tucking gently against Sams' shoulder.

Her eyes traveled across the room to the fireplace, which was lit and flickering, throwing red and orange streaks across the stone floor. Gimli was sprawled before it, his tanned skin glowing in the light from the flames. Above him on a low chaise was Legolas, long legs stretched out over one end, blue eyes half closed as he stared up at the high ceiling. His blonde hair was draped over the edge of the little couch, and as she watched, Gimlis' broad hand lifted from the floor, toying absently with the fine strands.

She watched them for another moment, listening to the quiet sound of the little hobbits sleepy chatter and the soft crackling of the logs. Then she cleared her throat.

Legolas sprang up at once, scrambling to his feet with wide eyes. On the floor, Gimli moved slower, though his cheeks flushed a brilliant red as he caught sight of her in the doorway. Even Frodo jumped, looking suddenly awake and weary. Sam quieted him, slipping one sturdy arm around his friends slim shoulders.

"Ma-neth," Legolas went to her, his hands outstretched, shaking faintly. "Are you alright?"

"Thalias informed me that the young ones had been seen wandering the corridors," she murmured, taking his hands in her own. "I see they've found a place to rest at last."

"Ah," Legolas cast a glance back at them on the floor near his bed, smiling softly. "I'm afraid we've grown too used to sleeping as a group. It did feel strange to try and rest without them near."

"That is quite alright," she pulled him down closer, brushing her lips to his cheek. "I will leave you to it. Let us know if you require more pillows."

His eyes flickered brightly with mirth, thankful that she hadn't asked any further questions. He bent to press his lips to her cheek in farewell.

"Thank you, ma-neth," he said. "We will see you at breakfast."

"Rest well, my little one," she nodded, letting him go to turn from the room. She didn't look back as she left, but she felt his eyes, the curious press of his stare, well after she'd stepped out into the hall.

#if I had a scene from this mess of a story I'm writing that I wanted drawn it would be this #legolas thranduilion #legolas #gimli son of gloin #lotr gimli #lotr legolas #pippin took #merry brandybuck #the fellowship of the ring #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #she's an OC alright and I love her #i wanted him to have a mom lmao #ma-neth is what I liked best for step mother #my writing #should we tag this gigolas ? probably #gigolas #legolas fic #lotr fluff #lotr fic #lotr fandom

[sabiekay]

What is one of your favorite fics?? 👀

If we’re talking about fics in general, I absolutely cannot get over how wonderful Love Bytes by @stutterfly is. This fic is my Roman Empire. I am a sucker for friends to lover stories, and I can’t tell you how many times I have read and reread this fic over the years. The way they write friendships, dialogue, and building relationships is something I still aspire to do myself to this day. There’s a reason I not only recommend this story to everyone I know, but is also the very first fic I ever recommended on my tumblr page (back before I knew how to reblog with comments 😬😬😬).

But if we’re just talking about MY fics, I just waxed poetic about (Blank) for the Holidays in a different ask, so let me talk about another one of my other favorites I’ve written, The Season.

The Season is just a good simple romantic story, and I believe it’s where I really started to find my stride. Jin is basically a prince, the OC learns how to just let go and live life, it’s definitely self indulgent in that I would absolutely watch this if it was a film and just swoon over it lolol. I had struggled with writing it, even putting it on the back burner for a couple months, because for the longest time I could not figure out how to write Jin and the world he is living in. He is such a nuanced man, in that he can be both confident in every sense of the word and shy about who he is enough to joke about it. I like to think I found that balance in this fic. Fun fact - originally I had plotted an epilogue to go at the end of The Season that takes place 3 years later, but decided it didn’t need it. Maybe I’ll visit that again some day - I adore these characters 😊

Send your Merry Ask-mas questions here!

#merry ask mas #the season #seokjin fic #replies #namjoon x reader

[whorekneecentral]

Merry Ruff-Mas

Mick Schumacher x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angie loves trouble, angie also runs away from home, panicked mick, queen corinna cameo, snow storms, kind strangers but also stranger danger cause wtf lmao, mentions of death, finger sucking, rushed sex, dom!mick for a second there, praise kink, choking, creampie, penetrative sex (p in v), gina's a bit sus of mick at the end.

Word Count: 2,257

Author's Note: it's not a mick fic without miss angie so of course this one had to be based around her.

merry smutmas series

--

Angie goes missing the day before Christmas and Mick finds her at the neighbouring ranch, wrapped up with ribbon and bows. 

Mick had headed to the stables and Angie followed close behind him as he double checked to make sure that everything was in place for the night.

Angie follows Mick make foot to foot, she was his little furry shadow.

So when he didn't hear her little pants and her paws patting on the concrete, he just assumed she ran back to the house. He locks the doors to the stable and finds his way back to the house, do you know who sat on the couch watching TV when Mick came in.

"Where's Angie?" He asks, about to take off his boots. Gina glances over her shoulder at her brother. "What do you mean where's Angie? Didn't she go to the stables with you?"

"Yeah," Mick says, looking around. "I thought she ran back here."

"No," Gina shakes her head, "she's not in here. It's just me, unless she ran up to mom and dad's room."

Mick goes running down the hallway to his parents' room. "Is Angie in here?" He sticks his head in and his mother looks up from her book.

"No sweetheart, she's not."

It finally hit him that she's outside somewhere, in the freezing cold. Before Gina could ask him where he's going, he goes running out the house. He shouts her name, tumbling through the snow. There's a giant flashlight in hand as he makes his way around the property, following a trail left behind by her bouncing in the snow.

Mick finds himself at the edge of the Schumacher ranch, squeezing through the hole in the fence and onto the neighbouring property.

A few more feet and he sees a light in the not so far distance; a house with the lights on.

The least he can do is ask, right? There was no harm in that.

A knock on the door, Mick brushes the snow off his coat as he waits, hands shoved in his pocket. A young woman opens the door, smiling at him. "Hi." She says, a warm smile on her face, a thick blanket tossed wrapped around her shoulders.

"Hi," Mick can't help the smile on his face, momentarily forgetting why he was at her door. "I uh.. I was looking for my dog, Angie. She ran off."

"Oh," you say, "you're in luck, I found a sweet puppy on my porch not too long ago." You pat your leg a few times, the puppy running from around the corner.

The man at your door dropped down onto his knees, raw dog jumping on the man; clearly they knew each other.

"I take it this is Angie?" you asked, the man nods, smiling at you as Angie runs back into the house.

"C'mere Angie!" He calls after her but she ignores him, returning to the spot she had previously occupied.

You laughed, looking out into the snow to see your car in the driveway and nothing else. "Did you.. walk here?"

"Yeah."

"I can give you a ride back if you'd like?"

"Oh you don't need to do that," the man smiles, and you shrug. "It's the least I can do, plus Angie seems to have made herself comfortable." She had curled up by the fireplace and fallen asleep.

You stepped to the side, a gust of cold breeze hitting you. "Why don't you come in for some tea or something? I'll give you two a ride home when the wind dies down."

"Are you sure? I don't want to intrude."

"Oh please, I'm inviting you in." You nod towards the hallway and who was Mick to deny such a pretty lady ?

He steps in, leaving his wet boots and coat by the front door before following you to the kitchen. Mick looks around as he trailed behind you, the house decorated like something out of a movie; big tree by the fireplace, garland and lights wrapped in every spot it could be, even the throw pillows on the couch were Christmas themed.

"Tea or coffee?" You asked, breaking his thought. "Oh uh.. tea please." He leans on the counter, watching as you move around the kitchen.

"Thank you for taking her in, I know she's a bit troublesome. I hope she didn't disrupt your evening too much."

You wave him off, flipping the switch to set the kettle on boil. "It's no problem at all, she's an angel. She was on her best behaviour." You took a mug out of the cupboard and dropped a tea bag in it. "I heard the noise outside and I figured I should check what it was. Angie's little coat was stuck in the fence and she was tugging to get loose by the time I got to her. It did rip, unfortunately."

Mick shrugs, "that's fine, really." You hum, reaching for the sugar from the cabinet in front of you. "Are you here alone?" He asks, realizing that he's yet to see anyone else.

You'd be lying if you said your danger radar didn't go off at that moment but it was a harmless question, wasn't it? Not like you had some stranger in your house with his dog.

"Uh yeah," you turned to face him, taking in his features; blonde hair tucked under his hat, bright blue eyes, his cheeks were chubby but not overly chunky, proof that he was healthy but ate well you suppose, not to mention the award winning smile he had.

There was something about him that was so charming and so familiar about him but you couldn't place it. Then again, he was a stranger in your home, all alone, in the middle of the night.

"My siblings are in the city with their partners and our parents passed away so it's just me."

"Oh," Mick trails off for a moment, "I'm sorry to hear that."

You shrug him off, "it's okay. That's life, what can you do?"

The silence fills the room, the kettle whistles and you turn it off, filling the mug with the teabag in it. You leave it steep, turning your attention back to the man in your kitchen.

"I think I have a blanket that you can wrap Angie in."

"It's no big deal, I promise. That's not the first coat she's ripped," he chuckles, making you smile. "Come with me," you nodded, walking towards the steps and up you went.

Mick's footsteps are quiet, following a foot behind when you open the guest bedroom, leaning down to haul a box out of the closet.

He sat on the floor with you as you went through the stack of blankets that you've pulled out of the box. "Take whichever you want," you tell him, flipping through the stack yourself. He hums, watching as you flip through them and picks out a pink one with little butterflies on it.

You smiled, giggling. "That's uh.. that's my baby blanket."

Mick opens his mouth, "oh! Sorry!" He says, about to put it back into the stack but you stop him.

"It's fine, I haven't used it in years."

He shakes his head, reaching around you to wrap the blanket over your shoulders, "it's still yours," he whispers, leaned into you.

Your faces were all but an inch apart, Mick's lips ghosting over yours. It was you that closed the gap between the two of you and it was like a switch flipped.

A fight for dominance, the two of you on the floor all over each other.

"I don't usually do this," you mumbled, your lips on his as you felt Mick's hands slip under your top.

He hums, "me either." His eyes fixed on the red lace that covers your tits. Mick leans forward, kissing along your collarbones and down to your tits, you were so distracted by the feeling that you missed him pulling your pants down, leaving you in just your panties.

He smiles, standing up. You shift, now on your knees in front of him, hands resting on your thighs as you look up at him. He leans down and kisses you, his knuckles brushing the underside of your chin when he looks at you, kissing you once more. 

Mick grabs your chin, tilting your head back as you look up at him. 

His index fingers taps your cheek lightly and you open your mouth, “hm such a good girl.” He squeezes your face slightly before he slips his thumb into your mouth. 

He crouches down in front of you, eyes fixed on you and watching your every move; the way your own eyes study him or perhaps the way your lips wrap around his thumb, the feeling of your tongue on his finger. 

“Bet you wish that was my cock, hm? Bet you'd look pretty with it in your mouth.” 

He smiles at the way your eyes widen at his filthy words.

It was a few moments later that he pulled his finger away, kissing you once more; sloppy and messy before he pushed you to lay down for a moment.

He sits on the floor, his back against the bed frame when he pulls you down onto his lap. He kisses you, tapping your hip softly so you’d lift off him a bit before he lines himself up with you and you sink down onto him. The two of you let out a sigh at the same time; Mick feeling you clench around him and you feeling him stretch you out. 

"Relax,” he tells you, a hand rubbing along your thigh. “Take it so well, angel.” He mumbles against your lips before his hand wraps around your neck, fingers squeezing against the soft flesh causing a little whimper to slip past your lips. 

His ocean eyes fixed on you; chest heaving, the thin layer of sweat across your soft skin made it glisten under the white light of the living room, your hand wrapped around his wrist.

His hand finally moving from your neck, letting you take a deep breath; the air burning your lungs. 

A hand wanders down your chest, fingers brushing over your nipples before moving down your torso to your clit. He presses down, rubbing slow circles.

You fall flat against him, your arms wrap over his shoulders, his hand resting on your lower back as he bounced you up and down on his lap. 

His hand slips between the two of you once again, rubbing slow circles on your clit until he feels you clench around him again. 

“Oh- fuck,” you breathe, your hand gripping his arm as he leans into you. 

“I know, I know - I'm right here.” He whispers to you, his hand moving in time with his hips. 

Between the two, he pushes you over the edge. The knot in your stomach comes loose and he watches as you cum. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, Mick follows behind you. 

It takes you two a moment to register all of it, you're still leaning on him when you speak. "I meant it," you say.

"What?" He leans back, looking at you.

"I don't usually do this."

Mick laughs, "I believe you, me either."

The barking from downstairs gets your attention, it seems Angie had woken up and seen everyone had disappeared. The two of you manage to get separated and dressed, heading back down to the puppy waiting on you.

Mick had picked up a green blanket from the stack in the room. "Shall I drive you two home now?" You asked and Mick nodded, "if it's not too much trouble."

You smiled, the three of you piling into your car, Angie in the back seat with her head sticking between the two of you while you drove with Mick's directions. You knew the place, the Schumacher Ranch - that's why his face seemed familiar.

The car came to a stop in front of the house. "If you ever want some company over the holidays, call me. I’ll come by or you can come over." Mick says and you smile, nodding.

"You know, I didn't even catch your name. I don't even think I asked." you giggled and Mick smiled, realizing that he didn't know yours either.

"I'm Mick," he extends his hand out to you. As one does, you take his hand, shaking it. "Nice to meet you, Mick. I'm y/n."

He pulls you by the hand, kissing you once more for the night. Angie pokes herself between the two of you, you laugh and reach over to rub her side. "No more running off hm?"

Mick gets out of the car, helping Angie out before leaning into the car from the opened window. "Thank you again.. for everything. I'll see you around, y/n."

"I'll see you around, Mick." You smiled, waving to him and Angie as they went up the steps to the door.

Gina was sitting on the couch next to the window when they came in. "Gosh, I thought you died out there. I was about to send out the search party." She tells her little brother, rubbing Angie's side as the dog jumps onto the couch with her.

Mick laughs, rolling his eyes.

"Was that y/n I saw outside? From next door? I didn't know you knew her." Gina raises an eyebrow.

Mick waves off his sister, "she found Angie and invited me in for a cup of tea." He tells her, smiling to himself when he remembers the cup of tea left on the counter - what had happened was way better than tea.

---

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

#merry smutmas xoxo #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher smut #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 smut

[smooth-perceval]

“Merry Christmas wherever you are.”

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Reader attempts at soothing their child- and when all fails she calls the one man they both need.

Warnings: Self-Doubt, fluff, Google translate, Charles being cute, not every Christmassy… NO PROOF READ!!

Key: Y/N (your name) Y/L/N (your last name) Juliette (Yours and Charles kids name) Jules (her nickname)

Word count: 744

A/N: I’m sorry… I didn’t stick to my schedule I really have a bad timing issue- infact schedule issue. Sorryyyy! But to make up for it I got some good fics coming 👀

Or so I think are good. Also sorry this isn’t as Christmassy…

I wanted to cry, I was on the verge of tears and crawling into a corner… Juliette had no way of settling- in fact she was practically screaming the house down.

The one thing I didn’t want to do was call for help- because I’m her mother I can do this… but yet I still found myself picking the phone up and dialling the one man I need right now.

“mon chéri? You okay?” (My darling) A panicked Charles picked up the line before the first ring, and if Juliette wasn’t screaming so loud I probably would’ve sat and twirled my hair at how cute he is.

As soon as I heard the words ‘you okay’ I bursted into tears along with our baby. “Charles I don’t know what to do… she won’t stop crying!” Taking heavy breaths I gently placed my hand onto of Juliette’s tummy trying to soothe her.

“Chérie… breathe- take some deep- just one minute.” (Darling) I heard him rustling around and a door click shut on the other end of the call, he must’ve had to run away from the team for my breakdown… gosh do I feel like the worst mother and partner…

“Let me FaceTime you-” sniffling I moved the phone away answering Charles FaceTime call.

“hé ma jolie fille…” (hey, my pretty girl), even though he was across the waters- seeing his face washed a sense of relief over me… and oddly enough Juliette’s cries got quieter slowly- crazy huh, her fathers voice is the answer to both our prayers.

“I’m so sorry… I know your busy- I just I don’t know what to do…” sniffling once again I looked down at Juliette who was also sniffling… eyes opening and closing slowly proving to me she is tired yet has been fighting it this whole time. “Family always comes first how many times do I tell you this.”

“I know I just feel like a terrible mother I can’t soothe my own child…” and now I’m setting off again, tears rolling down my cheeks- lip quivering. Which also to my expense set Juliette back off.

“Y/N you’re the most perfect mother- Our Juliette is so lucky to have such a perfect woman in her life. Now stop doubting yourself, okay?” Nodding slowly I wiped away my tears taking another deep breath. “show me our gorgeous girl.” Smiling a little I turned the camera so they can both see each other.

“Hé mon bébé!” (Hey my baby!)

And just like that she calmed back down again, her dad has that effect on us both I guess. “I’ll be home soon princesse.” (Princess)

The most adorable yawn escaped her tiny body, legs and arms both kicking up and down and the smile back on her face. “Now’s time for you to sleep Jules… no more crying. Go to sleep princesse.” (Princess)

My finger danced over her face delicately, and soon she was falling asleep. “bébé?” (Baby?)

Humming I turned the camera back around, relief washed all over my face. “I’ve got to go now mon amour… are you going to be okay?” (My love) Looking down at Jules who was practically in a slumber, eyes opening every now and then. I paused for a moment, before taking a deep breath and nodding at Charles. I’ve got this- I’m her Mother, I’ve got this.

“I’ll be okay… thank you.” Lying back on the bed I looked at the FaceTime, hand resting on Juliette’s belly once again. “Don’t thank me… I’m sorry I’m not home for Christmas, especially the first as a family.” Sighing he moved the screen closer to himself. “Just means we get two huh?” Smiling a little I leaned forward kissing the camera of my phone. “I love you Charles Leclerc, come home to us soon.” Smiling a little at him, his eyes seemed to well just a little, a small sight of tears. “As soon as I can mon chéri… I love you more.” (My darling)

Then the screen went off, and silence engulfed the room… Juliette’s soft snores were the only thing heard.

And when the silence becomes a soothing lullaby, and the twinkling of the Christmas decorations become a trace, I placed a gentle kiss to my fingers- waving it off into the air. “Merry Christmas, wherever you are.”

Little did me and Jules know- our favourite person was waiting on a flight home and would be here when we wake, our Christmas miracle.

#f1 imagine #formula one imagine #imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #dad!charles leclerc #12 days of christmas

[fanaticsnail]

Something Like That

Masterlist here, Request link and mood board here.

Word Count: 4,048

Hi everyone! This is the last x-mas fic I can push out before my time away over the holiday period interstate. I hope you enjoy reading for our boy Zoro. Thank you @sordidmusings for keeping me motivated! Merry Christmas, Anon! Just in case it peaks your interest @gingernut1314

Warnings: Fluff, Christmas, talks of battle scars, kissing, dancing

Just like all of the times you had ventured to Baratie, this time had every intention of being no more than passing time with delicious food. The floating restaurant atop a mighty ship was your favorite stop-off on your way home to Lougetown to visit with your extended family; the food’s glowing reputation almost did justice to the divine quality and the accompanying drinks were what dreams were made of. The fact that the staff was comprised of reformed pirates also held an appeal, considering your ties to that lifestyle as a skilled archer.

Bidding farewell to the vessel you had bartered onto for voyage, you heard a strange amount of merriment floating melodically from the wide fish-mouth at the bar lounge of the grand restaurant. You furrowed your brows, arching one up as curiosity held you captivated by the songs seeping to the surface with a wide array of demonstrated skill. Some vocals were sung blissfully, others shouted with no skill depicted within their throats. 

Taking deliberate steps with your bow in hand, quiver strapped firmly against your waistbelt and traveling satchel thrown over your shoulder, you sauntered to the grand doors and lobby of the restaurant to meet the matradee. He welcomed you with a broad smile, which rose to sit comfortably and warmly, peaking at the apples of his cheeks. His regular white formal garb was replaced with a deep emerald green dinner jacket, a small bushel of pointed leaves with red shimmery berries strung together by twine.

“Welcome back to Baratie!” He exclaimed with glee, “I have your usual table awaiting you.” He gestured a guiding hand to the right and indicated for you to follow his direction to the bottom of the twirled staircase.

Your confusion seemed to set in further as you took in your surroundings. The usual bare bars of the railing were ornately decorated with vines of sharpened, needle-like sprigs and small warm lights shining amongst the shrubbery akin to starlight. Your gaze was drawn upwards, noticing a small and sporadic assortment of floral clusters clinging to the roof and down the pillars of the supporting canopy. The bunches were of pale sage green, floating romantically down and arching their spindles out to grasp the pearled white flowers amongst the greenery.

As your gaze fell to rest upon the circular room, you noticed individuals joining against each other in embraces of romantic twirling and swaying. Their voices would raise to join with the tune regardless of how skilled they were to carry the tune, prompting you to raise an apprehensive smile to your lips.

“What is going on, sir?” you asked the fishman matradee as he chaperoned you to your regular table, “this all seems rather strange and unusual for a Monday afternoon, don’t you think?” Your tone of playful jest prompted him to chuckle in response, pulling out your chair for you to sit within your corner booth. Wordlessly, he took your bow and satchel while you unstrapped your quiver to disarm yourself to place your valuable items to be placed in the cloakroom.

“One of our kitchen-hands has returned to us, settling his dining debt from his time with us,” the matradee informed you, a playful twinkle drawn up to his eye, “and in celebration, we’re attempting to showcase a custom he had picked up on his travels.”

You hummed in response with a polite nod, brows raising with interest as you pulled your gaze over to view the diners amongst the crowd. Noticing jovial laughter and an uproar of cheers, you pulled your gaze to seek out its source. A young man with a straw hat atop dark loose curls immediately captured your attention, his eyes upturned and jaw hanging wide as he allowed another heartily laugh escape from his chest. His arms were hooked around the necks of two of his companions, drawing them in closer to his chest; a woman with short orange hair clutched within his right arm, while a bandana-clad man with a similar cheery expression lay gathered within his left.

Scanning over the remainder of the party members surrounding him, your eyes first drew to examine the tall, blonde companion. His hair skewed the view of his left eye, but what you could make of his right; he was a delight to look at. After holding your eyes against the blonde for longer than you truly thought appropriate, your eyes met with the final stranger of the party. His dark hazelnut orbs immediately locked on your probing gaze, bearing a protective intensity, his moss-coloured locks raised without much care as to which direction the strands fell.

As his eyes continued to hold your attention, you stared him down to reciprocate his wordless challenge. His brows furrowed briefly before a wolf-like grin rose to his lips, smirking up to the right-hand side of his face with an air of arrogance. Training as a skilled archer had drilled the practice of continual focus on a multitude of targets. This small challenge set your heart alight with a similar thrill to hunting a foe, the green-haired man not shying away from your attention and focus.

He was captivating. His air of protection and loyalty to his companions transferred without question of translation. You watched as he drew his dominant hand to fall to rest against a white blade hilt at his side, his wrist hanging limply against the handle atop the scabbard. He arched his left brow up at you and gestured with his chin, indicating to you that he would not shy away from a fight if one was to be offered to him. You arched up your brow with your own smirk, gesturing lightly with your hands over your torso and falling down to your waist; indicating you were currently unarmed.

Without breaking your gaze from his challenge, you reached your hand below the white tablecloth, shielding your hand from retrieving an item from your handbag beside you. You let out an audible laugh as you watched him fix his posture more upright, his smirk falling from his lips as his frown deepened in partial alarm. After feeling the hard object you were searching for, you raised it to no longer be obscured from view and rotated it within your hands to demonstrate how non-threatening the item was.

His face immediately dropped at his idiocy as his eyes took in the novel you were holding within your hands, closing his eyes and having a small smile rise to his lips. As soon as his eyes closed and soft chuckle fell from his lips, you relished in the knowledge that he was the first to back away from the intense wordless challenge he initiated with his eyes, indicating that you had won the small victory. 

While his eyes were closed, you fully examined his face. Eyes first shamelessly raking over his hair, trailing down and over his closed eyes and settling on his parted lips. His coy smile now completely risen against his lips held a foreign beauty, the creases of his cheeks indicating such softness was not a common occurrence. He was intriguing, someone you would have considered pursuing should you have had more time between your usual meal at Baratie and the upcoming ferry you had booked to shepherd the remainder of your journey. 

You shook your head, uncaring whether he would meet his intense gaze against yours again as you opened the pages of the novel you had begun reading on your journey out to sea, picking up where you last left off. The words whittled within the pages were of a variety of archery techniques and forms, a gift bestowed upon you by your favorite uncle - the one you held the most joy in rejoining with in Lougetown. 

A gentle cough interrupts the passage you were skimming, drawing your attention up to the waiter beside you. He placed down in front of you a seasonal beverage, the steam rising from the rim wafting towards your nose to envelop your senses with its rich, velvety and creamy scent. You thanked the waiter as he placed an accompanying biscotti beside the treat, the crumbled texture littering the small side dish with pebbles of its buttery substance. 

Reaching towards the handle, you raised the drink to your face, gently parting your lips and circling them to blow on the scorching liquid. After relinquishing your gentle blows to your particular satisfaction, you drew up the mug and took a quick sip of the contents. Immediately flooded by the indulgent flavor of the caramelized chocolate mixing with the creamy and decadent texture of the frothed milk. You sighed, breathing out your pleasure at being once again welcomed by the perfect combination of flavors offered to you at Baratie. Placing down again onto the circular, ceramic dish, you lifted your novel to continue reading from the last page you left of; blissfully ignorant or willfully ignoring the intense pair of eyes continuing to hold firm their locked gaze upon you.

“Something the matter, Zoro?” the Straw-Hat captain asked from beside the swordsman, clutching the bone of a perfectly prepared tomahawk steak within his right hand while chewing on the sinew, “you’ve been staring at that table for a long time now.” The swordsman remained quiet, not truly hearing the words spoken to him.

“”M’fine, Captain,” He mumbled. It was true, he had become entranced by the person he was currently inspecting. His bewitchment had only intensified as he witnessed your knowing and examining gaze falling to seek out the loud and joyous laughter falling in the air of the surroundings. You had to be a hunter, by the looks of you: whether it be seeking bounties, hunting animals or contesting mark-matching with the bow you allowed the fishman to leave with. 

“You sure there, Moss-Head?” Sanji taunted him, his signature smirk ruffling the temperament of the swordsman further, “you seem awfully focussed on the-... -Oh. Oh, they’re quite pretty, aren’t they?” Zoro snapped his gaze up to focus on the chef whose head was now shamelessly pointed directly at you, eyes searching your body and examining him the way Zoro was trying hard not to. 

“What of it, waiter?” he growled in a disinterested snarl. Sanji slowly dragged his gaze from your body over to face the swordsman once more, eyes darkening with a challenging intensity. 

“I think they’re very pretty, indeed,” Sanji’s exposed brow twitched in an upturned flirtatious suggestion. Usopp smirked, leaning in on his elbows to get a better view of the show Sanji was absolutely going to engage against the swordsman while Nami shook her head. Rolling her eyes, she sat back to rest her shoulders against the plush booth, tilting her head down to shield her smirk to remain hidden in her expression of amusement at their rivalry. 

“I think they’re so pretty, in fact,” Sanji snuck another glance at you, watching as you pursed your lips while turning another page of your novel, “I think I’m going to ask them to dance the next round.”

“What’d you say, waiter?” Zoro tilted his head, attempting to hold his composure and feign disinterest at the challenge. The subtle gruff anchor of his voice gave him away, Zoro winced at his own vocal tone. Sanji chuckled at the failed attempt, choosing to draw his elbows against the table and cradle his chin to rest atop his laced fingertips. 

“It’s not like you’re man enough to ask her to dance, anyway,” Sanji’s smirk rose into a broader grin, relishing in Zoro’s physical reaction of sharpening his posture to rise against the jab. The blonde chef chuckled darkly, drawing his lips to press against his fingertips before suggesting with another jab: “Someone like that looks like they’d prefer to be held in the arms of a real man, not something like you, Demon.”

“I’ll let the two of you know when I see one,” the orange-haired navigator murmured in a low tone, her voice immediately capturing the attention of the two bickering crewmates. Usopp feigned pain, clutching at his heart briefly before nodding in confirmation of her comments: both flinging their heads back in unbridled laughter at the motion. Luffy continued to remain blissfully ignorant, finally sucking at the large bone to rid the object from all edible elements of the dish while offering a small laugh of his own. Although he truly had no idea why they were laughing at that moment, he was happy his crew was getting along - to the best of his knowledge, anyway.

That was the occasion after all: merriment and joyfulness being the central point of the entire reason for this celebration. Sanji and Zoro turned back to face each other again, eyes bearing an electric intensity as they met their rival’s challenge. 

“No,” Zoro gruffly growled, his lips curling in a small snarl. Sanji arched his head to stretch out his neck, eyes closing as he felt a gentle ‘pop’ and sighing in reaction. 

“You gonna actually approach them and ask them to dance?” Sanji lazily taunted him, his smirk returning, “or am I going to get there first?”

At that final nudge, Zoro was away from the table and almost stomping his heavy boots against the polished floorboards like a chastised toddler. Sanji chuckled at the response, reaching forward to claim a portion of the confit potatoes to place on his plate. 

“I gotta know, man,” Usopp leant in towards Sanji, his broad smile rising to his cheeks, “were you that interested in them, or just wanted to get a rise from Zoro? I can never tell with you.”

“That’s my secret, Great Captain Usopp,” Sanji’s left corner of his lip curled up in a smirk with a playful glimmer in his eye returning, “I’m always interested in getting a rise out of him. Beautiful strangers are always a bonus. My favorite is when those two things are not mutually exclusive,” he chuckled, collecting an assortment of ingredients on his fork and raising the utensil up to his lips, “two birds with one stone, and all that.”

The thud of heavy boots alerted you to a figure closing the distance between themselves and your body. The thumps of the hard boots against the polished floor reverberated with a sense of danger. Patiently, with a sigh exiting your parted lips, you placed a small piece of parchment back into your novel to tab the chapter and slowly turned to look at the approaching figure. 

“Can I help you?” you asked, a bored tone with a subtle air of cautious warning befalling your cadence. As you drew your eyes up, you noticed the same intense gaze from earlier falling to meet your sat position on the table. His eyebrow seemed to twitch, indicating slight agitation as his jaw was clenched tightly shut. Cocking your head to the side, you allowed a partial softness to grace your features as you danced your eyes between focussing on each of his hazelnut orbs.

“I-, uh-,” the man was stumbling over his words, unable to string a sentence of cohesion together. He raised his hand to the scruff of his neck, pinching the flesh with his calloused hands and grimacing at his expression. 

“You?” you cooed up at him, a smirk rising once more to your lips. You shook your head, hair dancing at the small sway of movement. Your attention was once again captivated by him; the arrogant energy you had initially met your gaze with was dismantled under his apprehensive aura. 

Zoro had every intention of proving how much of a ‘real man’ he was to his crew, although not so much of a display in masculinity; but more of a need to not allow Sanji the pleasure or satisfaction of flirting with someone so enchanting as you. He was going to simply offer his hand to you, smirk in a gesture to ask you to join him on the dance floor and parade you in front of his crew. But alas, as soon as his eyes met with yours once again; he felt helpless and small under your huntress eyes.

“Well, are you going to stand there all rigid, swordsman?” you taunted, reclining in your seat and resting your elbow atop the backrest, “Or are you going to take a seat?”

Again, Zoro found himself taken aback by your direct approach. He followed your index and middle finger as you gestured to the empty seat in front of you. He shook his head a little to rid him of his prior bewilderment and then apprehensively moved to withdraw the chair to take a seat. You took him in, watching his deliberate movements in the way he sat atop the chair: every action intentional. As he sat, he offered no conversation other than broody silence. His eyes would flitter over to check-in on his prior dining companions and grimacing as his gaze was met with taunting gestures from his crew.

“Friends of yours?” you asked him, brow arched and reaching for the handle of your mug. 

“Something like that,” he uttered in a gruff tone, arms folding abrasively over his chest. You chuckled at his tone, taking a small sip from your mug and eyeing him deliberately. 

“Care to share further, or would you prefer having another wordless exchange?” you placed the empty cup back down on the dish and offered another challenging smile. He snapped his eyes back to yours and his smirk rose again to his lips. 

“They’re my crew,” his rumbly chuckle was withheld in his chest beneath his smirk, “I like half of them, but respect the lot of them.”

You hummed in response, index finger dancing atop the rim of your relinquished mug of hot chocolate. “Would you like to tell me more? I’m all ears about the ones you like and the ones you’re less fond of.”

Over the course of the next few hours, the swordsman and you would swap tales of travels throughout the East Blue and the Grand Line. Foes bested, beasts conquered and sorrows overcome: the tales of injuries you had both granted to opponents and received at the hands of them. He leant back against the back of his chair and slowly unbuttoned his shirt and hooked his fingers within the collar and hemline of his shirt to draw it back to showcase proudly to you. You felt your breath hitching in your throat at not only the physique of the swordsman, but in awe at the large healed mark slashed across his torso. You felt utterly ill-seasoned with your smaller indents of arrows and thrown dagger marks littering your shoulders. As you hooked your middle finger in your left shoulder strap and coyly revealed the small silver, healed markings, Zoro was held captivated by the marks to showcase your tales of battle. 

Enamored, awestruck and enchanted; you both held a small lilt of encaptured silence, leaning in on your forearms against the white tablecloth and gazing into the eyes of one another. Respecting your mutual combatant skill, both you and Zoro’s eyes fell half-lidded in adoration as you held each other’s undivided attention. 

The music and merriment fell into a slow tune, reflective of the seasonal tradition Baratie was attempting to celebrate with succession. Zoro was the first to break the silence between you, placing his left hand on the table with his palm up.

“Would you wanna dance?” he asked, his drawl gruff but attempting to remain polite in his request. You smiled, reaching your right hand to fall within his own, his hand immediately circling around your fingers firmly. His thumb circled over your four fingers, caressing his calloused and experienced hands over your skin.

“You don’t seem like much of a dancer, Zoro,” you commented, both rising to your feet. He drew you in close. Keeping his left hand extended upwards, and raking his right over the mid of your back to draw your torso flush with his, he uttered: “I’m not, but it seemed appropriate. Considering the holiday, and all.”

“Ah, yes. We never did quite get to discussing what all this,” you gestured with your chin, smiling at the decorations surrounding the room, “was all about.”

“I’m not really sure on the minor details,” he shrugged, awkwardly swaying you to the music, “Cap’n just said something about different traditions needing to be incorporated. Something about food, music, dancing, and decoration-...-oh. Oh, no-.”

You furrowed your brows, looking up at the roof to follow after his risen gaze. A small sprig of white, pearled flowers hung over your heads, accompanied by sage-coloured oblong leaves wrapped in ribbons of satin and twine. You cocked your head, left brow raising in curiosity at the flowers and their significance. Drawing your gaze back to the swordsman in front of you, you noticed he was stooping himself all the more closer to you.

“What are you doing, swordsman?” you questioned, halting him in his descention towards you. 

“This is one of those traditions,” he said, unlacing your right hand from his left and wordlessly asking with his eyes for permission to cradle your cheek within his palm. You looked at the hand first, then drew your eyes back up to meet his intense gaze. Smiling, you placed your cheek into his awaiting palm while holding his gaze firmly against your own. 

“Touching a stranger’s face beneath strange flowers is a strange tradition,” you furrowed your brows at him once more in curiosity.

“Kissing them beneath strange flowers,” he corrected you, leaning to join his lips immediately against your own. A small squeak fled from your lips, eyes widening as you felt the intensity falling from his chapped lips onto your own.

This was not how you pictured your return to Baratie to go at all. Sure, you had dreamed of meeting a handsome stranger and sharing an embrace with them. The stars just never aligned for you in any way that drew you close enough to share a kiss with them, only ever moments of story swapping or sharing a meal or two with many travelers accompanying you. 

You allowed yourself to become relaxed into the embrace, reaching your hands up to circle his neck below the assortment of flowers. His brows furrowed in concentration as he inhaled sharply through his nose in reaction to your reciprocation. You smiled, closing your eyes and tickling the scruff of his neck beneath your fingertips; lacing his untamed sea-sprayed locks within them. He expertly opened your mouth to taste more of your lips by angling his chin upwards against your own. A small groan rumbled within his chest, passing from his mouth to fall against your own as he continued to cradle you against himself.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from his embrace with your eyes remaining closed. You felt a small pause falling with his next actions, before you felt a warm forehead press against your own. You reopened your eyes, your half-lidded and lazy smile mirrored against the face of the swordsman you just shared a kiss with. 

Interrupting your embrace, an announcement was called over the speakers. The crackle of cables and wires sprung to life within the metal relay, alerting you with a vocal command: “The next vessel to Lougetown has arrived. All those traveling to Lougetown, report to the peer with your documents. Next vessel to Lougetown will depart in twenty minutes.”

“That’s me, unfortunately,” you sighed, eyes remaining closed but lips drawn up in a wide smile. 

“Business in Lougetown?” Zoro’s whisper rumbled within his chest. 

“Something like that,” you withdrew your forehead from its place resting against his own, “much akin to your crew, although I’m held attached by biological relation.”

“Anyone I’d know?” Zoro smirked, eyes remaining partly glazed over enamored by your small daliance. 

“I never ‘name drop’, swordsman,” you cooed up at him while unlacing your arms from his embrace, “but if you’re in the general area,” you retrieved your belongings from your table and laced your handbag and novel over your shoulder, “I’ll be at the G-5 Marine Base with my uncle for the next month for training.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” he smirked, eyes upturning to indicate his joy at the thought of meeting with you once again.

#x reader #one piece #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #xmas fic #opla xmas #mistletoe

[sturnioloshacker]

christmas morning surprise - a chris sturniolo short

a/n: not requested; lowercase intended

a/n: this is my present to you all for getting me to 1500 followers! thank you all so much, you deserve this fic 🩷 (keep in mind that this fic was written in november hence the xmas theme)

summary: your bf chris surprises you on christmas morning

as snowflakes gently blanketed the city on christmas morning, i awoke to the sweet smell of cinnamon and the sound of soft carols playing. removing the blankets, I sit up and slip on my cozy slippers and make my way to the living area of the triplets’ house. as i walk, i notice a trail of twinkling fairy lights leading towards the living room. how strange, those weren’t there when we hung up the christmas decorations! I finally enter the living room to find my boyfriend of 2 years, chris, stood in the middle with a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

“merry christmas mamas, breakfast is ready.”

“aww chris! thank y- ooh cinnamon scrolls!”

i rush to the dining table and start violently tearing the warm fluffy bundle of joy apart. i sigh in content as the cinnamony goodness makes my tastebuds tingle in delight. after breakfast, the triplets and i sit around the christmas tree to unwrap our gifts from each other. once i open a tigger plush toy from matt to match with his eeyore plush and a giant bucket of my favourite candy from nick, i grab my present from chris. i undo the ribbon from the box and lift the lid off to find a scrapbook inside. 

“a scrapbook?”

“open it, ma. trust me.”

i take the book out and open it to find cherished memories of our relationship from the past 2 years. each page contained many polaroids and notes from every milestone we shared together. as i look through the book, my eyes well up with tears. chris is always so thoughtful when it comes to presents and this was next level. i can’t help but let a few tears run down my cheeks, the happiness in me taking over. 

“oh my gosh, chris! thank you for this, i love it so much.”

“i’m glad you love it, it took me so long and to keep it a secret from you was so difficult.”

i get to the page that says christmas 2023 and notice it’s blank. realising that it needs to be filled today, i squeal in excitement, knowing that i’ll be taking so many photos to stick into the scrapbook. i look up to find chris holding mistletoe in one hand and my polaroid camera in the other. i squeal again and crash into his open arms. he holds the mistletoe over our heads before leaning in to capture my lips in a sweet kiss and taking the photo. 

best christmas morning ever!

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets imagine #sturniolo triplets fluff #sturniolo triplets fanfic

[ladamedusoif]

Starry Night (Joel Miller x Stargazer f!reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 1

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist.

Pairing: Jackson!Joel Miller x Stargazer F!Reader

Rating: Teen

Word count: ~1500

Warnings: Strong language (Ellie is involved); canon doesn’t go here; alcohol references; fluff; almost certainly some stargazing errors please forgive me

Summary: There are a lot of wonderful things about making it to the safety of Jackson, but the darkness of the night sky makes it a perfect home for a stargazer like you - and you’re only too happy to share your knowledge with a space-mad teenager. Oh, and her grumpy dad.

Every time you set up your telescope, you remembered the look Maria had given you the day you returned from a scavenging mission with it strapped to your back, still in its packaging.

“Seriously?”

You shrugged as you got off your horse. “Seriously. Got plenty of other stuff too, so let me have this, please?”

She looked dubious, but threw up her arms in resignation. “If we need it for lookout - it’s ours, okay?”

You nodded, hugging the telescope close to your chest, and raced home to set it up. 

Space was your dad’s thing, and he’d made it yours, too. Nights in the backyard with his very basic kit trained on the skies, stargazing maps in front of you, climbing on his lap to look through the viewfinder.

He taught you the major constellations, how to find planets visible in the night sky, explained how stars helped people navigate, long ago. 

Little did you know then how that information would come in handy years later, finding your way to the safety of the Jackson settlement with nothing else to guide you. 

Stargazing in the suburbs wasn’t ideal. Too much light pollution. In Jackson, though? Wide, open dark skies, far as the eye could see. 

Every time you watched the night sky, you looked out for your dad.

Cold, crisp, clear winter nights were your favourite time for stargazing. Bundled up in your warmest coat, hat, and blankets, you sat on your porch, telescope in front of you and an old Atlas of the Night Sky on your lap. Out of the corner of your eye, you became conscious of two people walking along the sidewalk past your home. Recent arrivals, you guessed, seeing as they weren’t familiar; a young girl, an older man. Father and daughter, probably.

“Whoa, dude. She’s got a fuckin’ real telescope!”

The girl had stopped to stare at you, eyes wide in astonishment. You offered a shy smile and a little wave, and were about to speak when the man interjected, beckoning the girl on with a frustrated tilt of his head.

“Mind your manners, Ellie. Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to disturb you. You have a good night.” He nods and you return the gesture, touched by his somewhat old-fashioned manners, and they walk on as you go back to seeking out Castor and Pollux.

Over the next couple of weeks, you learned that the man was Tommy’s older brother, Joel. His exact relationship to Ellie, the teenage girl, was not clear: she wasn’t his biological daughter, you suspected but Tommy tended to refer to her as “Joel’s kid”.

They tended to keep to themselves, for the most part. But she would peek in your direction if she spotted you at social events in the community, as if she was weighing up whether she should go and talk to you. No amount of friendly waves and smiles from you could ever convince her, it seemed.

You took matters into your own hands at the holiday tree lighting ceremony. You picked them out easily: Joel, big and broad in a sheepskin-lined winter coat, greying hair curling over the collar; Ellie, ponytail bobbing from side to side as she looked at the illuminated tree in absolute awe and wonder. 

“Joel and Ellie, right?” 

They turned to appraise you, still wary of new people. You held out the mugs of eggnog you’d grabbed for them on your way across the room. 

“Thought you might like some eggnog, and I wanted to introduce myself. I’m the telescope lady.”

Ellie’s eyes widened. “So cool,” she murmured, as if to herself.

Joel nodded and accepted the eggnog gratefully, the mug suddenly appearing doll-sized in his large hands. “Ellie’s got a thing for space, don’t you? Loves hearing about the space programs, the astronauts, all that.”

The teenager looked down at her shoes and blushed a little as she nodded. Apocalypse or not, teenage girls will always be embarrassed by their dads. 

Ellie took a sip of her eggnog. “How’d you get a fuckin’ telescope, anyway?” 

Joel scolded her, but you chuckled. “I found it in an old hobby store on a scavenging mission one time. I wasn’t gonna leave that behind, now was I?” She grinned at your conspiratorial wink, and Joel seemed to relax a little.

“Come over whenever you want, and I’ll give you a guided tour of the sky. We’ve got perfect conditions here for it.”

She beamed and turned to Joel, who shook his head softly. “We don’t want to be disturbing you, ma’am.” You corrected him with your name, and he repeated it, low and slow, in that warm, dark voice of his.

“I mean it, Joel. You are both very welcome to do some stargazing with me, whenever you’d like.”

“No fuckin’ WAY!”

Ellie tears into the kitchen on the morning of December 21, excitedly brandishing a piece of paper under Joel’s nose as he sips - or tries to sip - his morning coffee.

“Whatever it is, El, it’s far too early for this kind of excitement.”

“Look at it, dude!”

He rolls his eyes, puts down his mug, and looks at the piece of paper. It’s a handwritten invitation, decorated with drawings of celestial bodies and, at the bottom, a bright red telescope. He can’t help but chuckle as he reads the words aloud.

“Ellie (and Joel) are invited to a special winter solstice stargazing party tonight, December 21, at 6pm. Wrap up warm and be ready to see stars.” Underneath, you’ve carefully written your name and address in neat print.

By now, Ellie is positively bouncing with excitement. “The fuckin’ telescope! I’m gonna look through a fuckin’ telescope! At fuckin' SPACE!”

Joel’s heart swells as he takes in her sheer joy at the prospect of looking up into the heavens, knowing how hard everything has been for her, how much he has wanted to make her smile again. 

“Alright, but there’ll be no telescope if you don’t eat and get dressed for school. Go on, now.”

The telescope is already set up on your porch when they arrive later that evening, Joel carrying a flask of hot coffee and Ellie a tin with a few cookies - the best they could rustle up at short notice. 

“I’m so glad you came!” You beam at them as you open your front door, beckoning them inside. “I’ve got some snacks ready, and some hot punch.”

A smile creeps over Joel’s face as he realises you’re somehow playing a compilation of holiday music. Brenda Lee is singing about rocking around the Christmas tree, Ellie is nodding her head in time to the song as she makes a beeline for the bowls of snacks you’d set out, and he is struck by just how long it’s been since he’s experienced anything akin to “holiday cheer”.

“What the fuck does ‘rockin’ around a Christmas tree’ mean, anyways?”

Joel tuts and rolls his eyes. “Ellie. Language.”

You giggle as you hand Ellie a cup of non-alcoholic hot punch. “It’s fine, Joel. I think she means people are dancing around a Christmas tree, Ellie.”

Ellie looks sceptical. “Fuckin’ weird. Hey, when can we look at the stars?”

Joel lets you take the lead, as Jackson’s resident stargazer. He sits on one of your kitchen chairs, sipping from a mug of punch, watching you show Ellie how to navigate the night sky. 

The punch is warming in more ways than one. As Ellie bounded out to the porch earlier, you’d subtly held up a bottle of liquor at him and raised your eyebrows in a silent question, before adding a little to your and his mugs of punch once he’d nodded his assent. 

“See that really bright, orangey one there? That’s Betelgeuse. It’s a red supergiant.”

Ellie’s mouth hangs open as she squints through the telescope’s eyepiece. “Red supergiant,” she repeats. 

“See if you can find Orion’s Belt for yourself. It’s not too far away.”

You turn to Joel, checked blanket wrapped around your shoulders, and raise your mug towards him with a warm smile. “Happy holidays, Joel.”

He reciprocates the gesture, dark, warm eyes crinkling as a gentle, genuine smile spreads across his face. It might be the first time you’ve ever really seen him smile.

He looks to the heavens, taking in the perfect, pitch-dark blue-black carpet of a night sky embroidered with millions of twinkling stars. For an instant, he finds comfort in remembering that we all - everyone who is, who has ever been, and who will ever be - gaze up at the same firmament. 

General fic taglist: @agentjackdaniels, @julesonrecord , @tessa-quayle, @vermillionwinter , @iamskyereads , @tieronecrush , @perennialdoll247 , @love-the-abyss , @imaswellkid , @intheorangebedroom , @fuckyeahdindjarin , @littlemisspascal , @khindahra , @pedrostories , @readingiskeepingmegoing , @rhoorl , @red-red-rogue , @princessanglophile , @katareyoudrilling @survivingandenduring , @trulybetty @fictionismyreality @sunnywithachanceofjavi , @joeldjarin , @lahoozaherr, @s-u-t, @its-nebuleuse, @veryprairieberry (let me know if you'd rather not be tagged!)

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller jackson #the last of us fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us #ellie williams #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro pascal

[morallyinept]

A list of all my favourite PEDRO CHARACTER FESTIVE FIC RECS, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

PART 1 | PART 2 HERE | PART 3 HERE

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

Includes festive themed stories from previous years, as well as current. Will be added to as more are released.

Happy Reading! 🖤🎄

MIXED PEDRO BOYS MASTERLISTS:

12 Days Of XXX-Mas Stories Masterlist - @morallyinept

12 Days Of Pedro - @hellishjoel

Christmas Countdown - @pedroshotwifey

A Merry Fic-Mas - @ladamedusoif

12 Days Of Pedromas - @yeollie-plz

Pedro Pascal Advent Calendar - @softpascalito

Christmas Writing Challenge 2021 - @musings-of-a-rose

Winter Writing Challenge - @nobedofroses

December 500 - @trulybetty

8 Days Of Christmas 2022 - @guess-my-next-obsession

Christmas Writing Challenge 2023 - @pintsizemama

SINGULAR PEDRO BOY MASTERLISTS:

Dincember 2023 - @dindjarindiaries Din Djarin

Cowboycember 2023 - @anabdaniels Agent Whiskey

Daddycember 2023 - @whiskeynwriting Agent Whiskey

Holi-Dave Masterlist - @wildemaven Dave York

Domestic December - @clawdeewritesfanfic Dave York

DBF!Joel Miller Holiday Masterlist - @joelsgreys Joel Miller

It's Consent Season 2022 - @fuckyeahdindjarin Dieter Bravo

Single Dad Frankie Christmas Series - @pintsizemama Frankie Morales

DIETER BRAVO:

Sleazy Santa - @morallyinept

Sweet, Sweet Icing - @palioom

Baby, It's Cold Outside - @theywhowriteandknowthings

Jingle My Bells - @joels-shitty-puns

I Crawl Home To Her - @chronically-ghosted

We Fall Like Snow Series - @psychedelic-ink

JOEL MILLER:

Foot Prints - @sin-djarin

A Very Furby Christmas - @proxima-writes

Traditions - @mandoisapunk

'Tis The Damn Season - @jksprincess10

The Tree - @bluestar22x

All I Wanted - @fhatbhabie

I'll Be Home For Christmas - @punkshort

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus - @thetriumphantpanda

DAVE YORK:

Meet The Yorks - @foli-vora

Christmas Affair - @absurdthirst

FRANKIE MORALES:

A New Tradition With Frankie - @nerdieforpedro

Coming Under The Christmas Tree - @undercoverpena

Secret Santa - @frenchiereading

Candy Cane - @cerridwen007

JAVIER PEÑA:

That's what I Want For Christmas - @heythere-mel

Kiss Me Till I'm Warm - @chronically-ghosted

Home With You - @sp00kymulderr

DIN DJARIN:

A Slice Of Life Day - @linzels-blog

Mistletoe - @boliv-jenta

A Sprig Of Silver & Blue - @all-the-things-2020

Competing For Christmas - @something-tofightfor

MARCUS PIKE:

Our Last Christmas Series - @supernaturalgirl20

Where The Love Light Gleams Series - @themand0lorian

AGENT WHISKEY:

A Palomino Christmas - @fuckyeahdindjarin

MISC. CHARACTERS:

If Only In My Dreams - @mishasminion360 Zach Wellison

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #frankie morales x reader #dieter bravo x reader #javier pena x reader #marcus pike x readeer #agent whiskey x reader #dave york x reader #din djarin x reader #christmas stories #festive fic recs #jett's fic recs #fic recs

[harlowcomehome]

Merry FIC MAS. 🎄

This week I will have a post for every day of the week! This is the schedule. 🤭

Monday 12/11: Hazel and Jades new pet!

Tuesday 12/12: Surrogate series update!

Wednesday 12/13: Christmas card mix ups!

Thursday 12/14: Instagram AU

Friday 12/15: TBD 👀

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader

[i-wish-this-was-me]

Favorite fics part. 3

7. Alex Albon:

We'll take care of you (+GR) (smut)!

Hoodie szn (fluff)

Labyrinth (fluff)

Safe and sound (fluff)

Woah (fluff)

Sorry for the cat (fluff)

8. Arthur Leclerc:

Shut up and get Pt.1; Pt.2; Pt.3 (fluff)

Dim the lights (close your eyes) (fluff)

Keep you warm (fluff)

Him comforting reader (fluff)

9. Mick Schumacher:

More than a handful (fluff)

Diamonds (smut)

Am I clear? (smut)

Merry ruff-mas (smut)

You don't have to be gentle (smut)

I can't get no satisfaction (sweet smut) (no but this is so amazing I'm in love with this fic)

The devil is a fallen angel (fluff)

And When I'm Feeling Alone, You Remind Me Of Home (fluff)

Santa doesn't know you like I do (fluff)

Lego Schumacher (fluff)

"He started it!" (fluff)

10. Daniel Ricciardo:

Brother's best friend (fluff)

Punishment (smut)

Him giving head (smut)

Him taking your virginity (smut)

Something watchful (something jealous) (smut)

Last few pages (smut)

Heat (+MV) (smut)

Face sitting (smut)

Stress reliever (smut)

Nsfw alphabet (smut)

Break the chain (smut) (holy shit this is so good)

"Oh really? Can't breath?" (smut) (damnnn)

No touching (smut) (again.... damnnnn)

Thighs tattoo (smut)

"You missed the good part" (smut)!

First time (sweet smut)

Beard burn (suggestive)

Spoiling (fluff)

Possessive and obsessive (fluff)

Dates (fluff)

Little adventures (fluff)

Naps and cuddles (fluff)

11. Sebastian Vettle:

A professional interview (fluff) (this series is so good, if you didn't read it you need to right now)

Touch my body (smut)

Corruption (teacher!seb) (smut)

Scream! (smut)

Clandestine (smut)

No such thing as I can't (+JB) (smut)

I'd rather take my time (smut)

Something wagered (+JB) (smut)

Kiss kiss bang bang (smut)

Pride & ego (smut)

Something reunited (+MW) (smut)

Reader being insecure about her thighs (suggestive)

Sneaking around with Horner's daughter (suggestive)

Back home (a little bit suggestive)

Stay with me (fluff)

Sugar daddy (smut and fluff)

Look at her (fluff)

A man after midnight (fluff)

Dilf (fluff)

12. George Russle:

All of you (smut)

A helping hand (smut)

A helping hand Part.1; Part.2; Part.3 (smut)

We are not just friends and you know it (smut)

Without my permission (smut)

What a memorable N.Y.E (+FA) (smut)

We'll take care of you (+AB) (smut)!

Across the hall Part. 1; Part. 2 (1. fluff, 2 smut)

I think he knows (fluff)

Gust of wind (fluff)

One bed (fluff)

13. Kimi Raikkonen:

Him using ice (smut)

Only the best for you (smut)

Reader gets injured (fluff)

Spoken admiration (fluff)

Protective shield (fluff)

14. Marcus Armstrong:

Careful daughter (fluff)

Sidewalk rule (fluff)

15. Lewis Hamilton:

Please (smut)

Don't give me that look (smut)

Cry little girl (smut)

Skin and bones (smut)

Keys to the benz (suggstive)

Promise (fluff)

Sleepwalker (fluff)

MASTERLIST

[thatgayb1tchwhosimps4her]

Harlow's X-mas Fic Extravaganza Day 2/3

Summary: Reader's first Christmas with Jackie away from New Jersey, and her asshole mother (Ms Taylor slander is welcome!!), with a surprise or two along the way ;)

@zhivaxo

*****

Santa Baby

💖Jackie Taylor x GN(kinda)/AFAB Sadecki!Reader💖

Word Count: 1797.

Oh and also, there's a little bit of this sprinkled in there too, so yeah, you're welcome.

*****

"Is this alright?" Jeff asked, one hand on the star at the top of the Christmas tree, the other on the top of the step ladder he'd brought to help you and Jackie out with holiday decorations.

"Mmmmm, a little to the left." Jackie replied, pushing herself off the kitchen island, before going over and sitting on the armchair behind you, while sipping from her mug of eggnog, and while you were wrapping presents on the floor in front of her.

"Now?" He questioned after moving it to the left.

"Perfect." You both stated, looking up at the pink tree in all its glory.

"Still don't understand why you guys didn't stick to the traditional green tree." Jeff said, climbing down from the ladder, leaning it and himself against the wall opposite the pair of you.

"Cause most traditions are boring." You started, going back to your wrapping.

"Plus green trees remind us of our shitty childhoods." Jackie finished, putting her mug down and resting her hand on your shoulder while readjusting in her chair, draping her legs over one of the armrests.

"Preach." You and Jeff agreed, doing your signature (cringey in most people's opinion) 'Sadecki Sibling Handshake', while admiring Jeff's handy work on the pink tree; Decorated with silver tinsel, fake snow, white turned-off fairy lights, rose gold baubles, and a gold star.

'The more minimalist, the better', Jackie had said, which of course counted as getting a pink tree.

"Alright, I'm out." Jeff said, lifting his arm up to check his watch, and pulling on his jacket, "I've still got Christmas presents to buy for mom and dad, and a turkey to buy."

"Love you both, platonically, lots, and will call you tomorrow. Merry Christmas to all, and to all- ah fuck it, adios bitches." He rambled, pulling the ladder over his shoulder, and exiting the apartment.

"Bye Jeff!" You both called out, not looking away from the tree as the door slammed shut.

"Why did we get a pink tree?" You inquired, tilting your head back to look up at her, after finishing wrapping Shauna's present.

"Didn't you say the other day I was always right?" Jackie smirked, running her nail over your jawline.

"Mmmmmm, true, yeah that's true, I did say that, cause you are." You stated, leaning up and kissing her plush, pink-glossed lips softly.

"Mmmm," She moaned softly against your lips before pulling away slightly. "Cmon, I've got a surprise for you." The blonde added.

"Oh?" You stated, watching her get up from her chair, putting her cup on the kitchen island, and walking past the tree to your bedroom, following behind her.

"Oh." You repeated, watching her pull out a perfectly wrapped box with a red bow on top, out from her closet, walking over to you.

"Merry Christmas, my love." Jackie stated, leaning up and pressing a kiss on the crook of your jaw, before handing you the package, and sitting down at the end of the bed.

"Merry Christmas, Jax." You returned, sitting criss-crossed next to her, setting the box between the two of you.

You slowly slipped the ribbon off the sides, putting it on the floor, then running your fingers under the gap were each side of the wrapping paper met, ripping it open, to reveal a cardboard box underneath.

Jackie watched you eagerly, as you threw the wrapping paper onto the floor, then grabbed a pair of tweezers off your side table, then running them along the dent of the parcel tape, before putting them back on the side and opening up the box, pulling the contents out of it.

"Oh baby." You stated, sultrily, pulling out each object. A Santa hat, red suspenders, puffy red silk Santa trousers with a black belt, and then you layed eyes on it.

Around 6 and a half inches, maybe 7, slightly bent, and cherry red.

"Did you really get me a strap and Santa get-up as an early present?" You questioned, glancing up at her, running your thumb over the subtle bumps of the silicone strap in your hands.

"Do you like it? I wasn't exactly sure how any of it worked, probably looked like a baby gay looking around the store at all of them, bu-"

"It's perfect," You said, cutting her off by pressing a kiss against her lips, still running your thumb along the dildo. "So I'm guessing you, what, want me to put this on, n'let Santa give you a special reward for being a good girl and staying on the nice list this year or something?"

"Mmmmm, yeah, something like that." She said, wrapping her arms around your waist, resting her chin on your chest, looking up at you with a slight smirk playing on her lips.

"Wha- what now?!" You exclaimed, raising your eyebrows and looking down at her with wide eyes, trying to process what she's hinting at.

"Mmmmmm, yeeeah, maybe. I mean we don't have to, but I thought it'd be a good idea. Then that way I'll actually be asleep before Santa comes." Jackie reasoned, assisting her reasoning with her hands.

"God you're insane, but fucking twist my arm, let's do it." You stated, as a wide grin pulled its way on Jackie's lips, while she assisted you in pulling the rest of the items out of the box, and unfolding the trousers, laying them all out on the end of the bed.

"Oh this'll be fun." You stated, pulling a red silver bullet vibe out of the box, looking over at Jackie who was know sitting up against the headboard, and gulped slightly, before you starting putting the Santa pants on.

"I kinda forgot I bought that." Jackie said sheepishly, while scratching the back of her neck, as you finished securing the suspenders to the belt, picking up the leather straps of the strap-on, starting to put them on around your thigh.

"Well I'm glad you forgot. That look on your face just now was priceless." You joked, as you finishing donning the straps around your hips, before attaching the dildo to the holster, and pulling the Santa hat on your head, and crawling up to her, pressing another kiss on her lips.

"Totally knew this was gonna look hot." The blonde proudly stated, running her thumb along your hips and over the leather of the straps and the belt.

"Yeah okay, I'll admit you have good taste in get ups." You said, trailing your hands down to her baby pink shorts, pulling them down her legs and off her ankles, throwing them onto the floor.

"You're so pretty, Jackie." You praised, running your thumbs along her inner thighs, while repeatedly pressing wet kisses down her neck.

"God, this is so much better then I thought it was gonna be." Jackie uttered out and moaned breathlessly, tilting her head back against the headboard, and gripping your sides slightly.

"Hmm." You hummed softly in response, using your thumb to fiddle with the thin lace of her pink panties, before also pulling them down her legs, discarding them onto the heap of both your clothes.

'God damn Jackie and her adorable love and obsession for the colour pink.'

"Oh baby, you look so perfect for me, darling." You marvelled, running your thumb over her clit, earning a whine from the blonde.

"Fuck you're so good at this." Jackie moaned out, moving her hands to grip the hair on the back of your head, trying to push it down to her pussy.

You dipped your head, guided by Jackie's hand, down to her throbbing core, licking a strip along it, eliciting a long, low whine from the girl; 'God she's so pretty when she makes noises like that'.

You shuffled down to wrap your hands around the backs of her thighs, holding on to, and tracing the tips of your nails over them, causing Jackie to shiver slightly, before you started trailing tight circles around her clit with your tongue, sucking on it occasionally, making the blonde move her hands to the back of your head, tugging on your hair tightly.

"God-! You're fucking mommy so good, baby." Jackie whimpering out slightly, tugging your hair slightly harder, as the praise goes straight to your head, causing you to flick your tongue over her clit faster.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God-" The blonde kept breathily repeating, moaning and whining out softly, gripping the roots of your hair tighter, before uttering out quietly with a whimper.

"Oh fuck, baby-! You're gonna make mommy cum, baby."

"Cum for me mommy." You mumbled against her clit, lapping your tongue against and biting on it, tugging it between your teeth, sucking on it, sending her over the edge, hurtling into an orgasm with a harsh scream.

You kept flicking your tongue over her clit, prolonging her orgasm, until her heavy pants subsided and she closed her thighs around your head with a whine, making you pull away from her bundle of nerves, and lean up to kiss her lips softly.

"You're so pretty, mommy." You muttered softly against her lips, laying yourself against her chest for a moment, as she giggled out softly at the taste of her cum on your mouth.

"Thank you, sweet thing. You wanna go again?" Jackie asked, running her nails over your scalp, causing a small grin to pull at your lips, and you to push yourself up from her chest and kneel between her legs.

You positioned the strap at her entrance, before leaning forward and pressing another kiss against Jackie's lips, pushing the silicone toy inside her, soaking it in her slick, eliciting a low whine from the girl.

"God you're so pretty, Jax." You moaned, placing your hands on either side of her body, hovering over her slightly, while building a steady pace of your thrusts inside her.

"So gorgeous for me, mommy." You breathed out, building up your pace, thrusting in and out of her faster, running your thumbs over her hips.

"Fucking hell-!" The blonde moaned out, gripping the roots of your hair tighter then ever, throwing her head further back against the mattress, whining out loudly.

"Fuck, mommy, you that close again already."

"I- hmm hmm, f-uck, baby- I'm gonna cum!" She whimpered out.

"Oh mommy, you're so pretty like this- fuck, cum for me mommy." You stuttered out, hammering your hips against hers, causing her to release all over your silicone cock with a loud, high-pitched moan.

"Fucking hell," The blonde uttered out after coming down from her high a few moments later. "I should get you to do more often."

"You're such a dork," You chuckled, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against her lips. "I love you." You added.

"I love you too." Jackie replied, breathily.

*****

Wow okay, so this was honestly kinda lowkey a birthday treat for me, but I hope it was up to your guys' expectations/standards anyway.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!

Love you guys and see you in the next one.

-Harlow

*****

P.S: Also bonus gif, CAUSE LOOK AT HOW CUTE SHE IS!!!

Poor baby, had no idea wtf was going on, BUT LOOK AT THE FACE!!

#and before anyone says anything #yes i do believe that Jackie still believes in Santa #and no i'm not gonna ruin that for her #cause she deserves happiness #fight me #Harlow (Lottie's Version) #harlow speaks 🦒 #Harlow's X-mas Extravaganza 2023 #yellowjackets #original content #mine not yours #jackie taylor #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor smut