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#12 days of fics
marvelobsessed134 · 5 months
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Santa baby
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This is part of my 12 days of fics
Pairings: Dom!Kate Bishop x Sub!Reader
Warnings: G!P Kate, daddy kink, breeding kink, degradation (I think), lingerie, size kink.
Summary: In which your wife breeds you on Christmas Eve
It was Christmas Eve and you and Kate just got back from the annual Avengers Christmas party. The two of you were all over each other as soon as you got through the door of your shared apartment.
You clung onto her suit jacket as she backed you against the wall, grinding her hard on against you. You moaned and rolled your eyes back at the friction.
The archers grip on you gets harder as she furiously sucks on your neck leaving a hickey in its place. You moaned, taking her jacket in your hands before throwing it off of her.
She began to unbutton her dress shirt while you unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor. Her eyes widened at the dark green lingerie set you were wearing.
You chuckled, “Merry Christmas, daddy.”
“Fuck, Y/n.” she groaned, feeling her cock strain against her pants.
You put both your arms on her shoulders, looking down at her breasts before looking into her eyes, “I want you to breed me tonight, Kate. Want to have your babies. Please.”
“Oh honey, don’t worry. You’ll have my babies.” She picked you and carried you towards the bedroom while the two of you continued to make out.
The raven haired girl laid you down on the bed, unbuckling her pants and pulling them and her boxers down.
You watched her cock spring out, licking your lips ever so slightly.
Kate pumped it a few times before saying, “Come on your knees baby girl.” You immediately scrambled into position. She admired the way the lace adorned your body.
“Go ahead and suck my cock pretty girl.” You wrapped your mouth around the tip and began to suck, sinking deeper and deeper. She moaned, grabbing your head and fucking your mouth.
“So good for me. Such a good cock sucker.”
You felt her length move in and out of your tight little mouth. Finally, she pulled you off of her.
“Lay back down again sweet heart.” You did as she said, and she pulled down the cups of your bra, tweaking and biting your perky nipples. You arched your back into her mouth, feeling at bliss.
Her hands traveled down south, her fingers getting ahold of your panties before pulling them down. She smirked when she saw how wet you were.
“This wet? Just from sucking dick?” She teased. You were whimpering feeling the cool air on your core.
Her fingers teased your entrance before plunging into you, fucking you at a fast pace.
“Oh daddy!” You moaned.
“Yeah, you like that? You like my fingers in your tight, little hole?”
“Yes! Yes daddy I love it!” You cried as she rubbed your clit fast with her thumb. You felt overstimulated and squirted all over her fingers.
“Fuck, such a good girl. All fours come on.” You got on your hands and knees facing the headboard.
Kate came up behind you and teased your entrance once again, except this time with her cock. “You could barely take my fingers, princess. I don’t know if you’ll be able to take my cock.”
“Please! Please!” You begged and she turned your head towards her. “What is it, pretty girl? Do you think this tiny pussy can take my dick?”
“Yes! Please daddy I- fuck me so hard you have to carry me Christmas morning!”
“That’s more like it sweet thing.” The archer guided her cock into your core and thrusted into you.
“Fuck, so fucking tight. Such a good little wife. All for me huh?”
“Yes daddy, all for you.” She continued to fuck into you, gripping your hips as she sped up the pace.
“Gonna cum and breed you deep inside. Gonna get you pregnant.” Kate growled, snapping her hips against your ass.
“Please daddy! Wanna get pregnant so bad! Want you to breed me and make me yours!”
“Fuck honey-“ she cut herself off when you clenched around her, causing her to also cum.
She spilled her finish inside you, you moaned when you felt her paint your walls.
“Good girl. Fuck, this is the best Christmas Eve ever.”
“Mmm it was.” You moaned, grabbing her face and kissing her on the lips.
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msmoony7 · 4 months
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Ice Skating with Sirius Black
Summary: you and Sirius go ice skating on the great lake (fluff)
Word Count: 360
12 days of fics
masterlist
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“Ahh!” you shout as you tumble down onto the cold ice. You look around and see Sirius hunched over laughing at you on the other side of the lake. He skates over to you with ease and helps you to your feet.
“You know,” he starts, “you’re supposed to stay on your feet, not your bum.”
You stare daggers into him and he slowly starts to back away from you with his hands held up in the air.
“Wait, come back! I can’t go more than two feet without falling.”
He comes back and grabs your hand, trying to help you forward. You make it about five feet this time before falling again.
“Wow, you really are bad at this,” Sirius chuckles while he helps you up once more, dusting the ice off your clothes.
“I’m not bad at this,” you contest, “you’re just abnormally good at this. How are you so good at this?”
“Remus, James, and I go skating here every year. Plus I’m just good at everything I do,” he replies with a smile. He’s not wrong. That man is good at everything he does. 
“Grab my hands,” he says.
You grab them and he stands facing you, helping you forwards. 
You slowly start to get the hang of it with his help. He moves next to you and is now only holding onto one of your hands.
You finally make one lap around the lake with his help and he lets go of your hand to cheer for you. In your excitement, you lose your balance once more and begin to fall over. He runs in to try and keep you up but fails as you end up falling on top of him.
“You can skate backwards and I can’t even stay on my feet for more than a minute,” you huff while still laying on top of him, burying your head onto his chest.
“Sorry, love. We can’t all be good at everything we do,” he says with a smile as he pulls your chin up and leaves a soft kiss on your lips. “C’mon, let’s go get you some butterbeer to cheer you up.”
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ellemj · 4 months
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Inevitable: 12 Days of Smut #9
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: While on a mission with Sam, John Walker, and Bucky, you're the only person exposed to a sex pollen. Bucky sure as hell isn't going to let anyone else take care of you.
Warnings: profanity, dubcon (sex pollen), unprotected sex, slight size kink, slight exhibitionism, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: I wrote this fic in an hour and I think it shows lmao. Hopefully tomorrow I can use another one of @mashedpotatooooos inspiring requests, because she sent me one I've been thinking about for days now.
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            You want someone to blame. You want someone to yell at, someone that you can rightfully take all of your anger out on. You want to be able to point your finger and stomp your feet like a child all because this is someone else’s fault. Who do you take your anger out on when an entire organization is to blame? No one. Instead, you do exactly what you’re doing now, which is sitting on the dirty floor with your knees pulled up to your chest as you try to come up with a plan. You’re the only one that was exposed, the only one that’s about to go through physiological and psychological hell. Sam and John Walker were still securing the perimeter of the compound when you stupidly ran your fingertip along the fine powdery substance that was sprinkled along the walls and floor of the small holding cell. It was even more stupid of you to rub the powder together between your thumb and forefinger before sniffing it for any trace of a scent. As soon as you inhaled the microscopic particles, you let out a cough, your throat immediately feeling scratchy. Bucky was behind you in an instant, grabbing you by the elbow and tugging you away from the holding cell. When his eyes fell to your hand and he saw the white powder along your fingertips, he knew you’d gotten yourself into some serious shit. Before he even had a chance to alert Sam and Walker via comms, you were placing your clean hand on his chest and shoving him away from you hard. He stumbled backward two steps, but kept his eyes trained on your face. Your cheeks were pink, which he assumed was from the small coughing fit you’d just had, but having no idea what you were exposed to, it could’ve been from whatever drug it was that HYDRA left all over the surface of that holding cell. How could you have been so reckless?
            You sit with your head resting on your knees and your eyes squeezed shut, trying to drown out the incessant voice of John Walker. He’s been going on and on for over a minute now about what he thinks is the best way to handle the little predicament you’ve found yourselves in.
            “We don’t even know what she was exposed to, Sam. You and Bucky should stay here and finish the mission, I’ll take her back to the quinjet and see if we can figure this out. There has to be some sort of testing equipment or something there.” Of course, Walker wants to leave with you. Bucky catches himself clenching his right fist, while his left hand rests dangerously close to where his knife is sheathed along the side of his tactical pants. Bucky isn’t letting Walker do shit with you.
            “I’m not going anywhere.” You say defiantly, finally picking your head up and looking at the three men who are maintaining their distance from you. You threatened to lock yourself in the contaminated holding cell if they didn’t stay at least ten feet away from you, so that’s about how far they all are from you now. “He’s right, we don’t know what I was exposed to, but I’m not leaving this building until we find out what it was.” It’s the smartest thing you can do. For all you know, it could be some sort of biological warfare shit and you’re not about to go down in history as patient X. You’re staying put.
---
            It’s less than fifteen minutes later when the symptoms have begun to set in and you’re actually considering locking yourself in the holding cell. It started out almost unnoticeable, with your heart rate steadily increasing and your body temperature rising to an uncomfortable degree. You chalked it up to being nervous about whatever unknown substance might be coursing through your veins. Soon after, all you wanted was to take your clothes off and soak in an ice bath. This was partially because of the sheer heat your body was radiating from the inside out, but also because you felt some kind of surge of adrenaline making you feel like you could run fifteen miles with ease.
            “She isn’t herself, she’s definitely feeling something but she’s not going to let any of us get close enough to look her over.” Sam says to Bruce, who’s currently seated in a SHIELD laboratory, searching through various HYDRA experiment files to figure out what substance you might’ve been exposed to.
            “Well, one of you is going to have to try, because without knowing the basics of at least a physical exam, I can’t rule any of these compounds out. It’s a guessing game without more information.”
            “I’ll do it. She’ll let me.” Walker’s confidence nearly makes Bucky and Sam both burst out laughing.
            “Who the hell do you think you are, man? She isn’t going to let you do shit.” Sam chuckles, looking at Walker out of the corner of his eye. Walker scoffs and shakes his head, clearly disagreeing with Sam.
            “C’mon, she can be reasonable.” Walker argues. Of course you can be reasonable, you’re almost always reasonable. But this more than likely isn’t one of the almost-always instances, and if Walker really thinks Bucky is going to let him do any sort of physical exam on you, he’s sorely mistaken.
            “I’ll do it. I was right behind her when she was exposed, she knows it’s possible I was exposed too. More possible than either of you having been exposed.” Bucky points out, shooting Walker a death glare before he has a moment to argue. Walker quickly shuts his mouth and remains still in the corridor. The three men stepped out of the small abandoned surveillance room when you started acting like every word they were saying was making your head hurt. Now, Bucky turns around and faces the door, ready to approach you.
            “Just look her skin over everywhere you can, look for any rashes, discolorations, new wounds. Try to get a look at her pupils too, I need to know if they’re bigger than usual or smaller, like pinpoints. Anything you notice that’s out of the ordinary, I need to know about it so I can narrow down the type of chemical it might be.” Bruce’s words echo in the concrete corridor as Bucky palms the door handle and pulls it open with a soft creak.
            As soon as the door shuts behind Bucky, your eyes meet. He can see how uncomfortable you are, how a few stray strands of your hair are sticking to your forehead, how you’re breathing heavier than normal even though you still sit on the floor. It tugs at something within him and suddenly he wishes he was the one who’d walked into that damn holding cell first. Why the hell did he let you go in first? He should’ve been looking out for you.
            “Bruce needs a few questions answered so he can figure out what you were exposed to.” Bucky tries to keep his sentence short and to the point. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you and give you a reason to kick him out, so he’s treading carefully. He’s honestly surprised that you haven’t told him to leave yet. As his eyes roam over your small frame, he can see that you’re miserable. At this point, you’re too miserable to argue with him. You simply nod, agreeing to whatever it is that Bruce wants him to do. Bucky tilts his head over to an empty metal desk pushed up against a side wall, and you quickly understand that he wants you to sit on it so he can get a look at you. You push yourself up off of the floor slowly, knowing you won’t be very steady on your feet. Not only are you beginning to feel lightheaded, but it feels like every nerve ending in your entire body is on fire. Your skin is simultaneously freezing cold while being burning hot, and there’s a sharp, stinging pain somewhere deep in your stomach.
            Noticing how unsteady you are, Bucky moves across the room wraps an arm around you, guiding you over to the desk. After helping you sit on top of it, he can’t stop himself from pushing those few stray hairs away from your face and cupping your chin with his right hand. You feel hot to the touch, definitely feverish. Your eyes flutter closed as you focus on the feel of his skin against your chin, but Bucky believes it to be a reaction to whatever pain you’re feeling right now. He notes that your pupils looked much bigger than normal before you closed your eyes. He also notes that your cheeks are flushed, your heart is beating so hard that he can nearly count your pulse rate where the skin lies over your carotid artery in your neck, and you’re keeping one hand on your lower stomach.
            “Do you have any spots, anything on your skin?” Bucky’s voice is quiet, but he keeps his hand underneath your chin. It almost feels like you’re leaning into his touch, though he can’t be sure. You finally open your eyes again and look up at him. You’re ready to say something like I don’t fucking know, I’m in full tactical gear, but speaking a sentence that long feels like way too much effort right now. So, instead, you pull your shirt off and drop it on the floor. Bucky averts his gaze instantly, not wanting to be intrusive and look at you with only a bra covering your top half.
            “You have to check, Bucky. The lights are killing me.” Your words come out as a meek whisper. Of course the lights are killing you, your pupils are so blown that they’re letting in every tiny bit of light. When the super soldier finally looks back down at you, his jaw clenches as his eyes coast over your bare neck, shoulders, and the central part of your chest. He doesn’t see a single imperfection. He looks further down your torso, past your black sports bra, over the contours of your waist and abdomen. Nothing. Nothing but smooth, perfect skin, slightly glistening with a sheen of sweat. “I think I know what this is.”
            “How?” Bucky’s eyes lift to meet your gaze once again, but this time, you look more conflicted than uncomfortable.
            “Touch me.” Bucky has a million questions. He wants to know what you think this is, why you want him to touch you. He’s ready to ask every question that’s swirling around his head, and you can see that he sure as hell isn’t about to touch you on his own accord, so you take matters into your own hands. It’s the quickest way you can think of to prove that your assumption is correct. You reach out and take his flesh hand in yours, guiding it up to your face and pressing his palm flat against your cheek. A soft whimper leaves your lips as soon as you feel the warmth from his contact. Bucky stiffens, but doesn’t pull his hand away from you.
            “What is it?” He demands to know.
            “HYDRA was experimenting with ways to produce more super soldiers without needing great amounts of the original serum. They thought they could get super soldiers to breed, to produce offspring with all of the same strengths and abilities.” It takes a few seconds for Bucky’s mind to wrap around exactly what you’re saying, but as soon as it does, he’s already made a choice. He’ll help you. He’ll do it. He’ll do what he knows needs to be done to give you as much relief as he possibly can. There isn’t another word spoken between the two of you as Bucky steps away from you and crosses the room, turning the lock on the door.
            Out in the corridor, Sam and Walker hear the door lock and look at each other with a mix of confusion and concern.
            “One of them just locked the door.” Sam says to Bruce. Bruce sighs heavily before taking a long pause. “Bruce, what the hell is this?”
            “You’re in a facility where HYDRA scientists would induce super soldier reproduction. I’m guessing Y/n and Bucky have figured that out.”
---
            The desk won’t hold the weight of you both, Bucky’s damn sure of that. Which is why he has you lying on your back with your legs dangling off of it as he stands between your legs and unbuckles his tactical pants.
            “You don’t have to do this, Bucky. I could—”
            “You said it’s the only way, and I’m sure as hell not letting Sam or Walker do it, so I’m doing it.” Bucky snaps, shoving his pants down enough to free his already hardening cock. He’s lucky you’re in such a miserable state right now, otherwise you might’ve sat up and tried to sneak a peek at his dick and noticed how it already stood erect for you. He wasn’t getting off on you being in such a bad situation, but as soon as you told him that you needed someone to do this for you, his cock decided it was going to him. He wraps his fist around the base and strokes forward, toward the tip a couple of times as he watches you shimmy your own pants down your legs. You have them nearly down to your knees when you let out a cry of pain, quickly letting go of the pants and clutching at your stomach. Your eyes are still screwed shut as Bucky finishes pulling your pants down to your ankles and then gets you into the only position he can think of in this moment. He lifts both of your legs up, keeping them together, and rests them over his right shoulder. He’s careful not to even give himself the chance to look between your legs. He won’t do it, not like this. He stares down at your scrunched up face as he moves closer to you and lets the head of his cock slide up and down between your folds, gathering your wetness along his shaft.
            “Bucky, please.” You moan out, your back arching off of the desk and eyes opening to look up at him. When the two of you make eye contact, the head of his cock notches into your entrance and he pumps into you slowly. “Fuck, it’s so big.”
            Fucking hell. Why did you have to say something like that? Bucky stills when he’s only halfway inside you, feeling how tight you are compared to how thick his length is. He knows it must be hurting you, but you continue to stare up at him, with both pain and pleasure flashing in your eyes.
            “Don’t stop, I can take it.” You promise. Bucky’s hands grip your hips and he gives you another inch, watching how your face contorts at the way he’s stretching your entrance.
            “Stop saying shit like that.” He warns you through gritted teeth. That’s the moment you realize Bucky might have a bit of a size kink. It’s not at all where your head should be at right now. You should be focused on finding relief and getting this chemical out of your system as fast as possible. But, something within you tells you to keep going.
            “But it’s so fucking big.” You moan again, trying to relax as he pushes the rest of his length inside of you. The needy sound that rips through your chest when he bottoms out inside of you echoes in the empty room, and Bucky has no doubt that Sam and Walker both heard it. A dark idea enters his mind as he slowly drags his cock back out of you. John fucking Walker. He’s been after you since day one, that little prick. This could be Bucky’s only chance to show him that he’ll never have you, especially not like this. Like you would possibly give Walker a chance after being fucked by Bucky. Instead of thrusting into you slowly this time, giving you ample time to adjust, Bucky slams into you hard. “Fuck! Bucky, it’s too big, oh my god.” You cry out.
            Sam and Walker are frozen in shock as they stand in the corridor, listening to the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and you moaning about how big Bucky’s cock is as you take every inch of it. As soon as Bucky let out his first grunt, Sam couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed Walker by the front of his shirt and dragged him out of the building.
            “This is fucking bullshit, Sam. This is so unprofessional.” Walker whines, wanting nothing more than to storm back in and rip Bucky off of you.
            “Shut the hell up, John. We know you think you’re hot shit, but honestly, she was never going to give you a chance. It was always going to happen this way.”
            “What do you mean? You knew this was going to happen?” Walker asks, unable to hide the anger edging his tone.
            “I didn’t know it’d be in an abandoned HYDRA lab or within my own earshot, but yeah, everyone knew they were going to fuck eventually.”
            Not only did the two of you fuck, but Bucky made sure to spill every drop of his cum so deep inside of you that it’d be dripping out into your tactical pants for the rest of the mission.
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kiwisbell · 4 months
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let it snow [joel miller]
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It's cold on the trail. Joel keeps you warm.
12 days of pedro masterlist | my masterlist
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
rating: 18+ (mdni)
tags/warnings: an early winter smattering of daddy kink, feel free to picture game!joel or show!joel here, post-outbreak, jackson!joel, christmastime fuzzies, soft old man!joel, self-indulgent age gap (20s/50s), protective!joel, christmas tree hunting, hiking, sex in an apocalypse, snowball play(?), fingering, frostbite does not exist in this universe, thigh fucking, dirty talk, ellie loving dinosaurs, snowball fights, a joel who enjoys what little peace life brings him
word count: ~ 5.3k
read on ao3!
a/n: hi, lovelies - this fic is my contribution to @hellishjoel's 12 days of pedro celebration! everyone please check out the masterlist linked above to check out the other works from all of these amazing authors!! thank you endlessly to my parents @northernbluess and @tieronecrush for beta'ing this fic and reassuring me every step of the way - i love you both to the moon and back. i hope you enjoy and as usual, please mind the tags and please tell me what you think!! ❄️
super cute dividers by @saradika-graphics!!
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Fall comes on slow. The leaves begin to bleed orange from the arteries. The air crackles with bright, cold wind that bites and pokes. Debris crunches underfoot and the trees shed their lustrous coats. It’s nothing like the onset of winter in Jackson—the downward crash of an overnight snowstorm that crests too quickly for the residents to prepare. 
It's a crystallised, overrefined flurry of soft flakes that gather on thatched rooftops and bury the barren, browning garden beds in the western corner of the village. It’s a nighttime assault of gnashing wind carrying fractals of ice and snow, and before most are awake, Jackson is snowed in.
The children are thrilled. All of them too small to have known anything but the walls of the town, they burst from their homes, half-zipped coats and bright-and-early tummy-rumblings and wondrous impatience, to stick out their tongue and catch the still-falling snowflakes. Parents and caretakers and teachers straggle, still pulling on their own boots and coats, in the effort to stay close to their charges. Snowballs are packed together and hurled from behind fortified walls of snow; passers-by are pulled unwittingly into the two-sided, relentless barrage; and the shrieks and cries crackling into the dead white air are born from the watery womb of promise, not terror.
There’s some joy yet to be found in this world. 
He isn’t participating in the frozen-water war, but he’s watching from the margins, leaning against the wall of the schoolhouse with his arms folded over his chest and his eyes hawklike as he observes your every move.
A group of young girls has inducted you into the battle and now you’re hiding with one of them behind a wall, packing a tight ball of snow in your hands, barely protected by your threadbare gloves. He can see the grip of the cold on your body, the way your breath circles above your head, a silvery halo. He can see the slight shivers that start in your lower spine and tremble their way up to the back of your neck, and he can see the phantom imprint of his hand resting there, warming your nape, curling his callused fingers around your brain stem and guiding you the way he liked. He can see your gentle touch not only in your hands but in your smile, in the soft application of snow to the top of the wall as it begins to melt, in the sweet curl of your mouth as you help a child who has fallen to their feet. 
Swiping an accumulation of snow from the child’s nose with your thumb, you mouth some words he cannot see. The child sniffs happily and wraps their arms around their mother’s leg. 
You sneak away from the barrage of snowballs and blow some warm air into your cupped hands. He shifts off the wall and begins to prowl toward you. 
When he’s close enough, when no one is around nor awake enough to notice, pulls you into the alley between the schoolhouse and the theatre.
His mouth captures your surprised exhale, stealing the visible puff of warm air for himself, swallowing it down as he pries you open for him. His hand rediscovers the slow, warm pleasure of its resting place on the back of your neck, gently steering you, unkindly pinning your body to the wall. 
He feels the itch of your gloves as you cup his face, and his other hand lifts to circle around both of your wrists, idly pressing them beneath his heavy coat, against his heart. It thuds strongly, pouring its rhythm into the grooves of your palms. 
He crowds you, making you small, his desire for this closeness prodding your inner thigh. You go oh-so easily, the gruff sounds he spills into your mouth tapping, chiselling, knocking down each vertebrae. Carefully, with the slide of his warm, wet tongue along yours and the greedy assault of his mouth, he shapes you for himself and turns you into the pliant little thing he needs you to be. 
You moan softly into his mouth, and his answering groan is something rabid. Your spine curves to him, gravitational pull, wooden slats of the building at your back tugging the fabric of your coat. He will kiss you until you’re breathless and preening under his touch because it’s what he always does. He will inculcate you with the knowledge that you’re for his eyes only. 
When he pulls away, he watches you chase his mouth with lidded eyes and kiss-bruised lips, and he smirks. His hand moves to your head, gently smoothing down your crown to your jaw, the way one tenderly pets a kitten. 
“Got you somethin’.”
You raise your brows. “You did?”
“Mhm.” He nudges his nose against yours and relishes the smile you give him—eyes crinkling at the corners, irises reflecting glistening sky. “Open your mouth for me first. Go on, now.”
You obey, letting your tongue loll out, more from habit than anything. Still, he’s pleased, unfurling the hastily-wrapped paper package in his pocket and placing the small square of chocolate on your tongue. 
You close your mouth with the help of his hand on your jaw, and the gentle snap of the chocolate bleeds the melting centre down your throat, disseminating the oaky flavour on your tastebuds. 
“Y’like it?”
His voice is a carving knife. You're split down the middle by his simple show of affection, spilling out into his arms, wrists still clasped in one of his big hands. 
“It’s good,” you tell him. “I’ve never…”
His smile digs a thumb into your open wound. “I know. Took it from the kitchen.”
You lick your lips and swallow the rest of the melted chocolate. Joel watches the action from the moment your tongue darts out to the moment it retreats. “Maria will have your ass.”
“Hmm, Maria can tell me off much as she wants. Wanted to give you somethin' sweet.” He presses in closer, hands dropping to your hips, kneading the pad of his thumbs over your hips. You're wearing old jeans whose waistband is fraying. “What do you say?”
This is the fun part of the game you play. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, teasing, begging entrance even though he knows there isn't a world in which you would deny him. You part your lips and take his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue and cleaning off the taste of leather that still lingers on his skin. 
“Thank you.”
He strokes your jaw with his thumb. “You wanna know what else?”
You're already leaning into his palm as he cradles your cheek, and he’s so proud of the volcanic thaw in your eyes. “What else?”
Joel reaches back into his coat pocket and places something small in your palms. It’s a smooth wooden figurine that smells faintly of sawdust and is carved in the perfect likeness of your home, which sits across the street from his. 
“‘s almost Christmas,” he says, suddenly so unsure of himself as he watches you turn the little shack over in your hands. “Thought you might like—”
But you're leaping onto him like a little monkey, your mouth crashing against his. It’s all lips and teeth and tongue and he can taste the chocolate he placed there just moments ago. The chimney of your miniature home prods his chest as you hold the figure close, tucking it safely between your bodies. 
“Easy, baby girl,” he says with a low laugh, not-quite pulling away, letting you lick into his mouth like a cat after milk. The scratch of his beard will leave patches on your chin and everyone will see them. He grins, tilting your head up and soothing the worried skin with soft kisses. 
“I love it,” you tell him, sighing into his body, “so much. I love it, Joel.”
“Good.” He nudges his nose against your temple. “Take good care of it, now.”
You nod, scratching at the too-long hair curling slightly at the nape of his neck. “How do you know that it's almost Christmas?” you ask him after a moment. 
“Took a guess,” he says, nipping your earlobe. “Y’know, the big tree they put up in the middle of town helps.”
You playfully tug his hair. “Asshole.”
“So goddamn mouthy. Gettin’ spoiled.”
“You're the one spoiling me,” you purr, mouthing wetly along his jaw. 
Joel chuckles. “Yeah. Guess I am.”
“You know”—your voice takes on a musical lilt—“I don't have my Christmas tree yet.”
Joel lifts his brows. “You want a Christmas tree?”
You lift one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t really remember the holidays.”
The watery shimmer under your irises reminds Joel just how much more life he's lived. You were young when the outbreak started, both parents lost to the virus before the first week was out. You’d hid under your bed for three days straight before FEDRA found you. 
They’d taken you, underfed and dehydrated, to the Colorado QZ, where you spend most of your adolescence until it was bombed by Fireflies. You'd managed to sneak away before they could round you up like FEDRA had. You’d travelled with one group to the next before Jackson welcomed you. 
There's a scar on your throat, just below your jaw on the right side, and another at the nape of your neck. You've been held at knifepoint, you told him in the early days of knowing one another, by the very same people who'd taken you in as one of their own. They’d offered you up as trade for some deer meat. Joel traces the mark and feels his throat constrict. 
The kind of life you’d led before Jackson… He’ll make sure you never have to run again. 
“Let’s get you one,” he says. “Tomorrow.”
You pull away from him to meet his eye. “Joel…”
“Tommy’s got a saw behind the bar. I can take down a tree. We’ll bring it back ‘n’ put it up in your place.”
The grin creeps up at the corner of your mouth. “You're going soft, Miller.”
Joel just crowds you back against the wall and slants his mouth over yours. He has no problem going soft when he can feel the wooden edges of his gift to you prodding the flesh of his chest. Let it pierce him. 
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Joel has few rules he's willing to push back on. At his age, he's lost some of his jagged edges, compromising on more. When he's got you like this, tucked into his side, wearing only his shirt, he remembers exactly why he enforces these few rules. 
The light is soft in the winter; it doesn't quite penetrate his eastern-facing window the way the summer sun does. He blinks awake, feeling you shift next to him, your nose buried in his throat. Your arms are wrapped tight around his middle, one leg hoisted over his torso. 
“C’mon, baby,” he grunts, throwing his arm over his eyes. “Gotta get up.”
He can feel your sleepy pout against his neck. “Mph.”
“Yeah, I know.” Joel chuckles, slumping back into the mattress. You shift so you're on top of him, your thighs bracketing his hips. Sitting up, you explore his bare chest with your soft hands, migrating down the length of his torso and his softening belly. He grabs your hips and soothes himself awake by rubbing his hands up and down your sides. The fabric of his shirt draped over your body shifts under his palms. 
“I’m patrolling with Tad,” you tell him, “so we’ll have to put up the tree when I get back.”
“No, you're not.”
You cock your head. “Tommy told me—”
“Tommy doesn't know what the hell he's talkin’ about,” says Joel. “You and I get the day off. And I”—he pulls you down toward him and secures his hand at the back of your neck—“know a spot.”
Your answering hum is playful. “You know a spot. I had a couple boyfriends back in the QZ who knew a spot, too, Miller.”
“I ain't your old boyfriends,” he says with a faint growl, landing a light smack on your ass. “There’s a good trail west of here. Some trees what would look nice all done up.”
You beam down at him. Your hair is somewhat tousled from sleep and the fuzzy light haloes your head. “You aren't worried about raiders?”
“Don't think I can keep you safe?” He caresses your bare thighs, his cock interested in the warmth of you on his lap. 
Your mouth fits over his, fingers threading through his hair, and Joel settles into the steady rhythm of your heartbeat fluttering against his own chest. 
“I think,” you whisper, “that we're already late. Let's go get a Christmas tree.”
Half an hour later, he’s still yawning on his way to the stables and wishing he was in the warmth of his bed instead of out here in the biting cold. Joel runs his gloved palms together and fixes his rifle over his shoulder. 
You, of course, are fresh-faced and early, securing the saddle over your chestnut mare Princess. Joel pats her snout and inspects your pack where it hangs on the hook nearby. 
“Forgot your bandages again.”
You hum and it's music. “You always have extra. Ready to go?”
“Sure you’re not waiting for Tad?”
You gently pat your horse’s back. “Tad is terrified of you, so he's terrified of me. You're ruining my reputation, Miller.”
“That so?” Joel sidles up next to you, pushing your pack into your arms. “You got a complaint you wanna file?”
“None so far,” you say, biting down on your grin, “but there's always time. Better be careful with me.”
“I’m always careful,” Joel says into your ear. “Now go on. We got ground to cover.”
There is a method to Joel Miller’s madness. Tommy knows damn well he needs to pick his battles. But Joel will always win when it comes to you. That is where he simply does not compromise. 
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, Tommy.”
His brother’s hands fly up, palms out, already pleading his case. “Joel, listen to me—”
Joel slaps the book against Tommy’s chest. “I don't need to hear your goddamn excuses. She doesn't go with anyone but me.”
“Listen,” says Tommy, tossing the worn leather agenda aside. “We've got people out sick, and they ain't about to go out in this cold. And you need to be with Flynn, ‘cause Christ knows he ain't trained up enough to handle anything up in those woods.”
Joel scoffs. “And Tad’s trained up enough to go with her? Don't give me that shit, Tommy. She goes with me.”
“Joel—”
“We clear?” He squares up to his brother, folding his arms over his chest. 
Tommy rolls his eyes at Joel’s posturing but concedes nonetheless. “Fine. I’ll take Flynn.”
“Good.” Joel turns to leave for the stables. He’s stopped by a hand on his shoulder. 
“She’s a strong girl,” says Tommy, “and you can't play guard dog forever.”
The snow has settled a bit in the week since the first fall. It's crystallised and hardened underfoot, packed tightly. Icicles dangle from the naked trees on the outskirts of the woods, and your breath mists. The cold penetrates your jeans and the slivers of exposed wrists where your gloves don't quite meet your coat sleeves. Hugging Joel around the middle, your body heat shudders through him. 
“Snow like this is always a goddamn problem,” he mutters. 
“Covers tracks,” you say. 
“That's right. You do listen.”
“Well, when you give me chocolate…”
Joel veers Princess north and brings your gloved palms to his mouth so he can breathe warm air into them. You sigh your thanks, bumping your forehead into his back before returning to your vigilance as lookout. Once you're well out of the way of the city walls, it's easier to get wrapped up in the blistering wind. You bring your bandanna up over your nose and watch Joel do the same as you pass the river. It’s frozen over, not blue but a sheet of miserable white. You mourn the loss of colour as the wind nips at your skin. 
“We’ll have more cover when we break through the trees,” says Joel. “Shuffle closer to me.”
You do, sliding your hips forward. Princess’s reins around one fist, he covers your hands with his other, squeezing you intermittently. His body heat helps you settle comfortably into him. 
“What was your first Christmas like with Sarah?”
Joel chuckles. “She was one hell of a rowdy kid. Had to fish her out of the tree one time—only turned my back for a goddamn second.”
You smile fondly. “Thought you were gonna have to drag Ellie kicking and screaming out of that snowball fight the other day. She was a minute away from nailing your brother in the face.”
“Hmph. Asshole probably deserved it,” says Joel. “Sarah’d never hurt a fly. She saved spiders; threw ‘em outside instead of killin’ ‘em. But she’d get along with Ellie. Sometimes I look at her and see Sarah.” Joel’s quiet for a moment, guiding Princess past the tree line where the wind begins to penetrate in bursts rather than a constant stream of cold. “Do you think that's wrong?”
You frown. “No. I don't think so. Sometimes, I talk to kids in town that remind me of you. They’ll have a nose or eyes that make me think of you, and I’ll think it’s so nice that we’re all still here, still kicking. You know? There are parts of Sarah in Ellie and there are parts of that tree over there in me. When we love someone, we see them everywhere.”
Joel brings Princess to a halt about a half-mile into the woods; a trail veers off to the east next to you. He loops her reins around the branch of a tree and helps you off the horse. “Y’know,” he says, “you're too damn smart for your own good.”
“You’ll do well to remember that, Miller.” You shove your bandanna back down so it lies limp around your neck. “Now show me this spot.”
Joel failed to warn you that it involved a hike. An honest-to-fuck hike. You and your boots are used to traversing long distances, but you hadn't particularly prepared to trek through the frozen woods in December on a few hours’ sleep, a couple hours’ orgasm, and a hastily-chugged cup of coffee. Not had you prepared for an uphill hike in the brutal cold just to find a fucking Christmas tree.
If you didn't like him so damn much, you know for a fact you'd happily throttle your Joel. 
Your Joel, who can't seem to find a tree that's good enough for you. Too tall, he'll say about one, won't fit inside your place. Too skinny, he’ll say about another, you could barely string lights on that. 
Your lungs are burning cold. Every breath you inhale feels like swallowing needles. Your chest heaves and your cheeks are numb and you’re drawing up what's left of your resolve to give him a piece of your mind. 
“Nah, not this one,” he’s saying, knocking his fist against the trunk of another tree. “It’s practically hollow. Would crumble the second we—”
“Joel, if you could find a tree you do like so we can head back and I can stop freezing to death, that would be so, so appreciated.”
Your teeth chatter the whole time, but you get your message across. Joel stops, his hand splayed against another tree, a smaller one with a decent-sized middle, and turns to face you. 
“You cold, baby?”
It's not an innocent question. Around you, the wind whips at the branches of the tallest trees and crackles through the air. But Joel’s voice, slow and gravel-thick, permeates the breeze. It bites deeper, to the gums, latched in your skin. It’s warm. 
No—it's hot. 
Joel’s hand drops from the tree. His foot crunches the snow under his boot as he takes a step toward you. 
Wordlessly, you nod. 
“You had lots to say before, baby girl. Thought you wanted your Christmas tree.”
You do. Fuck, you want to go home. You want to curl up in his bed with another cup of coffee and warm yourself up with his body. But Joel is staring at you, eyes hard, rubbing his gloved hand over his mouth, and the alternative now feels much more tempting. “Uh-huh.” 
“I think you should see for yourself,” he says, “whether or not you want this one. Go on.”
He's playing some game. He’s ringed with silvery light, a soft and hazy glow backlighting his longer hair, threaded with grey, his body so broad, solid, strong—
There’s none of your Joel in the way he stands. This is the Joel who’s used to following orders. This is the Joel he never lets you truly see: the man who has seen so many more years, seen so much more of the world.
You pass him, hiking farther up the trail, to inspect the tree. It is decent; just taller than you, but thick enough to stay upright, plush with needles. A gentle tug at your scalp, a puff of warm air on your cheek, the dizzying weight of him at your back. He’s twirling a lock of your hair between two gloved fingers. 
“You like it?” he says gruffly, his mouth mere inches from your ear. The telltale tingling begins in your core and you swallow hard. 
“Joel, I didn’t mean to—”
“Shhh. None of that. I wasn’t thinkin’, sweetheart.” He nips at your earlobe, hands trailing down your body, underneath your heavy coat, sitting warmly on your hips. “Gotta keep my girl nice ‘n’ warm. Got all caught up in my own head, thinkin’ like a carpenter. Let me make it up?”
He loves so selflessly that it can feel bizarrely like greed. 
Sometimes, you forget that he’s so much older. That he lived his own way of living for a long time before you came along, that he knows this planet like that back of his hand, that you can’t even begin to name a country or a food or a song that FEDRA didn’t teach you. That you’ve only just begun to experience the terror and the pain that’s engulfed this world for so long. 
Joel Miller’s lived a long life. He’s choosing to spend these moments with you, in the cold, dead woods, picking out a Christmas tree. For as long as he’s been waking up with you, his girl, he’s wanted you longer. He’s tired. He’s old. But he’s finally getting to choose. 
He’d like to think he deserves a bit of choice after all this time. So, again, he comes back to you, like the last time and the last, spreading his fingers over your body and cupping you, molten gold, in his hands. 
Settle down, his brother told him a few years back. You deserve this, Joel. To just… settle down, if you can ever find a way.
You’re his way. He intends to make it clear. 
“Need to hear you say yes, baby,” he says, shifting your hair aside, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck where it’s warm and quiet and smells of the coffee he always makes you.
“Yes,” you whisper, reaching back to fix your hand at the nape of his neck and glue him to you. “Please. Please, Joel.”
He grins, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your throat, the fluttering veins below your jaw. He steals every one of your heartbeats for himself. 
“All right,” he says. “We’ll get this one.”
Eyes lidded, you watch over your shoulder as Joel fiddles with the button of your jeans and yanks down your panties with them, now hanging limply off your knees. 
“Joel!” you gasp. The cold air bites your thighs, your ass, your poor, slick pussy, as he unwraps his present. Playfully squeezing your ass, he grinds his clothed front against you. 
“Yeah, baby?” he mumbles, the smug bastard, pinning you to the tree by his strong hips, your fingers splayed on the trunk. Above you, pine needles flutter down to the ground around you, but the trunk doesn't budge. 
It is a good tree. 
“‘m cold,” you manage, putty in his hands, under the sweet, slow kisses he's pressing to your jaw. 
Your petulant whine rivals the pitch of the wind off the mountain trail. The whistling air shrieks. The hard weight at your back absconds with the warmth it brought you, and he's bending to one knee, packing a not-quite spherical ball of snow in his gloves. 
“You’re cold?” It doesn't sound like a question and you're nodding anyway, your cheek scraping the bark of the fir tree. It smells of terpenes and the shingles of bark bleed resin.
“I’m so cold, Daddy.”
He stands, and a huge glove is caging your ribs, a bearded cheek nuzzling your temple. “Let’s see, baby girl. Open wide.” 
He brings his other hand between your exposed thighs and, lips prying at the corner of your mouth, cups the feebly-formed snowball against your pussy. 
“Daddy,” you gasp, writhing away and grinding into his hand all the same, your mouth open in a long, pitiful cry. Your silvery breath ascends in a long-limbed dance with his own. 
The snow melts in moments, rubbed firm into the scorching heat of your body, but you feel the biting cold against your clit as if it were pulled between a set of pearly teeth. 
“See?” There’s a cruel tone of mocking in it and you preen like it’s a sweet lullaby. “Nice ‘n’ warm.” 
He mouths at the crook of your neck, hot and wet, tongue dipping into the junction between your ear and your jaw, where it’s soft and does not hurt when he bites down. 
The once-packed snow, now tepid and formless, drips down your thighs, and the air is so cold it begins to freeze again. Joel hears your helpless moan and takes pity, unbuckling his own jeans just enough to pull out his cock. 
But he doesn't slot himself at your needy hole and push slowly inside you the way he did last night. No—he guides the leaking head between your thighs and closes your legs around him, the length of him flush to your cunt. 
“Ohhhh, fuck.” You shiver, dropping your forehead against the tree, as Joel lubricates his cock with the melted water of the snowball and begins to fuck himself between the cushions of your thighs. “Joel… oh my God, Daddy—”
He grunts, taking it slow, the wet slide of his cock electrifying, cold and warm all at once, his body caging yours against the tree. With every thrust, the head of his cock catches on your clit, and he gasps in your ear, nibbling your exposed skin. You grasp at his hair, the hand that presses down on your belly, fixing him to you. 
“That's it, baby. Goddamn, you feel so good. So fuckin’ soft, just for me, all for Daddy, right, baby girl?”
“Yes, yes! I’m yours, all yours, please…” Your thighs twitch when his cock drags along your clit once more, and it's so good—but it's not enough. 
“I know,” groans Joel, lowering your joined hands to your clit and rubbing slow, aching circles over your slick pearl. A strained moan rumbles in your chest and your head grows heavy, falling back on his shoulder. The pleasure, white-hot and insistent, makes you forget all about the cold air savagely biting off chunks of your skin. It's all Joel. “I know, baby girl. That feel good?”
“Mmmm,” you manage, breathless and panting, your exhales swirling up into the air and disappearing in the trees. He keeps your hands joined, working in tandem to pleasure your needy clit. “Mhm, so good. Just like that.”
Joel nods into the crook of your neck, keeping the pressure steady on your clit as he continues to get himself off between your legs. “My pretty girl, so cold,” he rasps, “so needy. Y’know I’d get you anything you wanted.”
You nod vigorously, wetting his cock with your arousal, gloved fingers slick on your pussy. The rough grind of the leather closes an electrical circuit up and down your body. Joel Miller has always known how to make you feel safe, cared-for—sensations you'd never known before Jackson. With him, you're glutted, satiated. With you, he’s begun his long winter’s task of settling down. 
“Let go for me, baby,” he says, taking your jaw between his teeth as he feels his stomach tighten, his balls pulling up. “C’mon, baby girl, let me feel it. Get yourself all warm with me.”
He rubs your clit faster until you're seizing, core tensing, your mouth open in a long, low cry that echoes down the trail. Joel talks you through it, good girl, that’s it, I know it’s a lot, honey, just let go, and your fingers flex, trapped in his, as you come until your legs are trembling. 
Joel hums like he's satisfied, his hips pummeling into your backside in stuttering thrusts that indicate he's coming, too. “You gonna let me come, baby girl?” he says, baring his teeth against your cheek. “Gonna forgive me?”
“Yesyesyes! Fuck, you’re so good. Please come for me, Daddy, please!”
“Fuck, baby, I will. I will.” And he does—stuffing his cock between your thighs, it begins to pulse beneath your cunt, spilling hot cum all over your legs, your pussy, the tree he’s pinned you against. All the while, he holds you tight, his mouth greedy on you, words coaxed into your ears that aren't meant for another soul. 
“You’re mine. All fuckin’ mine.” He's rambling as he comes down, spurts of cum still dribbling from his cock down your thighs. “Goddamn perfect.”
You shiver as the cold begins to seep back in through your skin, even as Joel helps pull your jeans back up over your ass. It's a bit uncomfortable, feeling the slide of his cum on your legs underneath the denim, but you smile anyway, letting him guide you to face him, your foreheads pressing together. 
“I like this one,” you tell him. Joel laughs, bringing your mouth to his for another kiss. 
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“Dude, where the fuck did you get this?” 
You look over your shoulder at Ellie, who inspects your miniature figurine, now with a home just inside your foyer. 
“Joel gave it to me,” you tell her. 
“Whooooa. You think he could make me a dinosaur?”
You turn to Joel, who's nursing some bourbon and hiding a smile in the rim of the glass. “That's a great question, Ellie. What do you think, Joel?”
“C’mon, man, when do I ever ask you for anything?”
Joel chokes into his glass. “Every goddamn day of your life, Ellie.”
“Okay, well, just think about how cool it would be to have a dinosaur. It’s basically the real thing.”
Joel shakes his head. “Yeah, okay. Maybe next year.”
“Ugh. Fine. But don't think I’m not gonna remember.”
Idly rubbing his back, you lean into him and turn your head toward the tree. It sits tall and proud in the corner, strung with a couple coloured lights Maria had found for you, hung with baubles that some of the schoolchildren had been thrilled to make. It's a bit bare in spots, haphazardly decorated, prickly to the touch.
“You like it?” asks Joel, nudging his nose against your temple. 
“It's perfect.”
He grins into your cheek. “You think she’ll like the dinosaur?”
Your eyes fall to the smattering of gifts under the tree, tossed into spare crates and bags.  
“Ellie, why don't you open first?”
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babydollmarauders · 4 months
Text
SWEETEST GIFT — LUKE HUGHES
luke hughes x fem!reader
12 DAYS OF KINKMAS
summary: in which Luke gives y/n the sweetest gift, resulting in an eventful christmas night
warnings: anxiety, NSFW CONTENT, praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v (protected). (5k words)
notes: merry christmas and welcome to the final day of kinkmas! i hope you’ve all enjoyed these past 12 days and that everyone has a wonderful holiday! this is the longest fic of them all because apparently i’m actually incapable of writing a short luke smut…
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i’m late.
it’s arguably the most important date so far in my relationship, and i’m late.
i don’t mean to be, obviously; the last thing i wanna do is make a bad first impression on my boyfriend’s teammates, but under the circumstances, it was completely out of my control.
i told my family several times that i needed to be out the door by four o’clock, and i thought they understood that. but then christmas breakfast turned into christmas brunch and gifts were opened late and then my mother insisted i stayed until my little cousins arrived and i still had to get changed and it was a chaotic mess all the way until i got out the door.
at five o’clock.
an entire hour later than i was supposed to leave.
so now here i am, having driven barefoot to my boyfriends apartment and only just now pulling my boots on, messy bun unreasonably… messy, and his gift having fallen onto the floor of my car after some definite traffic law violations in order to arrive as quick as possible.
once my boots are zipped securely on my feet, i’m leaning almost entirely over the center console, my hand patting at the passengers side floor until i finally grasp the present; a box wrapped in shiny red paper.
i quickly stumble out of the car, slamming the door shut behind me before i take off into the apartment complex. the wait for the elevator feels infinite, and the ride up even longer, but i finally reach the apartment door.
faint music drifts through the cracked open door, the sounds of multiple men talking each other overpowering the melodies that play, and i knock lightly upon the wood. after one more knock and two minutes of nobody answering, i push the door open, peeking my head in to find nobody in the entry way.
tip-toeing in, i close the door behind me, the short heels of my boots clicking against the hardwood floor as i shrug my coat off, hanging it on the overcrowded coat rack by the door before i wander further into the apartment.
i determine the source of the voices as the kitchen, but opt to veer off and drop Luke’s present off in his bedroom before i join them, as i know we won’t be exchanging gifts until after dinner. i set the gift on his bed, leaving his bedroom door open on my way out, but rather than walking into the empty hallway, i find myself colliding with a hard chest as someone leaves the restroom.
“oh shit, sorry!” i squeak, looking up to find a confused face staring back at me.
the unfamiliar man is tall, at least a couple inches taller than my boyfriend, with blue-green eyes and brown buzzed hair. he stares down at me a frown and threaded brows.
“excuse me, are you supposed to be here?” he questions, and i nod quickly, swallowing harshly as i try to push down the anxiety of meeting this new person.
i glance down the hallway in hopes that Luke will miraculously appear, but i can still hear him laughing in the kitchen, “yes, yeah! i am!”
the man narrows his eyes at me, “yeah, ‘cause that didn’t sound suspicious.”
he stalks down the hallway quickly towards the kitchen, my shorter legs following behind him.
“guys, there’s a girl over here! never seen her before!” the man calls out, his voice carrying over the sound of all the others and gaining the guys attention.
one by one i see heads peeking out from the kitchen, making me stop in my tracks. my hands shake with anxiety as they all peer back at me, some faces looking frustrated or annoyed, until finally my boyfriend emerges from the kitchen.
a small smile is painted across his lips, but it drops as he sees my nervous body languages. picking my steps back up, i walk slowly into his arms, incredibly perceptive of the amount of eyes that watch me.
“hi, angel.” Luke’s arms enclose around my waist, pulling me tight against him as he speaks.
“hi, Lukey. sorry, i’m late.” his body shakes as he chuckles, brushing off my apologies.
“it’s okay,” he assures me as i pull away, “i see you met Bass.”
i turn, my back pressing against Luke’s chest as his arm winds around to hug around my stomach, facing his teammates, who all seem a lot less menacing now that they know i’m not a crazy fangirl who found her way in.
“Bass,” i repeat, staring at the man whom i ran into. i rack my brain for a moment, trying to remember who Luke has said this man is in the past, “ah, yes, Nathan!”
Nathan nods with a smile, “you can just call me Nate or Bass, all the guys do. sorry about scaring you, didn’t realize you were Rusty’s girl.”
i bite back a laugh at my boyfriend’s hockey nickname. i’ve heard it before, but it’ll take some getting used to.
“it’s okay.”
Luke points out each friend, introducing them one by one until i’ve met all five; Nico, Dawson, John, Timo, and Nathan.
“and then you know Jack.” Luke waves his brother off, making me chuckle.
“yeah, hi, Jack.”
Jack smiles, “hi, y/n. there’s some wine in the kitchen, if you want some.”
the guys retreat to living room after Luke promises to check on the ham in the oven, guiding me into the kitchen. grabbing a wine glass from a cupboard, he fills it with a red wine before turning and leaning against the counter, handing the glass off to me.
“you look like you could use it.” he laughs, making me slap his chest in playful annoyance.
“i could! my family is batshit crazy,” i sigh, taking a big gulp of the wine before i set the glass down on the counter, “i was supposed to be here an hour ago but apparently my mother can’t tell time and lord knows i’m not allowed to leave until she deems christmas over.”
i walk myself between his slightly spread legs, dropping my forehead on his chest as i groan, “i just need food and cuddles.”
“well, i can check one thing off that list, but i can’t promise the ham will be edible, after all, Jack made it so…”
a giggle falls from my lips as i peer up into his eyes, shrugging my shoulders, “yeah, maybe i’ll stick to the mashed potatoes.”
the rest of the evening goes about as smoothly as i figured it would; i had to end up finishing the ham because i had absolutely no faith in Jack to not overcook it, the guys playfully teased Luke and told me funny stories of things he’s done on roadies or in the locker room, and we all sat around the living room and ate christmas dinner as Jack and Dawson heavily debated what the best christmas movie is.
finally, about three hours later, the guys took off to a local bar for some drinks and darts, Luke and i staying back in order to spend some alone time together.
“c’mon, i wanna give you your gift.” Luke smiles, hand slipping into mine as we rise from the couch, walking down the hallways and into his room.
he shuts the door behind us, grabbing a small, poorly wrapped present off of his dresser before we both sit on his bed.
“okay, wait, you first.” i tell him, picking the red present up off the mattress and pushing it into his hands.
my boyfriend was a bit difficult to shop for, seeing ad when he wants something, he usually just buys it. but i figured i could never go wrong by combining something he loves with one of his favorite hobbies.
he hands me my present, but i wait to unwrap it until he wraps his, rather enjoying watching him shed the paper from the box. a smile spreads across his face as he looks up at me.
“it’s a lego model of the UMich football stadium! i figured it was something for you to do over the next couple free days, or just whenever you want, but i thought it was perfect because you love building lego sets and you love michigan and-”
my ramble is cut off gently by his lips, his hand cupping my cheek as he kisses me slowly.
“i love it,” he says as he pulls away, eyes gazing straight into mine as he smiles, “it’s extremely thoughtful. maybe you can help me build it?”
i nod, leaning in to press my lips against his once more, “if you want me to, i’ll happily do so. or i’ll just keep you company as you build it.”
“that sounds great, angel. alright, you’re turn!”
i giggle at his enthusiasm, looking down at the small gift in my hands. i slowly peel the wrapping paper off, making a mental note to teach him how to wrap in the new year, until i finally unveil a velvet jewelry box.
my eyes widen, flickering up to my boyfriend in surprise, but he just gives me a small, encouraging nod.
flipping open the top, a simple yet beautiful necklace comes into view; a dainty silver chain with a tiny, minimalistic ‘L’ in the middle.
“oh my god,” i breathe out, my hand rising to my lips in shock, “Luke, this is beautiful.”
“i thought maybe you could wear it when you come to watch me play.” his cheeks blush a rosy pink as i look back up at him, obviously a bit more self-conscious now than he was merely minutes ago.
“can you put it on me?” i ask him, and he nods, taking the box from my hands in order to pull the necklace from the velvet interior.
i twist around, holding my hair up and allowing him to gently clasp the necklace around my neck. his fingers graze the back of my neck, sending shockwaves throughout my body as he makes sure the necklace is secure before he lets go, his hands smoothing over my shoulders and down my arms when he finishes.
i turn again, facing him once more as my hand reaches up to my collarbone, my fingertips running over the cool metal as i grin.
“it’s so beautiful, Lukey. i love it.” i cup his cheeks, pulling his face forward to press an excited kiss against his lips.
i kiss him breathlessly, our lips locking as i crawl into his lap, one leg on each side of his body, “i love you.”
i tense after the three monumental words leave my mouth, a heat of the moment confession that i wasn’t sure he was ready to hear; but, i know i’ve been ready to say.
“shit, you- uh- you don’t have to say it back. please, don’t feel like you have to say it if you aren’t ready. i mean, i know i was ready, but that doesn’t mean you have to be. you can take your ti-”
for the second time tonight, my words are shortened by my boyfriend’s lips against mine, a smile fighting against his facial muscles as he kisses me.
“i love you too.” he whispers.
my heart races, beating so strongly it feels as though it’s about to escape my chest, but my body relaxes, my eyes gazing into his as i sigh.
“you do?”
he nods, hands rubbing gently up my sides in comforting movements, “i do. i love you so much.”
i’m overwhelmed with relief and joy, the corners of my lips quirking up in a wide grin; absolutely bewitched by the beautiful boy in front of me.
i’m not sure what i’ve done in life to have deserved someone as kind, humorous, and caring as Luke; someone who gets me sweet, thoughtful gifts; who does anything to ease my anxiety the moment he spots the signs; who loves me for exactly who i am, and who reminds me every day that i’m gorgeous and perfect in my own way. but, i know that i’m incredibly grateful to have him in my life, and i want to share all of life’s beautiful moments with him.
my lips descend upon his, a breathy sigh blowing from my nose as my eyes flutter closed, pulling him deeper into the kiss with my grip on the back of his neck. his hands still on my waist, fingers gripping a little tighter as i begin to rock my hips slowly against his.
he groans into my lips, hands stilling my hips as he pulls away, our faces still close enough that i can feel his breath against my lips, and i whine at the loss of the delicious feeling that had begun rolling through my body.
“you gotta stop, angel.” he gulps, voice tight and shaky, “if you don’t, i’m gonna have a… situation, and i don’t wanna make you feel like you have to do anything yet.”
my skin feels hot, uncomfortable even, and i register it quickly as want.
despite the fact that Luke and i haven’t actually done anything yet, it’s not like i’m unfamiliar with being horny, or even having had sex. i just wanted to take things slow him; wanted to take time to enjoy our relationship without the physicality that’s made my past relationships messy.
i heave in a breath, my chest brushing against his, and the feeling of my peaked nipples skimming against his hard body makes me all the more aroused.
“i’m ready, Lukey.” i tell him in a breathy whine.
his eyes flicker in size, swallowing harshly before he speaks, “are you sure?”
“yes.” i nod, placing a short kiss on his lips, “i’m ready, and now is the perfect time; the apartment is empty, it’s just us two, and i love you so much.”
“if you don’t want to, i’m not pushing! i’m okay with just watching a movie or cuddling, we don’t have to do anything.” i add.
Luke’s hand cradles my face, pulling me into another kiss, “of course, i want to. you’re the most stunning, most thoughtful and sweetest girl i’ve ever met; i’d be a damn fool not to want this.”
i bite back a giggle, blood rushing to my cheeks from his affectionate words.
“but i don’t want you to feel rushed. i’ll wait as long as you want, because i don’t want you to feel like you have to sleep with me just because i said i love you.”
“i don’t feel like that.” i shake my head, the back of my hand ghosting over his cheek, “i really want this, Luke. i mean it. i feel safe with you, i trust you.”
he smiles, a divine smile that makes my heart do flips, overwhelmed with love for the pure soul that has entangled with mine in the absolute best ways.
“you trust me?” he echoes, hands sliding down to cup my ass, making me shiver in anticipation.
“mhm.”
with my hum of a response, i’m suddenly flipped over, my back bouncing onto the mattress, my hair sprawling over the pillows as my boyfriend hovers over top of me. his hot breath fans over my neck, lips pressing against my heated skin and making me sigh in contentment.
he paves a path with his lips, soft and slow, down to the collar of my sweater, the only sound in the room being my heavy pants and his wet kisses.
“Luke.” i sigh as his hands travel up my sides, sliding underneath my top. he hums against my collarbone, his thumbs grazing over my ribs until his hands cup underneath my breasts, my sweater bunched up.
chilled air hits against my stomach, my abdomen tightening in response, and i desire nothing more than to rid the layers between us.
“take it off me, please.”
he pulls away at my plea, hands shimmying my sweater up and over my head, pulling my arms free before he flings the fabric to the floor.
his eyes rake my body in silence for several moments, and i begin to feel self-consciousness creep up on me, my arms wrapping over my stomach. but he’s not having it, fingers enclosing around my wrists and pulling them away.
“uh-uh, none of that.” he whispers breathlessly, “you’re beautiful, angel. so fucking perfect.”
my cheeks flush, confidence filling me from the inside out as he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, his eyes blown out and darkened with lust.
“thank you.” he shakes his head at my response.
“don’t thank me.” he says, “if you knew the things i’m thinking of doing to you right now, you wouldn’t be thanking me.”
his words light a fire deep in my core, my panties dampening with every word that drops from his perfect lips.
“no, i think i would.” i rasp, voice low and dripping with lust, “i think i would want to thank you a million times over.”
“i need you so bad.” i confess.
my hands lock around his neck, pulling him back down to me. he kisses me in earnest, hips rolling down into mine, his quickly hardening erection pressing against my jean clad core.
i moan against him, a low guttural sound that pours out when his hands come up to massage my breasts over my padless red bra. he dips down, embedding open mouthed kisses upon my skin, leading down to my cleavage.
“can i?” he asks, fingers edging the cups of my bra, and i nod in approval.
he rolls his hips into mine again, my back arching, and he slips his hand underneath me, unhooking my bra with fumbling fingers. he pulls it off my body, once again discarding the clothing to the floor.
his thumbs circle my nipples and he watches me as my eyes fly shut, my lips parting as i let out a shaky breath in response to his actions.
“i’m the luckiest guy in the damn world.” he huffs, so quietly that i’m not sure he was even talking to me, more so whispering to himself.
“Luke, please,” i whine, “less talking, more touching.”
my words earn a melodious chuckle from his lips before he lowers his head to my chest, continuing to play with one nipple as the other gets extra attention. his tongue drags around the stiffed peak before its caught between his lips, softly sucked and grazed extra lightly by his teeth, making my body tremble.
after a few moments he switches, giving proper love to the other side. my leg hooks around his waist, hips bucking up to rub my clothes cunt against his now fully hardened erection.
my hands fist his shirt at his shoulder blades, tugging lightly.
“off,” i breathe, “i want this off. i wanna feel you.”
Luke pulls away from my breast, my nipple dropping from his mouth with a pop, and within seconds he’s leaning back, tugging the shirt over his head. suddenly it’s my turn to gape and stare.
obviously, i’ve seen him shirtless, but his body is one i’ll never tire of; the sight will forever and always make my heart beat faster, my core get wetter, and my soul sigh.
“take a picture, angel,” he winks, “it’ll last longer.”
he’s joking, but if i had my phone on me, i would.
“kiss me, please?”
i don’t have to say any more, those words enough to bring his lips back to mine, our bare chests pressing against one another. we take our time, tossing and turning in the bed, our lips rarely straying from each other’s, until i finally rid myself of my jeans, entirely too ready to move on.
“look at me,” he says, his lips dragging on my stomach as he speaks, “you trust me, yeah?”
“yes,” i nod, breath shaky, “i do.”
“i want you to relax. keep your eyes on me, angel.”
i nod again, eyes trained on his unruly mess of curls as his thumbs tuck into the waistband of my panties, his eyes lifting back to mine in await of approval. when i give him the go ahead, he’s pulling the last fabric that adorns my body down my thighs, past my calves, and throwing them onto the floor.
i lay stripped down in front of him, in a state of complete and utter vulnerability, yet too needy and love drunk to bring myself to care about the way i look.
he lays down on his stomach between my legs, making my breath hitch as his warm breath hits my wet pussy. but when i feel his tongue glide through my folds, tensing when he reaches my clit to provide pressure, that breath is released in a heavy yet quivering sigh.
my hands reach out to tangle in his curls as he slowly drags his tongue around my achingly wet cunt, flexing and flattening the oral muscle depending on where it is on my body.
“Lukey,” i pant, body shaking as his lips enclose around my puffy clit, rolling it between them lightly before letting it go.
he pulls back with a smile, juices glistening around his mouth and chin, “you think you can take my fingers, angel?”
“mhm,” i nod, “yes, please!”
he dives back in, this time picking up his pace; and not a moment later, i’m squirming, a cry of contentment echoing through the room as he pushes two fingers in, curling them up with every thrust he makes.
i’ve given up on words, relying on the sounds that fall from my lips to let him know how surreal his movements feel.
his fingers begin to scissor, adding a pleasurably painful stretch in order to help me ready for him, and at the same time, he flicks his tongue against my clit, successfully drawing my mind away from the pain and towards the immense pleasure he’s bringing me.
my stomach feels tight, pressure building with every movement of his tongue and every thrust of his fingers.
“i’m so close.” i tell him in a breathless whimper, my hips grinding down upon his face and hand.
he moans against me in response, vibrations reverberating through me, and my walls begin to tighten around his fingers, the familiar feeling of balancing on the edge of orgasm spreading through my body.
my thighs close around his head, but he just hums against me again, making my toes curl against the sheets.
“Luke, i’m gonna cum.” i warn him, voice tightly strained, my breath catching in my throat.
my body is hot and sticky, the air moist as his hand begins smoothing up and down my thigh, and i take that as the sign to let go, my legs shaking as i finally reach my release.
Luke continues to lap at my clit, while his fingers work me through my orgasm until i can’t take anymore. breath heavy and body trembling, i push his head away, his face finally emerging with wet, swollen lips and a soft smirk.
“did so good for me.” he praises, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he hovers back over me, pressing his lips against mine.
his tongue tangles with mine, tasting salty yet a little sweet, and i moan against his lips, my hands trail down his abs to hook into the waistband of his jeans.
“you gotta wait a second, angel,” he mumbles against my lips, “don’t wanna overwork you.”
i groan, turning my head, and his lips press against my neck.
“fuck that,” i tell him, fingers fumbling with the button of his pants, “i want you now.”
“if you’re sure?” i nod quickly at his words, making him sit back.
he hastily unbuckles his belt, not bothering to take it off before he’s unzipping his jeans, kicking them off and onto the floor before he rids himself of his boxers.
his cock springs free, his tip a harsh red and precum beads at the slit, glistening in the low light of the bedroom.
leaning over to his nightstand, he digs around in the drawer for a moment before his hand emerges with a shiny foil packet. he tears the packet open, pulling the condom out and carefully sliding it onto himself, and i watch with desperate eyes as he gives himself a few tugs before turning back to me.
he hovers above me, bent on one forearm as his other hand grasps his shaft. he spreads my wetness around with his tip, sliding through my folds easily, and when he taps against my clit, my whole body aches with need.
“please.” i beg, and that’s all it takes for him to line up with my entrance, his lips connecting with mine as he slowly pushes in.
i whimper against his lips, his cock stretching me with a stinging sensation with every inch that he pushes in, and he stills, opening his eyes to peer down at me.
“are you okay?” he asks softly, petting hair out of my face gently as he speaks.
“mhm,” i nod, hands grasping at his back, “keep going.”
he does as i say, this time giving shallow thrusts in order to work himself in slowly, only taking what my body allows him until he can finally sink into me entirely. by the time he’s completely in, the stinging pain has subsided, making way for blissful pleasure, but he still stops to check again.
after my reassurance, he picks up again, thrusting properly, but still slowly. his lips press back against mine, kissing me with raw passion and love.
“faster.” i whisper against his lips.
his hips speed up into fast, deep strokes, a hand snaking down to grip my waist. my moans carry through the room, conjoining with the sounds of sex and his hips slapping against mine as my leg hooks around his waist.
gripping his back, my nails scratch into his skin, earning a groaned whine from my boyfriend as his face buries into my neck, his thrusts gaining a harshness that they hadn’t held before.
“say you love me.” he gruffs against my skin, so low that i almost didn’t hear him.
“i love you,” i breathe out, “i love you, i love you, i love you.”
his lips connect with my collarbone, each kiss broken up by a single confession of love muttered from his tongue.
i can feel the knots forming in my stomach again, like a ball of yarn tangling and tangling, further tying together with each thrust of his hips. the tip of his cock smacks against my g-spot, my back arching from the mattress as i make a particularly loud cry.
“right there!” i tell him in a broken sob.
he smirks against my skin, angling his hips just right before thrusting back in to hit the spot again. now with each stroke, my orgasm builds even quicker, my nails scratching down his back.
my walls clench around him, making him grunt into my neck, and he picks his head up to kiss my lips, his thrusts becoming quicker and slowly losing rhythm.
“i’m close,” he mumbles, “so close.”
i nod in agreement, “me too.”
his hand slides between us, his thumb finding its way to my swollen clit, and he begins rubbing harsh circles into it, making my hips jolt, my breath catching i’m my throat.
“cum for me, angel,” he whispers, “let go.”
i nod, for what i’m not sure, but my body tenses up underneath him, walls tightening around his cock as he continues to thrust, and my eyes roll back, legs shaking as i come undone around him.
he fucks me through my orgasm, kissing me through my heavy breathing as his thrusts speed up, becoming sloppier and sloppier as he chases his high until he finally stills. his hips stutter as he grunts, releasing into the condom.
his body collapses on mine, the grounding weight bringing me back down to earth as we both pant in uneven breaths, our chests rising and falling rapidly.
we lay in silence for several minutes, enjoying the serenity of the quiet until he rolls off of me, slipping out from inside me.
“that was…” he trails off and i giggle, nodding my head.
“why did i wanna wait again?” he laughs at my response, shaking his head.
“i’m glad we did,” his fingers trail over my stomach, drawing shapes in my skin. “it was worth the wait, and i think knowing we love each other just made it more special.”
i hum in agreement, wrapping my hand around his before lifting it to my lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles.
he presses a kiss to my cheek before getting up to dispose of the condom. pulling on a pair of sweatpants, he assures me that he’ll be right back before leaving the room, reappearing a few minutes later with a granola bar and a water, along with a damp washcloth.
“head up,” he coos holding the water to my lips, and i let him help me take a few sips before he hands me the granola bar.
he cleans me up, my body shaking as he runs the cloth through my sensitive core, as i eat the snack, resting the wrapper on his nightstand.
he rifles through his dresser, coming back to the bed with a pair of of boxers and a t-shirt, and he helps me into them before climbing into the bed beside me. he pulls me back into him, his nose burying into the side of my neck as he kisses the back of it.
“i love you.” he tells me, arm winding around my stomach as he spoons me, my back to his chest.
my eyes feel as heavy as lead, but my heart races at his words, my entire world shifting into a golden state.
“i love you too.” i repeat, immediately followed by a heavy yawn.
“go to sleep, angel,” he hums and i can feel his eyelids flutter closed against my skin, “i’m right here.”
and with his reassurance and the feeling of his body pressed to mine, i allow by body to shut down, my breathing evening out as i fall asleep.
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yeollie-plz · 5 months
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12 Days Of Pedromas ‘23
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Starting December 14th, I am going to be doing a post everyday until Christmas to celebrate Pedro and the holiday season!
Extra info here!
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Day One: Hate sex with Costar! Pedro Pascal
Day Two: Virgin! Reader x dbf! Joel Miller
Day Three: 3some with Frankie Morales and a special guest
Day Four: Phone sex with Pedro Pascal
Day Five: Wedding night and breeding kink with Joel Miller
Day Six: Cockwarming with Din Djarin
Day Seven: Pool Sex with Exhibitionist! Agent Whiskey
Day Eight: Lactation Kink! Joel Miller
Day Nine: Stripper! Reader x Javier Pena
Day Ten: Pegging with Oberyn Martell
Day Eleven: One night stand with Frankie Morales
Day Twelve: Rough sex with Din Djarin
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Make sure to keep an eye out for all the posts and enjoy reading! 😉
Main Pedro Masterlist
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stayteezdreams · 4 months
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Mistletoe Mischief
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Plot: Yunho takes every opportunity he can to kiss you under the mistletoe, even if that means him following you around with it.
Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Gn!Reader
Warnings: Kissing (obvs). Mention of wrists being held down (in playful and romantic way)
Words: 1.4k
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As you stared into the cupboard, deciding what you wanted to eat, you failed to hear the soft footsteps creeping up behind you. Grabbing a small bag of your favorite chips, you closed the cupboard and turned around, jumping in surprise.
Yunho stood directly behind you, amused grin on his face and hands behind his back. You let out a sigh of annoyance as you placed your and on your chest.
"What are you sneaking up on me for?"
You rose your brow as he continued to smile at you in silence, mischief in his gaze.
Slowly, he brought his hand out from behind his back as he stepped forward to corner you against the counter. Seeing the mistletoe in his hand, you almost rolled your eyes as you barely refrained from chuckling.
"Yunh-"
Before you could get anything else out, he suddenly swooped down and kissed you. You grunted in surprise as you pushed him away, letting out a bewildered chuckle.
"Yunho, stop!" You failed to sound serious as you giggled at his actions.
Yunho chuckled as well as he tried to kiss you again. Successfully dodging his attacks you dipped underneath his arm and ran out of the kitchen with a laugh, Yunho grinned to himself as he watched you flee.
You shook your head in amused annoyance at Yunho's actions. That had been the fourth time he kissed you under the mistletoe. Apparently the first time after you hung it in the doorway was not enough for him. As he decided to instead, carry it around with him and kiss you whenever he wanted, often catching you by surprise.
The second time had been when you were reading something on your phone. You felt him tap your shoulder and when you looked up, he kissed you, mistletoe in hand and grin on his face.
The third time was about half an hour ago, when you had exited the shower, only to be suddenly scooped into his arms and kissed again.
His actions were undoubtedly cute, and quite romantic, but you knew he had no intention of stopping, which meant it would become more of a nuisance the longer it went on.
Not long later, you encountered him again. As you headed down the hall, Yunho stepped out from his office and blocked your path.
You locked eyes for a moment before you quirked your brow, "What?"
"What?" He repeated, innocence in his tone you knew you couldn't trust.
You squinted suspiciously at him before you tried to walk past, only for him to step in front of you. Stepping to the other side, he only followed suit. After this repeated two more times you huffed.
"What are you doing?"
He grinned happily, "You have to pay the tax."
"Tax?"
He nodded, as he pulled out the mistletoe. You bit you lip to repress the smile that threatened to form.
"Yunho." You kept your tone level, serious.
"Y/n." He repeated in the same tone.
You closed your eyes as you let out a soft breath, "You're ridiculous."
He grinned as he tilted his head sideways, "I know but you love me."
You shook your head as your smile broke out. "Fine."
After quickly leaning up to kiss him, you made your way past him before he could stop you again. You could hear his soft chuckle as you disappeared down the hall.
His attacks continued for the next couple of hours as he surprised you with the mistletoe at any opportunity he could. When you were reading, eating, when you were on the phone, any time you walked into the room he was waiting around the corner.
Finally, when he had his own phone call to take, you spotted the mistletoe on the table and quickly grabbed it. Hiding it in the washing machine, you figured he wouldn't find it. You smiled to yourself as you sat down on the couch and began scrolling on your phone.
It wasn't long before you spotted Yunho entering the room, confused look on his face as he obviously scanned the living room for the mistletoe.
He checked the table, then the couch, then the kitchen before he walked past again, patting his pockets.
"Lose something?" You asked as casually as you could as you watched him searching.
He met your eye, and obviously did not suspect you as you appeared genuinely curious.
He shook his head, "Nope."
You rose your brow, "Okay."
His lack of suspicion did not last as he appeared a few minutes later. "Did you hang the mistletoe up somewhere?"
You met his eyes and shook your head, "No, you're the one whose been carrying it around with you all day."
He hummed under his breath as he casually walked over to you on the couch.
He eyed you closely and you stared at him, "What?"
Reaching over to you, he started feeling your pockets and reaching into your sweater sleeves.
"Yunho!" You said with a laugh while attempting to swat him away.
Finally, he moved to check in between the couch cushions and under the pillows.
He let out a sigh before he placed his hands on your shoulders. "Where is it?"
You shook your head innocently, "I don't know."
He glared half-heartedly as he brought his hands to your sides, "I'll give you to the count of three."
"I don't have it Yunho."
"One..."
"Two..."
"Three!"
As he reached three he began squeezing and tickling your sides, causing you to drop your phone and desperately try to protect yourself. As you laughed and yelled out in alarm, Yunho continued his attack before you finally yelled out.
"Fine! Fine! I hid it, but I'm not telling you where it is!"
Yunho laughed as he stopped tickling you, instead pressing his forehead against yours.
"Is that so?"
You nodded your head, and he only grinned wider. Adjusting himself so he was sitting on top of you, caging you against the couch, you saw a familiar mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"What are you doing?"
He leaned forward, bringing his mouth next to your ear. "I don't need mistletoe to kiss you."
Suddenly he began kissing you everywhere. Neck, cheek, nose, forehead, and lips.
You failed to hold back your giggles from the onslaught of kisses, failing to push him away as he grabbed and held your wrists.
"Yunho!" You yelled out in a fit of giggles, causing him to finally stop after placing one last kiss to your lips.
You leaned forward, pushing your face into his chest in case he started again. He laughed as he held you against him instead, placing one last kiss on the top of your head.
After a moment of silence he spoke again, "Did it really bother you that much? The mistletoe?"
Pulling away from him and leaning your head back back on the couch you smiled up at him and shook your head. "No, you've just been bombarding me with it so much I thought I'd get back at you a bit."
He pouted dramatically as he gently held your hands. You laughed and shook your head.
"You can't have it back until tomorrow. And I'm limiting the kisses to ten!"
He leaned back as he sighed dramatically making you giggle.
"Only ten?" He asked softly with a pout as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours again.
His puppy dog eyes shined brightly as you rolled your eyes, but gave in. "Okay, fifteen."
"Hmmm, how about fifty?"
"Fifty!?" You laughed.
"What?! Don't I normally kiss you a lot more than fifty times a day?"
You shook your head and he frowned. "Really? I gotta up my boyfriend game then."
You laughed as you gently smacked his shoulders. "You do, but not with the mistletoe."
He grinned as he placed a soft kiss to your lips. "Okay. So... fifteen kisses with the mistletoe, and unlimited without?"
You laughed before groaning, "You're impossible."
He chuckled as he settled on the couch beside you, wrapping you in his arms and pressing his face into your neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you held him close.
"Guess what?" He mumbled a moment later.
"What?"
As he shuffled around a bit, you watched as he suddenly held something up.
"Wha-"
He chuckled into your neck as he dangled the mistletoe playfully, "I found it a long time ago."
You groaned as you lied your head back on the couch, only for him to reach his hand around the back of your neck and make you look at him. He held the mistletoe above your head as he grinned mischievously.
"The fifteen limit doesn't start until tomorrow right?"
xx End xx
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happilyhertale · 4 months
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Warmth on a cold night – Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader
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Summary: Soaked and frozen through, you and Daemon seek shelter in an inn. You are lucky and there is still a room – but you have to share a bed together.
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader
Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Sex (p in v)
Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:
Word count: 1.6 k
Other stories of mine
12 days of smuff
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In the midst of a storm, your coat clings tightly to your body and forms a weak barrier against the relentless wind. The hood wraps around your face, like a shield against the icy sting of the weather. Beside you, Daemon trudges on stoically, mimicking your efforts to ward off the biting cold.
Lights appear in the distance, like a beacon of refuge. No great words need to be exchanged between you, your steps take you towards the welcoming light.
Without a word, Daemon swings open the door of the tavern as you reach it and holds it open for you. Without hesitation, you enter the warm parlour. The door closes behind you and Daemon stops near you. He leads you further into the room and, as you remove your hood, the lively scene unfolds – a sea of people engaged in animated conversation, accompanied by laughter, fills the air.
Daemon walks to the counter and you instinctively follow him, but the allure of the crackling fire next to the counter catches your attention. You approach the flames and seek relief for your frozen limbs, your eyes fixed on the dancing flames.
But Daemon interrupts your reverie with a low growl and catches your eye. His silver hair, which he has freed from the confines of his hood, seems to light up the room.
"What's going on?" you ask as he stands next to you.
With a murmur, he tells you the news, "They have one room left," he admits, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, "but only with a single bed."
A subtle nod on your part acknowledges the predicament, and you focus back on the mesmerising fire. Before the warmth can fully penetrate your body, the landlady appears behind you and leads you to the only available room.
Once again, you don't hesitate for long and enter when she opens the door for you. You exchange a smile with the friendly lady before Daemon follows you in. The room is modestly furnished, but is quickly dominated by Daemon's imposing presence. A fire flickers in the corner, the warmth of which elicits an involuntary sigh of contentment from you.
The cold has made your fingers stiff, but you don't let it stop you from taking off your wet clothes. Daemon immediately realises that your fingers are starting to open your coat.
"What are you doing?" he mumbles as you place your coat next to the fire.
"Well... I'm soaking wet, and I'm definitely not going to bed in wet clothes," you say and start to undo your dress.
He mumbles, "So it's already decided," and starts to open his coat.
You look at him questioningly, "What?" comes out of your mouth.
Daemon's eyes meet yours and he takes off his coat. He approaches you to place his coat next to the fire as well.
"Well, you're going to sleep in the bed," he says, standing close to you.
"Yes..? And what would be wrong with that?" you ask him.
He smiles slightly, "Well... There's nothing wrong with that. But it's a single bed and.." but you interrupt him.
"Don't be ridiculous, we can both fit in there," you say and push your dress down. You bend down to pick up the dress, not noticing how Daemon briefly scrutinises your body in your vest.
As you place your dress next to the fire, you hear Daemon mumble something unintelligible. But without another word, you walk over to the bed and lie down in it. You watch Daemon lightly as he puts his shirt and trousers next to the fire. He comes over to the bed in his undergarments and stands in front of it.
"I sleep on the wall side of the bed," Daemon mumbles, climbing into the bed behind you. At first he tries to lie on his back – but the size of the bed makes it impossible, and before he crushes you with his body and your legs continue to fight for more space, he turns round. You are still lying on your back, Daemon's gaze fixed on you. "Turn round," he murmurs.
You look to the side and your eyes meet, in the room that is only bathed in a soft light from the small fire in the corner.
"Why?" you ask quietly.
"Do as you're told for once," he murmurs and you feel his large hand grab you and turn you round with a purposeful movement, accompanied by your gasp.
For a moment, you don't dare breathe as you feel his body right behind you. The heat radiating from his body, his warm breath on the back of your neck. There must be some truth to the warmth of the dragons that lies dormant in the Targaryens.
But your thoughts are interrupted when you feel a certain warmth on your bum. His crotch isn't really pressing against you, but you can still feel the warmth spreading through your abdomen. Slowly, you start to move your hips slightly.
A slight grumble sounds behind you, causing you to bite your lip. As your ass bumps lightly against his crotch, you startle yourself briefly, but are encouraged to keep moving by the repetitive grumble. When your movement doesn't stop, his hand suddenly grabs your hip again.
"Stop that," Daemon growls behind you and a smirk forms on your lips.
"Stop what?" you whisper almost innocently and try to move your hips again, but his hand has a firm grip on you.
"You're playing with fire..." he growls. With the next movement, you feel yourself pushing against a hard resistance that wasn't there a moment ago.
"Well... I like it warm," you whisper. The pressure against his hardness increases as you let your bum circle slightly.
"You're unbearable," he grunts.
"And you're..." but you can't finish the sentence. With another purposeful movement, he suddenly lies on top of you and spreads your legs. You gasp slightly and your eyes suddenly open wide.
"You like warmth? Well, let's give you the heat then," he grumbles and presses his face into your neck.
"Daemon," you say, but then you shudder as his teeth and lips brush over the exposed skin of your neck. As his hand reaches between your legs, you gasp again, whimpering as his fingers find your heat.
"Daemon..." you try again, but you don't sound convincing. A whimper escapes you as he slides his fingers through your folds. But before you can protest any further, Daemon suddenly kisses you. The kiss is almost tender and surprises you. You would never have thought that the Rogue Prince's lips, never embarrassed to release an inappropriate remark, could feel so gentle.
But you are even more surprised when he starts to press his hardness rhythmically against you. He grinds against your warm core, and you whimper into his mouth and begin to move your hips to his rhythm. He grunts slightly and starts to pull his undergarments down so far that his cock pops free. With a whimpering protest from you, his fingers leave your warm core and grip his hot length. A cheeky grin graces his lips as he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds and you moan out.
The silence of the small room is further disturbed by your moans as he rubs the tip over your sensitive pearl. Almost greedily, you thrust your hips towards him as he slides along your entrance. The tip of his leaking member grazed your folds as it nestled against your eager entrance and with the next rhythmic movement, he complies with your request and slides inside you.
The stretching for you and the tightness for him makes you both moan. The deeper he penetrates, the more overwhelming the warmth and tightness of your damp walls become, a loud grunt goes through the room. But he pushes further and stretches you inch by inch.
You whimper and moan, giving in to the sensation of his hips thrusting harder. With every rut of his hips, he elicits a sweet sound from you. He grunts as he looks at you, watching your face directly, every time he slides out, memorising every pleasurable expression you make every time he hits the right spot deep inside you again.
Driven by your heels digging into the back of his thighs, Daemon grabs the back of your thigh before thrusting into you at a furious pace. You moan into his mouth as his lips crash onto yours. But a stifled grunt escapes Daemon as you move your hips faster and slide over his length. The way your damp walls grip his shaft and draw him inside until his throbbing tip is pressed against your cervix has captured his attention completely. You are so needy, leaking all over his cock.
The heat floods through you and you feel him stimulating exactly the right places inside you with every thrust.
"Daemon..." you whimper and he feels your cunt clench around his cock. He buries himself in you up to the hilt, he wants to hear you scream. His balls slap against your bum, completely covered in your wetness. The grunts and moans are now accompanied by your outcry and your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your fingers dig into his biceps and you moan loudly as the heat floods through your body.
Daemon can't help but grunt and thrusts hard a few more times before he clothes your warm, contracting walls in white. You kiss again and his thrusts slowly subside. Your heavy breathing echoes through the small room as Daemon slowly rolls off you. But before you can waste a thought on whether things might get awkward between you, Daemon pulls you into his arms.
"Warm enough?" he mumbles and you swear you can hear him smile.
"You're unbearable," you whisper, but you close your eyes and snuggle up to him – filled as well as enveloped by his warmth.
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aemondsbabe · 5 months
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Love is Patient and Kind
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summary: hand holding & dry humping || you aren't ready to take the next step with your monk, luckily for you he has the patience of a saint
pairing: osferth x f!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dry humping, very fluffy, osferth being cute and understanding and ruining other men for everyone, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 2.5k
a/n: welcome to day one of 12 days of smuff!! hope y'all enjoy this one! Can be read as part 1 to Wind’s Howling or as a stand alone!
12 days of smuff masterlist
gif creds to @thecruel!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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“Are you sure you do not wish for me to carry that, my lady?” Osferth asks for the millionth time, nodding his head at the basket, laden with various herbs and medicinal plants, in the crook of your elbow. 
For the millionth time, you merely shake your head with a crooked smile. “I wish only for your company, monk,” you glance over at him as the two of you walk through the forest, admiring the way the early afternoon sun casts a golden halo through his hair, “I told you as much when we left camp this morning.”
Osferth merely nods in reply; your man is one of few words. A soft blush blooms across your cheeks at the thought – your man, but it was as good as true. Osferth was the first man in Uhtred’s company you felt comfortable with when you joined their cause all those months ago when they’d stopped in your small hamlet in need of a healer; you’d been by their side ever since.
In the months since, your relationship with the monk had steadily grown from hushed whispers around the campfire in the dead of night, when sleep eluded the both of you, to heated glances, delicate touches, and stolen kisses. More recently, Osferth had all but insisted on accompanying you nearly everywhere you went, which is how he’d come to follow you as you walked through the forest to gather the variety of curative plants you need.
A content sigh passes your lips as you tilt your head up, taking in the way the tips of the trees stretch up toward the blue sky. “I had almost forgotten what the sun looked like,” you joke, your heart squeezing proudly in your chest as the monk chuckles next to you, “But hopefully this summer will be dryer than the last.”
“I have prayed many times for sun,” Osferth says with a nod, blue eyes soft as he gazes at you, “Unfortunately, the Lord seems to ignore those requests.” The corner of his lips tilts up as he huffs a laugh at his own joke. 
Suddenly, a branch snaps loudly not too far off the winding path the two of you have been strolling down. Osferth acts quickly, ever vigilant, and takes your hand to usher you behind him as he draws his sword. Your breath quickens as you peek around his shoulder, pressing yourself tightly against his back as your hand grips his; you’d been assured by Uhtred’s scouts that the forest surrounding camp was perfectly safe, but in these times danger seemed to creep up from every corner. 
A buck appears a little ways down the path, followed by two more deer, each sparing you and the monk only a quick glance before scampering into the forest once more. The two of you let out a collective sigh of relief as Osferth sheaths his sword with a shy smile. 
“Perhaps now would be a good time for a break, my lady?” He suggests with a soft smile, “We’ve been walking since morning.”
“I think we’ve earned a break,” you nod, gazing up at him through your lashes, the two of you still close enough that you could make out soft flecks of green in his blue eyes, “I believe I saw a clearing a few paces back.” 
“Lead the way.” Osferth nods, keeping in pace with you as you backtrack to where you’d spotted a lush clearing through the trees only moments ago. As you walk, nearly shoulder to shoulder, the monk silently takes your hand again, his rough fingers threading together with yours. Neither of you speaks, though you can nearly feel his pleased smile from your periphery, twin to your own. 
After only a few moments, you veer off the path as the two of you step into a sizable glade, the trees giving way to a field of tall grass. Your hands stay clasped as you walk together, basket still tucked in your elbow as you lift the skirts of your linen gown to prevent it from snagging on the high blades of grass; your chest tightens once more when you glance down and notice how Osferth takes great care to step over any flowers in his path, the ones that sprinkle the meadow with pops of yellow and lilac. 
Soon, you come to a spot where the ground seems to be drier, however the monk grasps your forearm to stop you as he slips the thin, grey wool cloak off his shoulders and drapes it over the ground.
“Osferth,” you gently admonish, though a smile does creep across your lips at the sweet gesture, “I am perfectly capable of sitting on the ground.”
“A lady should not have to,” he says simply, nodding to the cloak, “Please.”
With a final glance, and a good-natured roll of your eyes, you comply, setting your basket down before relaxing atop his robe. After making sure you’re settled, the monk joins you, setting his sword to the side as he sits and leans back on his hands, scanning the treeline. 
“It’s so lovely here…” you smile as you glance around, a soft breeze causing the grass to rustle around you.
Osferth sits up beside you, a relaxed smile on his lips as he takes your hand and pulls you closer to him. “I find the company to be far lovelier,” he whispers before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, never taking more than you seem keen to give. The two of you easily fall into a lazy rhythm, your lips moving together as he guides you to lie against his chest. You lay your hand against his chest, right over his heart, thankful that he’s forgone his usual leather armor and chainmail today as you feel his warmth through the soft tunic he wears. 
He sighs against your lips, his fingers gently weaving into the locks of hair at the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and making you cling to him all the more tightly, his other hand wrapping around your waist before settling in the small of your back, holding you to him. 
After a few moments, the two of you part to catch your breath and he studies you with a warm gaze as you relax against his chest. “We are meant to be stopping in a town tonight.” Osferth says simply. 
“That we are.” 
���We could get a room together,” he breathes, making you gasp as he trails kisses across your jaw, “Just the two of us.” 
Immediately, you tense up and untangle yourself from him, sitting up with a sigh. He quickly sits up next to you and you can feel him eyeing you with concern, though you dare not meet his gaze. 
“My lady, I didn't mean to offend you…” He says hesitantly, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
“You didn’t offend me, sweet monk,” you turn to him with a bashful smile, “I am simply…I don’t know if i’m ready.” 
“Ready for what?” His head tilts to the side as he eyes you curiously. 
You chuckle nervously, unsure of how to broach the topic. “Osferth, I have heard enough tales of your…prowess around the campfire to know that my skills do not match your own.” 
The crease between his brows only deepens as he continues staring at you, blue eyes flitting between your own. “My prowess?” 
“With more…intimate relations…” You say slowly, glancing away from him. 
“Oh,” he says softly before his eyes widen comically, a dark blush cascading over his fair cheeks, “Oh!”
You can’t help but laugh softly at his dumbstruck expression, your lips quirking up into a soft smile despite your nerves. 
The hand on your shoulder tightens as he leans closer to you. “My love, you need not fret over it,” he whispers, blue eyes conveying a deep seriousness, “We can get a room at the tavern and not do anything at all.”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion – you’ve always been told to expect a very different answer from men. “What?”
He huffs out a soft laugh and pulls you back down to lie on the grass with him once more. “I mean what I say,” he says softly, one hand stroking your hair, “We can get a room and just kiss or cuddle or merely talk, I don’t care.” You look up from where you’ve had your cheek laying against his chest, the emotion in his eyes shocking you for a second, “I just want to be with you.” He whispers finally.
You can feel yourself blushing as he speaks, the apples of your cheeks heating up deliciously under his kind gaze. A girlish giggle erupts from your lips before you can stop it, which only makes him laugh too as you bury your head against his chest and bite your lip, breathing in his familiar scent of leather and campfire smoke. 
After a moment, the two of you calm down and you finally look back up at him, “Kissing sounds good…” you nearly whisper, suddenly shy as he surveys your face.
Osferth merely chuckles, low in his throat, and rolls the two of you over. Normally, this is when you’d be pushing any other man off of you with some mumbled excuse, but you can’t help but feel safe with the sandy haired monk, taking him at his word that whatever you were willing to give would be enough.
“We have time, and plenty of herbs already,” he rasps, his voice thick with an arousal you’d only heard on a very scant few occasions when the two of you had shared frantic kisses in the night once the rest of the men were asleep, “Why wait until tonight?”
A small giggle escapes you once again as the blush on your cheeks extends down, almost all the way to your chest, but you nod nonetheless, your arms coming up to snake around his neck as you pull him down to you. A small whimpery breath escapes you when his lips touch yours yet again, and he responds in kind with a low groan, the sound rumbling from his chest. His lips are soft against your own as the two of you move leisurely; once again, he lets you set the pace, only licking at your bottom lip after you do the same to him first. 
Your thighs spread as your kiss deepens and you moan again when he slots himself between your thighs, the linen of your dress hiked up just above your knees. A shiver rolls through you at the feel of him on top of you, so warm and weighty.
“Is this alright?” He breathes, navy eyes blinking between each of yours as he checks for any signs of discomfort from you, visibly relaxing when he finds none.
Wordlessly, you nod, bobbing your head eagerly as you pull him back down. His hands roam carefully over your body as your lips and tongues move together, breathlessly licking into each other's mouths. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hardness pressing against your center, a pleased hum emanating from your chest at the realization that you’ve affected him this much with only a kiss; the pride in your heart twists into something different, something deeper as a knot forms and begins tightening in your belly.
“My lady –” Osferth mumbles as he starts to pull away from you, an apologetic smile on his handsome face.
“Don’t!” You say quickly, tugging him back to you and surprising even yourself as you wrap your legs around his trim waist, “Please, I – It’s good.” You confirm breathlessly, eyebrows quirked up with need as you look up at him through your lashes. 
“Yeah?” He asks, unable to wipe the pleased grin off his face as he settles back on top of you, careful to keep most of his weight off of you as he presses against your center again.
You nod, already threading your fingers into the short hair at the back of his head to draw his lips back to yours. A breathy, high-pitched moan leaves you at the feel of his clothed length pressing against you, the ties at the front of his breeches only adding to the pleasurable sensations that zap through you as he starts rolling his hips against your own.
His pace quickens as he breaks away from you, panting against your skin as he traces wet kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your head lolls to the side as you whimper and whine underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel his hard cock twitch against you, even through the fabric of your smallclothes.
You’re quick to match his pace, using the leverage of your legs wrapped around his middle to ruck yourself up into each thrust, earning grunts of pleasure from the monk. 
“My lady,” he groans, one hand fisting into your hair as the other trails down to run appreciatively over the bare skin of your thigh, “Y-You are bewitching.” He gasps, mouthing at your neck, his cock no doubt leaking into the leather of his trousers. 
Your only reply is a choked out moan of his name as your back arches underneath him, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter as the ties of his breeches rub over your pearl deliciously, your smallclothes no doubt soaked. 
Blessedly, Osferth seems to understand the desperation in your voice and movements and pulls back to look at you, both of his hands quickly grasping yours, fingers threading together as he holds them to the earth beside your head.
 “Sweet girl,” he grunts as he gazes down at you, a rosy blush cascading beautifully over his high cheekbones, “P-Peak, my lady, please,” he pants as his fingers tighten against your own, “I’m, God be good, I’m right behind you.”
You nod frantically, your only sound a choked out sob as you tense underneath him when his hips rut perfectly against yours, the knots of his pants catching against your sensitive bud in just the right way to tip you over the edge. You twitch underneath him, white knuckling his hands when you feel your center clenching helplessly around nothing as pleasure buzzes through you. 
Osferth reaches his end mere seconds after you, humping against you two or three more times before tensing, his eyes squeezing shut as his own high washes over him, cock spasming in his breeches as his spend leaks into the waiting fabric. 
“You’re beautiful,” you declare softly, the words tumbling from your lips as soon as you think of them.
The monk blushes somehow more heavily above you, though a soft smile graces his lips. With a soft sigh, he falls to his side, bringing you with him. Your cheek once again finds its home against his chest and you smile at the sound of his heart thumping wildly as he pulls you closely to him, one arm wrapping protectively around you as he tucks the other under his head, letting his eyes flutter shut.
“You flatter me, my lady,” he says lowly, a pleased rasp to his voice. “You are truly an angel,” he continues after a moment, “A beautiful, precious angel.”
You smile contentedly, his heart thudding steadily in your ear as you let your eyes drift shut, happy to stay in this still, safe bubble with your monk for as long as the outside world will allow.
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mrsriddlenott · 5 months
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The Fourth Day Of Smutmas
[smutmas masterlist] [main masterlist]
~ Santa Clause Is Coming To Town ~
Klaus Mikaelson x fem!Vampire Reader
Summary: When Klaus mysteriously returns from New Orleans, the Mystic Falls gang worries about what he’s planning, though his only plan is to convince you to join him for Christmas in The Big Easy, by any means necessary. Starting with lavish gifts, attention, and affections, and ending with his mouth wherever you wish it.
- Klaus is obsessed but not in a creepy way, vampire reader, platonic Damon x Reader & Stefan x Reader -
Warnings: 18+ Content!!Spoiling(gift giving, promises etc),ig kinda manipulation if you squint,f!Receiving Oral.
It was no secret that when Klaus first came to Mystic Falls he had only one thing on his mind, breaking his curse. But when he first saw you from behind the eyes of Alaric, he knew there was….something….so he of course ignored it. By the second time he came around you knew all about him and he you, something about you lingered with him, leading him to look into your past which only hooked him on further.
He was a forward man, anything he wants he goes for, so naturally he was hounding you left and right for the better part of year while him and his siblings ran rampant in your town. Though you were mysteriously never hurt, mentally or physically, something that didn’t go unnoticed by you. By the time Klaus was told of a plot against him in New Orleans, you were ready to accept him, his faults and all, and before he reluctantly left, you shared a heated kiss that stuck with the hybrid even all this time later.
Despite trying to disconnect himself and keep you safe from the enemies after his family and city, he couldn’t stop himself from calling you every once in a while, only feeding his desires to see you, feel you, smell you, for you. By the time Hope’s second Christmas started approaching, he realized she’d be starting to remember them soon, and decided you just had to be there so began planning to get you to enjoy the Holidays with him.
“Uh guys, you might….well you are gonna be upset but I need to tell you something,” Your voice was small and weak as you entered the main room of the Salvatore Boarding House where Stefan and Damon sat drinking bourbon. Damon, rude as usual, ushered you to speak faster as you tried to sputter out the words to tell them Klaus had left you a voicemail in the early hours of the morning to announce his eminent arrival.
“Well you see…” You were cut off by the sound of the large wooden door opening behind you allowing Klaus to saunter in with his usual air of confidence, swinging an arm over your shoulder with a smile that didn’t show his teeth, eyeing the brothers in front of him as though daring them to question his entry into their home.
“Oh come on….why the hell has Santa Klaus come to town,” Damon mocked, scoffing out a laugh as he chugged down the rest of his bourbon, standing from his seat, eyeing you with disappointment before returning his attention to the much stronger man, “We’re having one peaceful, happy, bullshit free Christmas this year and nowhere in that is the Original Hybrid needed,” Damon swayed his hands in a mocking manner as he spoke, he was coaxing him, he wanted to anger him and wanted to prove to you Klaus would rip his head off in a matter of seconds if it weren’t for you.
“Oh Damon,” Klaus sighed condescendingly with a shake of his head, “I’ve only come for y/n, she’s needed for my family’s….what’d you call it…” He feigned a questioning look as his eyes shifted around the room, “ah yes peaceful, happy, bullshit free Christmas, so if you don’t mind….”
“Woah woah woah, what do you mean? You can’t just swoop in and take y/n like she’s your property,” Stefan piped up, scoffing slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest despite Klaus’ eyebrows shot up his forehead to eye the much younger vampire.
“You are so dramatic,” Klaus laughed with a smile that didn’t meet his eyes, clearing his throat before continuing, “I haven’t come to kidnap her, I’ve come to ask her you idiot, and even if I had planned to walk in here and take her….neither of you could stop me.” Klaus was never fond of you living with the Salvatores, especially Damon, but he also recognized their close bond to you and their obvious love for you. He wouldn’t hurt them unless they hurt you, he knew you would never forgive him for that and he just would not stand for that.
With a roll of your eyes you tugged Klaus’ hand, pulling him down the hall away from the brewing argument and toward your large bedroom. “Why’s this room so close to Damon’s?” Klaus’ narrowed, distrusting eyes seemed to search the room and hallway before shutting the wood against the frame and turning back to you.
“He likes to be closer so he can hear if somethings happening faster….he’ll deny that though,” you chuckle awkwardly, you hadn’t been alone with Klaus in almost two full years. Your eyes fell to his hands as he dig into his coat, tugging out a long, silver wrapped box with a golden bow on top, so neatly done that you were sure he had compelled someone to do it perfectly.
“I got you something, come here” He ushered you towards him with two of his fingers. His gravely, authoritative voice you loved so much sending shivers down your spine as you approached, unable to deny him of anything he asked of you in that tone. “There’s more waiting for you under my tree in New Orleans.” Klaus calmly stated, making you cringe slightly as you approached him, stopping only a foot in front of him before speaking.
“Look Nik, I’m sure that whatever that is is lovely and I’m sure all the others are too but if you’re only giving me that to get me to come back with you than I can’t accept it.” You sighed, meeting his eyes for only a second before watching your feet. Klaus stepped forward, almost pressing against you as the air grew warmer, gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes again, genuinely smiling down to you once you did.
“No Love….this is yours whether you come with or stay and if you don’t accept my invite I’ll bring the rest to you. Whatever happens to them after is up to you, leave them, open them, donate them, whatever you want,” His warm hand moved to yours, shoving his gift box into your palm as he watched you expectantly, your brows scrunched together as you narrowed your eyes at him before realizing he was being honest.
You tore through the paper cautiously with a smile, revealing the long black velvet box that opened to reveal a simple golden necklace with a simple wolf charm in the middle, “I usually go for diamonds but I know my girl well enough to know you’d prefer both,” he stated simply before pulling out another perfectly wrapped silver package, this time much smaller. You wasted no time in ripping through and opening the small box to reveal a ring with a thin silver band adorned with a large diamond.
Your eyes shot up to his as you removed the ring from it’s confines with a shocked expression, “Now I know what you’re probably thinking, but when I propose to you that rock will me much larger and,” As he waved a hand around your room with slight grimace on his face, “we’ll be in be a much more extravagant setting….Paris perhaps?”
“Nik….this is too much I….” You couldn’t form words as you looked between the pieces of jewelry, “I can’t accept these not when Hope is so young and Hayley she deser-“ Klaus laughs at your response, eyeing you as though to ask you a question simply with his eyes, before chuckling again with a soft apology.
“Do you really think I can’t get all my favorite girls their gifts? Trust me Hope and Hayley will have plenty of presents, in fact they’re next to yours right now, if you want to get going I’m sure you’ll see them.” Klaus waved his hand towards your door, looking to you expectantly as though waiting for you to walk out before him.
“I can’t just leave with you out of nowhere Klaus,” You sighed, setting your gifts down on your bedside table before rubbing at your eyes as the man stood in front of you again, waiting for a different response, “It- it’s not that I don’t want to okay….I just can’t.”
“Why not?” He asked, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion, his voice exasperated as he turned his hands up dramatically, “Come on what’s keeping you from leaving with me? I’ll keep you safe.” His voice was growing strained, he was beginning to plead with you now, grabbing at your sides as if to remind you of his ability to shield you from harm.
“My friends are here Klaus, the only real friends I’ve had for over a century, I’m not just leaving them” You spoke, narrowing your eyes to him as though asking him to reveal a hidden meaning before turning away from his touch and avoiding his pleading eyes by tiding your bed covers, adding in a small voice, “My friends who do not trust you with me by the way.”
“It’s not like you’ll never see them again, I’m not trying to hold you captive I’m trying to give you a nice Christmas.” You could hear in his voice that he was upset, he was losing patience and wanted, no needed, a flat out response, “Love, please I’m practically begging on my knees here”
“Maybe you should be on your knees,” you joked under your breath without thinking about the mans enhanced hearing well beyond yours or the vampires you’re usually around, only realizing your mistake when you turned to find his eyebrows that had shot up his forehead in surprise. His eyes trailed down your body and back up again, reading you to make sure he heard you correctly before speaking, “Sit.”
“Wha-“ His deep, dark eyes locked into yours in a silent order, halting your question before it was formed as you immediately flopped down on the bed behind you. Your wide eyes followed his actions as he slowly grew closer to the bed with purposeful steps, “You’ll be a Good Girl and tell me to stop when you don’t like what I’m doing won’t you?”
You nodded your head in understanding, putting a halt to his agonizingly slow steps as his head tilted to the side in a questioning and demanding stare, “Yes I will,” You stuttered, your throat beginning to dry, your head falling back to maintain eye contact as Klaus stopped in front of you, just to drop to his knees. His warm, rough hands surrounded your ankles, tugging them apart lightly to settle himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. He smelled intoxicating, his scent wrapping you in a blanket of comfort as his hands slowly rubbed up and down your legs, stopping just before the hem of your dress each time. “Please y/n. Will you please come to New Orleans for Christmas, it’ll make my year.”
“I don’t kneel for just anyone and I think you know that,” as he spoke it felt as though his power he prided above anything for 1,000 years began to seep out of him and into you, “You’re the only woman on this planet that I can’t get out of my head, I’ve had women on every continent drooling at my feet for the better part of a millennium but you, my Darling, are the only one I will ever drool over.” Your resolve was beginning to crumble, the feeling of his soft kisses to the top of your legs between words had you sighing in contempt, your confidence growing with each second.
“What can I do to get you to join me hm?” He punctuated himself with a kiss to the center of your thigh, moving his lips higher before he spoke again, “I’ll buy you anything, I’ll do anything.”
Your hand melted into his stawberry curls, watching his lips form a smile as he realized he’d won, “You seem to love using your mouth….so maybe start there.” His eyes shot to yours, chuckling to himself at your false dominance, he loved being in control and whether you realized it yet or not, he was.
Your back slammed against your mattress in less than a second, Klaus’ firm hand held against your stomach, using his hybrid strength to keep you down. He vibrated against you with pure energy, growling against the flesh of your thigh while kissing a trail to your core, eyes going a golden yellow as the scent of your arousal filled his senses. You leant up on your elbows to watch him, the feel of his prominent fangs that would scare almost anyone else scraping your skin with each featherlight kiss building an ache in your lower abdomen, the sense of danger was overwhelming, knowing that at any moment he could dig into you, infecting you with his venom just so he could taste you. The thought of him losing control and having to cure you from the toxin with his blood had you subconsciously tugging your lip between your own fangs that surfaced from your gums at the sight of him shoving your dress upward once his lips met it.
His fingers effortlessly slipped into your lace underwear, filling the room with the sound of ripping fabric before delving into you with his expert tongue, forcing your hips to jolt up against his hold on you, “Holy fucking shit,” Klaus immediately began drawing figure eights on your desperate clit, sighing in pleasure at just your taste and immediately needing more.
You were dripping for him, filling the room with the sound of your pleasure as he lapped against you, focusing on the strokes of his tongue against your center the same way he would a brush against art. Your high was fast approaching, faster than ever before, you wigged against his grip desperately trying to ease the growing tension in your body but he didn’t let up. Fingernails digging into your flesh as you legs shook, your eyes screwed shut, falling back onto the bed with a sigh of a moan attempting to will yourself to last longer, to prolong your pleasure as though you would never feel it again.
His strokes danced between your entrance and your puffy, needy clit he was beginning to adore, wishing to give you a teaser of what awaited you in his bed in his city. His lips sucked around you, egging on your moans of pleasure from above him until they turned into small whimpers and whines of need. Your mind was hazy, it’s only focus being the tickle of his beautiful hair against your thighs, the scratch of his stubble marking your flesh as his perfect, silver tongue pulled out the first of many shaking orgasms he would give you as his Queen.
“You taste absolutely amazing,” He pushed himself forward, weighing down the bed beside you as you tried to regain focus, “If you pack quickly you may get another gift before we leave.” He chuckled, smacking at your still exposed thigh before pulling you into a desperate kiss he’d waited far too long for.
~~~~
Not proud of this one smut wise but I think it’s super cute 🥰
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dailyreverie · 7 months
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Keep me warm
@flufftober - Day 12 Fire & ice
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word count: 861
CW: Angst due to mentions of Bucky's past
Flufftober masterlist
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If there was anything that you hated, was the thought of Bucky facing the cold. You knew how he played it off every time, always saying you are overreacting, but you knew him too well to know that his bones ached when the air got cold and that the chilly air against his face triggered memories he so desperately had tried to bury.
His mission had run longer than expected, he was supposed to be back hours ago and the temperature was dropping quickly, his phone was probably dead since he hadn’t made contact with you and you could only hope he was already on his way back - he had to be. Still, his unknown whereabouts were making you bite your nails as your gaze flickered from the TV to the door as your patience began to get thinner with every passing minute.
When the door unlocked and you got so much of a peak of his boots, you ran to him and dragged him inside, pulling him in a tight embrace where you felt the tension that had frozen his shoulders begin to disappear. “Hello to you too.” Bucky chuckled, watching you remove his gloves. His skin felt like ice, like the frost of a glass right before the liquid turned solid, like pressing your hands against a window when its cold outside.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Bucky said when you remained silent.
“That you are cold, that’s what I’m thinking.” You stayed firm, because you knew the minute you wavered around him, he would dismiss his own well-being. With his hand in yours you dragged him to the couch, maybe you didn’t have a fireplace but the nearby candles would have to work to warm him up.
“I’m oka-”
“Don’t say you are okay, I can feel you shaking.” You warned, looking into his eyes again. That’s when Bucky saw the concern. As you dragged candles close to his hands and rubbed his flesh hand in between yours, Bucky studied your caring moves that tried to bring some warmth back to him.
“Doll,” Bucky searched for your eyes, tipping his head to find them as they were busy looking at your hands. He called your name, and when you dropped his hands softly on the couch and averted your gaze to the side, he knew there was more to it. “Talk to me, please.” He urged.
“It’s ridiculous.” Your voice cracked.
“It’s not ridiculous if you are concerned about it.” He didn’t want to push you, but seeing you in such distress was making his stomach turn with worry.
“I just- I hate the idea of you being cold.” You confessed, your fingers fidgeting with each other as you did. “You were cold for a while.” Your voice was softer, not knowing Bucky’s reaction to your confession.
“I was cold for a while, baby. But not anymore, I promise.” His thumb tilted your chin up, the sadness in your eyes unexpectedly making him smile in pure adoration to you.
“I’ve seen you shaking at night when it gets cold, and the way your shoulder hurts too.” You tried pushing him away, suddenly feeling self-aware of the situation you had dragged yourself to. 
“Oh, doll.” Bucky whispered, his heart filling with warmth when he saw where your anguish was coming from.
“I told you it was ridiculous.”
“Look at me,” You did as he said, reluctantly so. When you met his eyes you couldn’t stop your hands from cupping his face; your touch felt like fire, not the kind that burns you, but the kind that warms the wood on a fireplace and keeps a home cozy, the kind that ignites a fire inside Bucky every time he realizes time and time again how much you love him.
Turning his head sideways he kissed the palm of your hand, not breaking eye contact with you. “It’s true that I hate the cold, I’ve always hated it, but what you are saying is far from ridiculous.” 
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, and the affection in his eyes never left. He lingered like that for a second, holding the space between you for a couple of seconds. “No one had cared for me the way you do, baby. You keep me warm, and every day you help me feel a little bit less cold than the last.” 
You felt your heart swell with love for the man before you. The candles flickered, casting warm, dancing shadows against his soft skin and around the room that now smelled like cinnamon and sugar.
He pressed his lips to yours, your fingertips traveling around his neck to keep him there, close to you with a kiss filled with gratitude and love; as your lips met his, you realized that this warmth, this love, was all you needed to banish the cold that had haunted Bucky for so long. You got lost in the kiss as it proved to make you both warm, Bucky taking no time to pull you under him to deepen the kiss, his hands exploring your body seeking the heat of your skin next to his. 
🦾🍂🦾🍂🦾🍂🦾🍂🦾🍂🦾🍂🦾🍂🦾🍂🦾🍂
Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!
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marvelobsessed134 · 4 months
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Want her to unwrap me
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This is part of my 12 days of fics. Merry Christmas Eve everyone!
Pairings: Dom!Wanda Maximoff x Sub!Fem!Reader
Warnings: light degradation, fingering, oral (r receiving), rough sex, vibrator use, mommy kink, squirting.
Summary: In which your girlfriend walks in on you singing an explicit version of Ariana Grande’s Santa Tell Me
You were cleaning the kitchen counters with Christmas music blasting through the Bluetooth speaker. Recently you’ve been obsessed with the original explicit version of Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande.
Little did you know, your girlfriend was just trudging through the door of your penthouse with bags of gifts for the other avengers.
As you sang the song, you changed the pronouns.
“Want her to unwrap me like oh ooh ooh.”
Those words struck Wanda like a lightning bolt to a metal pole. Hearing you sing such filthy lyrics during a season that was so wholesome, made her ever the more horny.
The witch sat the bags down on the floor before creeping up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. You jumped a bit, but relaxed knowing it was just Wanda.
“Hi baby.” You smile, letting her peck you on the cheek.
“Hi sweetheart. Interesting song you’ve got playing.” She purred and your face went beet red.
“Oh! Um- you didn’t hear all of it did you?” You asked, embarrassed.
She chuckled, “I sure did. So, do you want me to unwrap you?”
A couple minutes later you were in a Christmas ribbon lingerie set. It was red and connected by a halter. Had a big bow over the chest and a long ribbon covering your pussy like a pair of panties would.
You were standing against the kitchen island as Wanda had instructed you to. The witch was very fond of the scene before her.
“My, my. An early Christmas present? This all for me, baby girl?” She asked, her eyes wandering over your body making your pussy more damp.
“Yes mommy.” You whispered.
“Good girl.” She smashed her lips to yours, passionately making out with you. You moaned into her mouth, wrapping your arms around her neck as you kissed her back.
She pulled the ribbon off and groped and sucked on your nipples. “Fuck, mommy.”
Once she paid attention to both sides, she picked you up and laid you on the counter. She pulled the crotch of the lingerie to the side and dived into your soaked pussy. Licking and suckling on your folds and clit, and everywhere in between.
You gripped her hair as she ate you out, “Oh mommy.”
“Good girl, go ahead and cum for me.” Her voice was dark and sent you over the edge. You threw your head back and moaned as you released your juices all over her face.
“Good girl, oh taste so good for mommy. Bend over the counter now.” You quickly got off the counter and scrambled into position. You could see in your peripheral vision that the witch was pulling something out of her pocket.
“Todays a special day detka, because I got you an early Christmas present.” She put the small vibrator up to your clit and turned it on.
You jumped at the feeling and held onto the counter for dear life. You then felt her fingers teasing your entrance before pushing into you.
You moaned and cried out as she fucked you hard. “So tight, this little pussy was just begging for me wasn’t it?”
“Yes! Oh fuck Wanda!” She didn’t care that you used her name during sex, even though her title was mommy. It was just too hot hearing you moan her name.
“You gonna cum, slut? Gonna cum for the second time?” She rasped in your ear.
“Yes! Gone cum so hard! Ah-“ you cut yourself off, clenching around her fingers feeling overstimulated as you squirted all over the place.
“Holy fuck that’s hot!” Wanda groaned. Turning off the toy, she took her fingers out of you and turned you around.
“Open.” The redhead instructed and you obeyed, taking her fingers and sucking your cum off of them.
“Good girl. Cmon, let’s go wrap these presents.”
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msmoony7 · 4 months
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Baking Cookies with Sirius Black
Summary: you and Sirius make cookies for a holiday party with friends
word count: 460
12 days of fics
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“Sirius, you can’t keep eating all the dough!” you shout at your boyfriend who’s just staring back at you, frozen, with one hand on the bowl and the other scooping dough into his mouth. “I thought that I could leave you alone for five minutes while I got the cookie cutters from the closet!”
“Y/N, I’d like to think we’ve been dating long enough that you should know better than to trust me around the things you make. Especially the cookie dough,” he replies while he grabs another spoonful of dough and puts it into his mouth.
You rush over to him, look into the bowl, and gasp at the damage that he’s done.
“Sirius, this was a batch for 50 cookies! I can probably only make 20 with what's left!” you yell at him while laughing. 
“Oops,” he replies with a cheeky smile. He scoops more dough onto his spoon and begins raising it to his mouth before you quickly smack it from his hand. 
“No, out,” you yell at him. He pouts and gives you a peck on the cheek before walking out of the kitchen and into the living room to sulk. 
You roll the cookie dough into a flat sheet and begin cutting them with the cookie cutters. As the dough quickly dwindles down you laugh to yourself realizing that you got such a small amount of cookies out of the big batch that you initially prepared. You put the cut out cookies onto a sheet and pop them into the oven and set a timer for them. After, you grab the leftover cookie dough and put it into a bowl to bring to your boyfriend.
You walk into the living room and find him lying on the couch underneath a blanket watching something on the tv. He hears you walk in and he smiles mischievously at you. 
“I made 15 cookies with what you left me with,” you say as you sit down on the couch next to him, handing him the bowl of leftover dough.
He eagerly takes it from you and begins eating it. 
“Sorry, love. You can’t make the dough and not expect me to eat it all. Everyone else knows by now that they can’t expect many cookies to make it to the party.”
You let out a small laugh as Sirius opens up the blanket, pulls you down next to him, and wraps his arms around you. He presses a kiss against the back of your head as he pulls you in tight. 
“You know I’m gonna finish eating them once that timer goes off, right?” he mutters quietly.
You give him a small smack before quickly settling back into your position. Of course, you knew all along that he’d eat them all.
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ellemj · 5 months
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Making Sure: 12 Days of Smut #3 - Sex Pollen
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: Bucky is exposed to a sex pollen while the two of you are snowed in, stuck in a cabin in the Swiss Alps after finishing up a mission. Oh, and of course, you happen to be his ex-girlfriend.
Warnings: profanity, dubcon (sex pollen), possessive!Bucky, breeding kink, unprotected sex, mutual pining of sorts, some use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 4k
A/N: My laptop decided it didn't want to turn on today, and then when it finally turned on it didn't want to run any apps so 12 Days of Smut almost became 11 Days of Smut. But anyway, let me know if you guys like this one! For once, it doesn't involve anyone hating anyone or an obscene amount of unbearable tension (which I severely miss).
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            It’s not all that hard to work with your ex, not when you ended on decent terms. Well, as decent as they could have been. When Bucky broke up with you three months ago, it wasn’t completely out of the blue. You hadn’t been having any problems, you never had any fights, but you knew he was never as into the relationship as you were. He had said from the very beginning that he didn’t think he ever wanted a lifelong commitment. The majority of his life had been spent without having true freedom to make his own decisions. It’s safe to say the man only had about six years of making decisions for himself, between turning eighteen and joining the army. Then the army had a say in everything he did until he was taken by HYDRA. HYDRA controlled him for so long, and honestly, they still have some form of control over him if you consider his nightmares and insomnia issues. So, when things started to feel a little too serious between you two, when Bucky started to realize that he actually loved you, that’s when he called it off.
            You’d both agreed to keep the relationship between yourselves, remaining professional at work and around the others. Even Sam had never figured it out. Bucky was so good at keeping it hidden, staying completely stoic unless he was positive you were both alone. When things ended between you two, he became stoic all the time. There have been a few times where you’ve felt a bit angry with how easily he can just shut himself off and pretend like you never had anything between you. You think you might’ve been in love with him. How can you be stoic around him when you loved him? You can’t be. So, instead of being stoic, you’re just a little more quiet than usual. You get your job done, you speak to him as professionally as you can, and then you get away from him.
            Unfortunately though, there’s no getting away from him tonight. Technically, your mission is already over. You broke into HYDRA’s only remaining functional lab, you stole at least one sample of each of the various compounds that they were working on, and then you got the hell out of there. You made it all the way back to the safehouse, a small rustic cabin a little ways up in the Swiss Alps. It had been snowing for the last twenty-four hours that you’d been here, but the winter weather came to a head to today on your drive back from the break-in. By the time you got all of the samples safely inside the cabin, there was no way either of you could make the drive back down the mountain to reach the quinjet. You’re stuck here for the night.
            “I want them kept at a pretty low temperature overnight, well below thirty degrees.” Bruce has been watching you over a video call as you’ve been cataloging the samples and packing them safely into a padded case. “It’d probably be best to leave them all in the trunk of the car, since it’s so cold out there.” Bucky’s sitting in the living area while you’re working at the kitchen table, but he’s still listening in. He’s listened for the last half hour as you labeled the samples and hummed a little Christmas tune to yourself. Truthfully, he almost forgot that Christmas is in a few days until he heard you humming that song that you love so much. What was it? He can never remember the name, but he recognizes it from last Christmas. You sang it often and he was lucky enough to still be yours then, to still get the privilege of listening to you flit around the tower so festively, infecting everyone around with your cheerful spirit.
            “They all fit in the case except for one, but it should be fine. I’ll just stick it in the trunk next to the case and slip it into my bag tomorrow before we drive out.” You say, holding up the thin glass flask containing a very watery, clear liquid. It looks the least terrifying, out of all of the chemicals you retrieved from the lab today.
            “Good work today, we’ll see you guys back here tomorrow, if the weather permits.” Bruce gives a little wave before ending the video call. Just as you’re closing the heavy black case of samples, Bucky rises from his seat on the couch and joins you in the kitchen.
            “I’ll take them out.” He offers, staying a few feet away from you but at least making eye contact with you. He doesn’t seem to look at you very often since you broke up, but you can’t complain about it. It makes it a little easier to get over him when you’re not drowning in his blue eyes. You give him a curt nod before sliding the case across the table and then setting the sealed flask of clear liquid on top of it.
            “Try not to jostle them around too much, carry it with two hands.”
            “Got it, two hands.” Bucky repeats. You watch as he lifts the case, leaving the glass flask resting on the lid. You think about carrying the lone chemical out there in your own hands, worrying that Bucky might tip the case a little too far and let the flask fall to the ground outside, but you brush off the worry. He’s never been clumsy, and he sure as hell hasn’t ever been careless. It’ll be fine. It’s just a short walk from the front door to the back of the car.
            In retrospect, you should’ve listened to your instincts.
            When Bucky rushes in the front door only a minute after he’s stepped outside with the chemicals, a sickening feeling settles deep in your stomach. You quickly turn to the source of commotion as he slams the door shut behind him and starts nearly jogging across the cabin, heading straight for the bathroom at the end of the hall.
            “Bucky? What happened?” You call out, your feet carrying you down the hall after him. Bucky strips off his coat, dropping it on the floor in the hall before throwing the bathroom door open and ripping off his shirt. He doesn’t even close the bathroom door. You step over his coat and come to a stop in the doorway as he leans down and turns on the shower.
            “Stay back.” He warns, giving you a sideways glance that makes your stomach flip. “I slipped on a patch of ice and the little glass thing on top of the case fell and shattered. Whatever was in it evaporated quick, but I inhaled a lot of it. I don’t know if I got any on me.”
            Shit. This is not good. Bucky starts unbuckling his belt, but stops himself after he gets it undone, finally turning and looking you straight in the eye. Right. You’re not together anymore.
            “Only rinse, don’t use soap. We don’t know what the chemical was or what might interact with it.” You say, forcing your voice to sound calmer than you feel. Bucky nods, and then shuts the door between the two of you. Shit. You knew you should’ve carried that damn flask yourself.
---
            Half an hour later, after Bucky’s finished showering and is resting on the couch per yours and Bruce’s orders, he begins to feel something. He wanted to go to bed, just sleep it off and see how he felt in the morning, but you and Bruce insisted that he stay in the living room and awake so you could monitor him for any weird signs or symptoms. You miss the first few symptoms that Bucky begins to feel. First, his heart rate began picking up. It was so miniscule at first that even he didn’t notice it, but it increased more and more until he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Then, even in the chilly little cabin with a near-blizzard raging outside, Bucky began to feel hot. Hot to the point of wanting to take off everything he was wearing and go lay in the snow. Now he sits on the couch, breathing a little quicker than he was earlier, with beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck. It’s his increased respiratory rate that you notice first. Then, as you begin looking him over from your far away seat at the kitchen table, you see the way his cheeks are flushed and the way his dark gray t-shirt is beginning to stick to the sweat coming off of his back. Shit. Whatever it was that he was exposed to, it sure as hell wasn’t nothing.
            You’re just about to ask Bucky what he’s feeling when he abruptly stands from the couch and looks right at you, his gaze wild and pupils blown.
            “Bucky—” You start, but he cuts you off in an instant.
            “I don’t know what was in that flask, but I’ll be fine. I’m not going to sit out here all night.” Bucky’s trying to play it off. He has no fucking idea if he’ll actually be fine, but the newest physiological response his body is having to the chemical isn’t one he wants you to become aware of. He’s aroused. His cock is harder than it’s ever been, and he’d rather sleep outside on the icy road and get run over by Santa’s fucking sleigh then stay this close to you. He worries he won’t be able to control himself if he has to look at you one more time tonight, if he even hears another breath leave your lips, he’ll be done for.  
            “Bucky, tell me what you’re feeling.” You say softly, pushing your chair away from the table and standing, but not daring to move any closer to where he stands in the living room. He scrunches his eyes closed and presses his vibranium hand to the back of his neck in an attempt to cool the skin there.
            “Y/n, I’m going to bed.” He sounds so frustrated. It’s a tone of voice you actually recognize. This is how he used to sound when you’d tease him at the worst times, when you were somewhere that restricted him from being able to touch you, to fuck you.
            “Is it what I think it is?” You ask, your voice impossibly quieter than before. Bucky’s eyes snap open now and he studies you. Looking at you makes his dick throb and his balls feel so fucking full and heavy. He closes his eyes again as quickly as he opened them and then, you’re sure. It was a fucking sex pollen.
            You don’t dare make a move to stop Bucky when he hurries down the hall and locks himself in his bedroom. You stand frozen in the kitchen for the next two minutes, trying to figure out what the hell you should be doing in a situation like this. You end up doing what you do best: researching. You sit yourself right back down at the table and open your laptop, quickly accessing the online archive of SHIELD research files. You type in every word you can possibly think of to find what you need. Luckily, the first article that pops up is exactly what you needed.
            You skim through it at lightning speed, your eyes picking up on the important details. Heightened senses, increases sexual drive ten-fold, may result in permanent disability or death if state of intense arousal is not rectified. Shit, this is bad. You’re wondering how the hell one is supposed to rectify the intense arousal when your eyes land on the most key piece of information in the entire article. Human trials have revealed that allowed the specimen to engage in sexual intercourse is the only successful way to return to a normotensive physiological state.
            You have to fuck. You have to convince him to have sex with you. You have to convince the man who broke up with you three months ago to have sex with you. You’ve suddenly decided that you fucking hate your job.
            However, you’re not going to sit around while Bucky becomes permanently disabled or lets himself die of exposure to a damn HYDRA sex pollen. So, you slam your laptop shut and march right down the hall. You tap your knuckles against his bedroom door three times, until you hear the bed creak slightly, so you at least know he’s alive. He doesn’t make a single move to answer the door. He’s sitting on the side of the bed, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress so hard that it’ll probably never spring back into shape. His sense of hearing is heightened so much that he can hear every breath you take. He thinks he can even hear the sound of your eyelashes fluttering as you blink.
            “Bucky, I did some research.” God, just the sound of your voice might be enough to make him cum in his sweats. Bucky bites his bottom lip and looks down at where his erection is fighting to escape the confines of his sweats. “If this is a sex pollen, which I think we both know it is, it can kill you. The only way to fix this is to…” Your voice trails off, but you don’t have to finish your sentence for Bucky to know what the solution is here. But he won’t ask that of you. He refuses to ask you to sleep with him. He knows he broke your heart three months ago, and he’d be the world’s biggest asshole if he used you for relief now. So, he stays silent. “We could…”
            You can’t seem to finish any of your sentences. Why is it so hard for you to say we could fuck. Oh, right. Because you’ve missed the way he fucks for months. Because you know that if he wasn’t under the influence of this chemical right now, he sure as hell wouldn’t be turned on around you. You’d happily have sex with him right now, but he’d only be doing it because he has to do it to survive.
            “I know I’m probably the last person that you’d want to be offering this, but I’m offering. I don’t want you to sit in there and die.” You say softly, your voice cracking a little bit on the final word. The last person he’d want to be offering this? Fuck, you have no idea how he really feels, do you? Bucky screws his eyes shut and fights back the urge to throw the door open and tell you how much he fucking loves you, how much he’s missed you. It’s why he broke up with you in the first place. What if something happened one day that turned him right back into the Winter Soldier? What if he ended up on ice again and by the time he came out of cryo, you were dead and gone? He had to break up with you, because he felt like his future was always too unclear to promise it to someone.
            “I’m here, Bucky, if you need me.” You whisper, with your forehead pressed against the cool wood of the door. He can tell that you’re hurting for him. It’s why, against his rational mind, he finds himself crossing the room and tugging the door open. When he sees you standing there in the light of the hallway, he can hear that little Christmas tune that you love so much playing in his head. Fuck it.
            You’ve barely had a second to realize that Bucky’s just opened the door for you before you feel his hand fist in your hair and he yanks you forward against his chest. His mouth captures yours in a heated kiss. Bucky sucks your bottom lip between his and wastes no time in using his hold on your hair to tilt your head to the side and slide his tongue into your mouth. You act on muscle memory, kissing him the same way you used to every single day. You let his tongue dance around your mouth, but when he begins to pull back you suck on it lightly, earning a groan from him. He tastes just like you remember, and suddenly you want him so badly that for all you know you could have some sex pollen coursing through your veins.
            “The last person I’d want to be offering this?” Bucky rasps against your lips, briefly looking into your eyes as he repeats your words in question. “You’re the only person I’d want to be offering this.” He pulls on your hair again, tilting your head further to the side and sucking on the skin right below your ear. Your eyes close as you try to calm your racing heart, reminding yourself that as perfect as this might feel right now, it won’t last.
            It takes mere seconds for Bucky to pull you into his room and practically throw you onto his bed. When he crawls over you a second later, it’s like he’s suddenly realized you both still have your clothes on. He stands back up beside the bed and strips quickly, exposing every bit of his fucking heavenly body to you. You don’t even try to choke back the whimper that leaves your lips. Bucky freezes when he hears it. He’s heard it before. He’s heard it in his dreams, ever since you broke up. It’s sort of funny. He never had dreams before, only nightmares. Until he broke up with you, and then he started having dreams about you every night. They’ve replaced nearly every nightmare. Instead of HYDRA being the reason he’s up at night, it’s all you.
            You start shimmying out of your pants right there on the bed as you look at Bucky, too impatient to stand up and take everything off like he did. He strokes his cock slowly in one hand, but every time his palm glides over the tip he makes a face like he’s in pain. You know from your brief research that touching himself won’t give him an ounce of relief, it’ll only make things worse. So, once you have your pants off, you reach up and grab his wrist, stopping his stroking, and pulling him closer to the bed. He gets the hint and positions himself on top of you again, spreading your legs apart with his knee before settling between them.
            “I’ve missed you.” Bucky coos against the side of your neck, right as you feel the head of his cock brushing against your clit through your already soaked panties. He didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t want to make the break up any harder for you, but fuck. He’s missed having you under him like this, though in the past you never kept your panties and shirt on when you were under him.
            “I’ve been right here.” You respond quietly, letting your hands coast down his sides until you feel the way his back muscles are rigid underneath your palms. He’s restraining himself. “Bucky, you don’t have to hold back.” He sighs deeply and grinds his cock against you, hard. It draws a moan from your lips that’s so needy, Bucky can’t wait any longer. He knows he’s only waited a minute at this point, but he just can’t anymore. He reaches down between the two of you and snags a finger in your panties, deftly pulling them to the side and guiding his cock straight into you without warning. The cry that escapes you isn’t one of pain or surprise, it’s one of pure lust. It might’ve been three months since the last time you had sex, but your body accepts his cock like it never left. There’s no pain, there’s only pleasure as he starts fucking into you slowly. He builds the pace up in mere seconds, speeding up more and more until he’s fucking you so hard and fast that the headboard is snapping against the wall and scratching the paint.
            “God, you’re still so fucking tight for me.” He groans, burying himself balls deep inside you. He stays still for a moment, letting your pussy grip his cock like a vice.
            “It’s still yours.” You whisper the words against his jawline. When his eyes snap open and stare straight into yours, you know you probably shouldn’t have said it. His pupils are already overly dilated, but they expand a little more as possessiveness flares in his chest. He always loved when you let him know who your pussy belonged to. He fucking loved it.
            Wait. The realization hits you both at the same time. He isn’t wearing a condom. As he looks into your eyes, his face falls and your eyes widen. He never once fucked you without a condom on. It was part of his whole no-long-term-commitment thing. He didn’t want to risk an unintentional pregnancy, so he never let himself fuck you raw. When he starts to pull out, you’re quick to wrap your legs around him and lock him in place.
            “Don’t.” You plead. You want this. You’ve always wanted this. Bucky bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, trying to find a single rational thought in his mind. He knows he shouldn’t do this, he knows he should pull out and find a fucking condom. But will he?
             The answer is no. He uses what little space you give him between your legs to start thrusting into you again, slower this time, but still every bit as deep as before.
            “If you don’t let me pull out…” He starts, but you pull his face down to yours and silence him with a kiss. After a few seconds, he picks up his pace and begins fucking you relentlessly once again, further ruining the paintjob on the bedroom wall behind the headboard.
            “I always wanted you to fuck me like this.” You sigh against his lips. You feel Bucky’s entire body tense up as he nears his release, your words egging him on.
            “Oh, baby, I always wanted to fuck you like this.” He admits, snapping his hips into yours and getting you that much closer to the edge. As your orgasm threatens to tear through you, something weighs heavy on Bucky’s mind. He wants to cum inside you. He loves you but he’s always told himself he can’t have you, because his future is so unclear, he can’t make promises to you and possibly break them. But…he’s a good guy. If he were to knock you up, he’d do the right thing. The traditional thing. He’d marry you and take such good care of you, of the little family you’d have together. Maybe that’s what he should do. He thinks that maybe if he gets you pregnant right now, it would force him to give you his future, no matter how much it scares him. He’d be so much more concerned with doing the right thing in the present, rather than worrying about what might happen in the future. “Let me cum inside you.”
            “You can, Bucky. You can cum inside me.” You moan out, locking your ankles together behind him and pulling him harder against you. He groans and presses another kiss to your lips, but a gentler one this time.
            “You’ll have a baby for me.” He doesn’t even phrase it as a question, no, he’s telling you what you’ll do. “You’ll let me get you pregnant, and then you’ll be mine.”
            “Fuck…” The curse falls from your lips as bliss surges through you. You can’t even find the words to say what you want to say, which is fuck yes. So, you lay there submissively, with your legs wrapped around him as he fucks every drop of cum that he has into you. Then, you catch your breath while he pulls his cock out of you and slides your panties back over your sore cunt. You even let him pile the pillows beneath your hips and legs, elevating your pelvis to make sure his cum won’t drip back out of you.
            Fuck. He really wants to make sure you’re pregnant after this.
TAG LIST (if your user has a line through it, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you):
@gyokujyn @mrsjoequinn @thealloveru2 @nixxaswrld @ordelixx @sweettae02 @frombkjar @hellfirebabe @edelweissbarnes @sunnyhummingbee @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @crist1216  @twlkdead
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kaiscumsock · 7 months
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it’s october
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they’re coming out of hibernation
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babydollmarauders · 4 months
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IN THE LIGHTS — JACK HUGHES
jack hughes x fem!reader
12 DAYS OF KINKMAS
summary: in which y/n and Jack are decorating the tree, and he finds another use for the christmas lights
warnings: fluffy cheesiness in the beginning, NSFW CONTENT, bondage, p in v (unprotected), fingering, degradation, praise, spit. (4k words)
notes: welcome to day 7 of the 12 days of kinkmas! where i wrote this smut in…not at all at christmas time! it’s no surprise to me that this is my favorite one because… it’s Jack.
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“please, Jack?”
i’ve been begging for a week. pleading with my boyfriend to finally decorate our christmas tree.
usually, when i was back in my own apartment, i would make a fun night out of it with my friends. all of us getting together to listen to christmas music, drink spiked hot cocoa, and decorate my tree before hunkering down for holiday movies with big bowls of popcorn; that were meant to be used to make garland, but somehow always ended up with more in our mouths than on the string. but now i live with my boyfriend and his brother, and i had hoped we could decorate the tree together; starting a new tradition.
Jack seemed to love the idea when i brought it up, knowing how excited i get around the holidays and how much i loved the season. but with his hockey schedule being so busy, we haven’t exactly had the time to decorate it amongst roadies and the various home games and practices.
but now it’s December 20th, five days away from christmas, and he has a rare free night at home.
logically, i know Jack is probably dreading the decorating. my tidy boyfriend will surely hate the various boxes of ornaments around our living room and the sparkly tinsel that always seems to shed onto the floor. i know he’ll probably complain about my putting on the chipmunks christmas album, and the fact that i’m so anal-retentive about the placement of the ornaments and how the lights are spiraled around the tree.
but i also know that he’ll do it to make me happy. i know that although he’ll complain about some things, he’ll smile when i bring out the christmas cookies, and he’ll tease me about how the stockings have to be hung just right on the entertainment center or i’ll get chills and have to fix them while he sleeps.
which is exactly what i’m banking on to persuade him to say yes to giving up his relaxing night of sitting on the couch and watching hockey in order to help me decorate.
Jack looks over at me, situated under his arm on the couch, my cheek pressed to his shoulder as i make my best puppy dog eyes up at him.
“yeah.” he finally sighs, shaking his head as a bright grin breaks out across my face.
“thank you!” i squeal, quickly shifting from his hold. i sling a leg over him, straddling his lap and cupping his face in my hands. i pepper kisses all over his cheeks, forehead, and nose.
“alright, alright!” his face turns pink as he giggles, playfully trying to push me away.
i pull back just long enough to give him some reprieve before swooping back in and pressing a kiss to his lips.
“i love you.” i remind him sweetly, winding my arms behind his neck.
“i love you too, kiss monster.” i laugh at his teasing nickname, leaning forward to press my lips against his once more.
his hands come up to hold my ass and he chuckles into the kiss as i squirm a little at his touch.
“oh, c’mon guys, really?” our moment is broken by Luke’s voice, and i pull back to find my boyfriend’s brother walking through the living room, pulling a hoodie over his head. “other people live here, you know? i don’t wanna see my brother fondling his girlfriend in our living room.”
Jack’s head tips back in laughter, “fondling?”
“yeah, you know, what you were just doing?” Luke raises his eyebrows, pointing at his older brother’s hands that still rest on my butt. “i know you didn’t go to college but that’s like a fifth grade level vocab word, dude.”
“get outta here, you cock-block!” Jack huffs, one hand leaving my body in order to give Luke the middle finger and then shoo him off.
the younger boy shrugs, snagging his coat off the hooks by the front door.
“oh!” i pipe up before he can leave, garnering his attention. “where are you going? Jack said we could decorate the tree tonight! do you wanna join us?”
Luke’s eyes flick from me to his brother, and i look back at my boyfriend to find him looking at his younger sibling with the ‘be nice or i’ll convince Nico to make you skate extra laps’ look.
it’s a pretty oftenly used facial expression between the two, ever since Jack found me crying in our closet early this year because i thought Luke hated me after i moved in. that was also when i learned that Luke doesn’t dislike me, he’s just an extremely blunt person.
“i’m sorry, y/n/n, i have some friends from U of M in town for a couple days. we’re gonna hang out and catch up.” Luke explains nicely, obviously trying not to hurt my feelings. “i look forward to seeing it when i get home though! Jesper said your tree designs are legendary.”
“okay.” i give him an understanding smile, nodding my head. “have fun! and be careful!”
he gives me a thumbs up, heading out the door. as it clicks shut, i look back at my boyfriend, who’s already looking at me with a pitiful smile.
“i’m sorry,” he starts, rubbing a comforting hand up and down my back. “i know you wanted it to be all three of us.”
i shrug, “it’s fine. he should catch up with his friends.”
“it’ll be just us then.” Jack smiles, “a new tradition for us.”
“a new tradition for us.” i repeat, grinning as i lean forward to peck his lips.
**
it took another couple hours for Jack and i to finally get up and drag out all the decorations i had brought when i moved in; the boxes being stuffed in the back of the storage closet.
“jesus, babe.” he huffs, setting the final box down on the coffee table. “i knew you brought a lot, but six boxes?”
i shrug, already pulling the first box open, finding a wide array of ornaments inside.
“a box for everything.” i explain to him, pulling open a second box. “two boxes of ornaments, a box of lights, a box of tinsel, a box of stockings and their hooks, and a box of all my stuff for garland making.”
Jack rolls his eyes, pulling open another box. he reaches his hand in, pulling out a red and white knitted stocking with an embroidered ‘J’ on it.
“is this… for me?” his voice is soft as he looks at me in questioning.
“yeah! i made it after you asked me to move in!”
“you made this? just for me?” he steps in closer to me, a prideful smile on his face. “my girlfriend is magical with her hands.”
i chuckle, pulling the stocking from his grip.
“oh, don’t act like you didn’t already know that.” i wink and he pulls me in by my hips, pulling me flush against him.
“oh trust me, i knew it.” his words drip with lust, his head dipping down to capture my lips in a kiss, but it’s in that moment that the christmas song that fills the air switches, now playing ‘The Chipmunk Song’.
Jack groans, pulling away. “even the music is cock-blocking me tonight.”
the laugh that slips through my lips is quickly followed by a snort, which makes my boyfriend grin, crinkling his nose.
“let’s just start decorating.” he nods at my statement, letting me step away from his touch.
as i begin fluffing the tree branches, making sure they’re nice and spread for the decorations, Jack opens the last few boxes. i glance over for a second, watching him pull out two more stockings, matching his, these ones with Luke and i’s initials on them.
the corners of his lips quirk up as he sets them on the entertainment center, more than likely not wanting to risk hanging them without my guidance.
i finish fluffing the tree, pulling a can of spray snow from the tinsel box, and Jack throws me an odd look as i begin spraying the tree.
“what’s that?” he questions, coming over to join me by the tree.
“it’s spray snow.” i tell him as i continue spraying. “see how it gives the tree a white dusted look, as if it’s been in the snow?”
he nods, his brows still threaded together as he watches. i can feel his eyes on me as i bend over to spray the bottom branches of the tree, making sure no spots are left bare.
but when i stand back up, my boyfriend is stood right behind me, his hands coming down on my waist and pulling my ass against him.
“you know what you’re doing.” he hums, and with the feeling of his semi-hard bulge against me, i have a feeling he doesn’t just mean with the tree.
“Jack.” i scold playfully, turning around in his grip. “the lights please?”
he sighs, letting his hands fall back down to his sides as he steps back.
“right.” he huffs, turning back to the boxes and pulling out a string of perfectly untangled lights, thanks to my storage hack of wrapping them an empty paper towel roll.
he begins unraveling the lights, and once he has the entire string of them into his hands, he sets them to the side.
turning back to me, a smirk is glued to his lips, a dark look in his eyes. i squint at him, crossing my arms over my chest.
“what are you thinking?” i ask suspiciously, scanning him up and down. but he just shrugs, feigning innocence.
“who? me? i’m not thinking anything.” he could possibly be convincing, if i didn’t know that exact look all too well.
he’s been horny ever since we were on the couch, and this is his ‘i just got a dirty idea’ face.
“i’ll tell you what,” i start, holding a finger up to stop him mid-step forward. he hums, urging me to continue.
“you’re horny, i’m horny, we both want sex right now. but, you know how much doing the tree means to me. after we finish the tree, we can do whatever dirty little thing just popped into your head. but first, i want the tree done.”
Jack nods rapidly, “deal!”
i giggle at his excitement, watching as he turns back around and grabs the lights again, walking over to the tree.
“alright, how do we do this?”
i guide Jack through plugging the lights in before spiraling them around the tree, from bottom to top. once that’s done, Jack lifts me up, letting me place the topper on the tree.
“what’s next?” he asks me, standing in front of all the open boxes, his hands on his hips.
“draping the tinsel.” he groans at my words, pulling the tinsel out of its box.
we work together to spiral it around the tree, making sure it doesn’t cover the lights, before we finally start on ornaments.
with the two of us, it doesn’t take too long, but i can tell my boyfriend is getting impatient. especially with the way he keeps having to lift me up to put ornaments on the top branches, my body pressed against his as he does so.
the last thing we do is the stockings, me guiding Jack on how to space them out so that they’re evenly spaced at the front of the entertainment center.
when we finally finish it all, about an hour and a half later, i stand back, looking over our finished project with a smile.
Jack stands behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, my back pulled against his chest.
“it looks great, baby.” he compliments, pressing a kiss to my cheek. blood rushes to my face, biting my lip. “Jesper was right, you really are legendary.”
“thank you, love.”
he wastes no time, squeezing my waist tighter as he speaks up again, “so…”
“yes, Jack.” i laugh, nodding my head. “now we can do whatever you thought of earlier.”
he excitedly pulls away, spinning me around and gripping my chin, making me look up at him. his eyes are dark, his voice low as he speaks.
“go to the bedroom, i want you naked and on the bed when i get in there.”
i nod, speeding off to the bedroom. as soon as i step through the threshold of our room, i’m tearing my sweater over my head, letting it drop to the floor. as i walk over to the bed, i unclip my bra, throwing it to the side as well. i stop at the edge of the bed, peeling my jeans down my legs, along with my panties, leaving me bare as i crawl to the middle of the bed.
i sit quietly, my legs tucked under me and my hands clasped on my knees.
the soft flow of christmas music from the living room stops, and i can hear Jack’s footsteps down the hall, getting closer and closer. i squirm a little in excitement, shifting my weight around and squeezing my thighs together.
he steps into the bedroom, one hand behind his back, smirking when he sees that i did what he told me.
“good girl.” he gruffs, stepping up to the edge of the mattress. “give me your hands.”
i hold my hands out, and it’s then that he brings his own out from behind his back, a spare string of lights in his grasp.
“what are you doing?” i ask, but my question is answered by his actions.
he grips my hands in one hand, pressing my wrists together, and begins wrapping the lights around my them.
“is this okay?” he asks softly, looking me in the eye as he speaks. i smile at his care, grateful to have a boyfriend that makes sure i give explicit consent to what he’s doing.
“yeah.” i nod, “this is okay.”
“you remember your safe word?” he finishes tying the lights around my wrists, not too tight, but just enough that i can’t slip my hands through.
“assist.” i tell him, and he smiles in confirmation.
“good.”
and like a flip of a switch, the soft and gentle Jack is gone, replaced by a dark and dominating one.
he allows me to watch him pull his hoodie cover his head, bringing his t-shirt with it, before he pushes me back on the bed. he crawls slowly over top of me, pushing my arms above my head and dipping down to lock his lips with mine.
the kiss is rough and dominating, his tongue pushing past my lips to tangle with mine. he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, pulling back with it caught between his teeth before letting it pop back into place.
he trails hot, wet kisses down my jawline, sucking gently at my neck as his hand grips my breast harshly, pinching my nipple between his fingers and pulling.
my back arches, pushing my breasts up towards him, a moan sounding from my throat.
“Jack.” i whimper as his hand begins to trail down my abdomen, getting closer and closer to where i need him.
i can feel him smirk against my skin, dipping his fingers down to find my clit. my hips buck against him, my hands pulling against the lights in attempt to separate so i can grip his back, and i whine when they can’t.
he begins to circle my clit with his thumb, rubbing in figure eights, and the high pitched sounds escaping my lips bounce off the walls of the bedroom.
my eyes squeeze shut, my chin tipping up towards the ceiling, and Jack pulls his lips from my neck, staring down at me and admiring my blissed state.
while his thumb rubs, he runs a finger through my wetness using it as lubrication to slip one finger into my heat.
my walls clench at the intrusion, my eyes rolling back as he crooks his finger inside of me.
“Jacky, please.” i breathe out, grinding myself down upon his hand. my own hands grip the pillow above me, the only thing i can think to do with them restricted.
“such a slut. you wanna come so bad, don’t you?” he spits out, “wanna make a mess all over my hand.”
i whimper, nodding my head rapidly as he slips a second finger into me, thrusting and curling them to push against my g-spot.
pressure builds in my stomach as he continues fucking me with his fingers, stretching me with a third digit. my toes curl, my walls clenching around him, and i know he can tell i won’t last much longer.
“you wanna come? say it.” Jack leans forward, whispering in my ear. “say you wanna come on my fingers like a fucking slut.”
i gasp as he thrusts his fingers in again, my orgasm quickly approaching.
“i’m a slut.” i squeak, a moan falling past my lips. “i wanna come on your fingers like a slut.”
i pry my eyes open, my boyfriend hovering his face above mine, and he nods.
“come.” he commands, and as if he summoned it out of me, my climax hits, my breath catching in my throat as the knot in my stomach disperses, my eyes rolling back and my hands struggling against their restraints.
Jack’s fingers still, only his thumb continues moving against my clit, and he leans down to kiss me. pulling away once my orgasm is done.
he sits back, pulling his fingers out of me and leaving me clenching around nothing, feeling empty. his hand smacks my thigh, and i open my eyes again to look at him, watching as his hand rises to his lips, sucking his fingers clean of my release, one at a time.
i release a shaky breath as he hums, my eyes falling down to find his erection straining against his sweatpants.
“you taste so sweet, baby.” he whispers, bringing my attention back to his face. “you want a taste?”
my lips part, nodding, and he smirks; but instead of pushing a finger to my lips, he dips down to eye level with my pussy, his tongue darting out as he starts licking through my arousal. my hips wiggle, bucking up against him, and he pushes them down before pulling away.
he crawls back over top of me, squeezing my jaw open, and spits, letting a slow string of my cum drip down onto my tongue. he closes my jaw, raising an eyebrow at me, and i swallow before opening again, sticking my tongue out to show him.
“such a good girl for me.” he praises.
my arms ache, and i contemplate asking him to untie me, but instead i wait for him to crawl off of me before i lower them back down to my stomach.
i watch with baited breath and a bitten lip as he drags his sweatpants down his hips, his boxers going with. his cock springs free, slapping against his lower stomach as he kicks his bottoms to the side.
my whine echoes through the room at the sight, longing to feel him in my hand, and Jack finds amusement in my torture, slowly walking back to the bed.
“you want my cock so bad, don’t you?” he pouts, mocking me. “you want me buried in your tight little pussy, filling you up?”
i let out a strangled whimper, nodding my head.
“please.” i beg, already knowing where this is headed. “please, Jack, i want you. i want you to fuck me so bad.”
he climbs onto the bed, cupping my cheek as he settles over top of me.
“you made me wait, maybe i should make you wait too.” he teases, beginning to pull back, but i quickly lock my arms around his neck, holding him in place. my tied up wrists helping in my endeavor. i shake my head.
“no, please. i’ll be good.” i plead. “i’ll be so good, just please fuck me.”
Jack nods, pressing a kiss to my lips. “okay.”
he uses his knee to spread my thighs further apart, one hand wrapping around himself, guiding his dick through my folds. my legs wrap around his waist, my back arching as his tip rubs against my swollen clit.
“you ready?” he stares down into my eyes, raised brows as he questions me.
“yes,” i start, “plea-”
i don’t even get to finish my words, cut off as he thrusts deep into me. i squeak, my eyes rolling back as he wastes no time; pulling almost all the way out before harshly snapping his hips against mine again.
“shit!” he curses, and i blink my eyes open to watch his head tip back in pleasure. “squeezing me like a fucking vice, baby.”
his voice is strained, and my hands grip his back to ground myself, my nails digging into his skin, surely leaving crescent shaped indentations.
his strokes slow before speeding up again, getting rougher with each thrust. my breathing quickens, and i use my arms to pull his lips back to mine.
our lips move in tandem, his tongue poking through to taste mine, our connection occasionally broken for a moan or a breath. i trail away from his lips, dragging the tip of my tongue along his jaw until a reach the end, placing an open mouthed kiss below his ear.
he groans, my hips bucking up to meet his thrusts, and i suck his earlobe between my lips before i go back to his.
our kisses are messy, teeth clashing with our rushed movements, but it fits the scene perfectly. his hand comes down to cup my breast, pinching and pulling my nipple as our skin slaps together.
the pressure begins to build again, a knot tying in my stomach, and my abdomen tightens, my walls clenching around him.
i’m still oversensitive from my first orgasm, and i can feel my second rapidly approaching.
“fuck, you gonna come on my cock?” he grunts, and i shake my head ‘yes’, speechless at the feeling that’s washing over me.
“do it.”
my body tenses, the sensations of him thrusting inside me while playing with my nipples throwing me over the edge. my nails dig deeper into his back as i finish, and his thrusts become sloppier and hurried.
within a minute, his hips stutter, his body tensing just like mine had moments ago, and he quickly pulls out, ropes of cum painting my stomach as he finishes.
our heavy breaths are the only sound left in the apartment, Jack bowing out from under my arms and flopping down on the bed beside me.
we take a few moments to replenish the oxygen in our lungs and Jack gently unties my wrists, pressing kisses to the skin there, despite them being perfectly fine.
as soon as my hands are free, i’m swiping a digit through his release on my stomach, looking over at him as i lick his cum off my finger.
“fuck.” he drags out, lust rejuvenating in his eyes. “baby, you’ve already had 2 orgasms, don’t make me wanna give you another.”
i bite back a smile, shrugging my shoulders, and he gets up, stalking into our en-suite bathroom, coming back a second later with a wet washcloth. he kneels on the bed, wiping my stomach clean before disappearing again.
when he reappears, he holds one of his t-shirts from our closet in our en-suite. he pulls on some clean boxers from his drawers, pulling another pair out, before coming back over to me. he helps me into the extra boxers, before i sit up.
“arms up, baby.” i follow his directions, letting him slip the t-shirt over my head before snuggling back into my pillow.
he climbs back into bed, pulling me closer until my head rests on his chest, and i mellow, listening to his heartbeat.
“so, is that part of the tradition too? or just the tree decorating?” he jokes, making me giggle in amusement.
his arms tighten around me as he places a kiss to my hair.
“check back next year, i’ll decide then.”
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