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allywthsr · 5 months

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SELFMADE CALENDAR | (l.norris)

summary: you and Lando pack an advent calendar for each other!

wordcount: 1.6k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

notes: my first advent calendar! I hope you like it, tell me your thoughts 🥹

advent calendar

You looked around you, it was the last day of November and you had an advent calendar to pack. You hid in your shared bedroom, sitting on the ground and figuring out what to give him on what day, while Lando sat in his gaming room to pack yours there.

It became a little tradition since you started dating, to make each other a calendar. Lando had an easier job than you, he could put face masks, bath salts, chocolate, and other stuff for every day and you‘d be happy, but for him, it was much more difficult. He couldn’t just eat tons of chocolate, or Jon would get mad, and he was a rich man, whatever he wanted, he could buy it himself, and he did.

This year you wanted to make the best advent calendar you had ever done, buying things he actually needed. Last week he complained that his underwear had little holes in them, just like some of his socks, so you went and bought him a few pairs of each, and could fill five bags already. Socks and underwear wasn’t the best thing to get gifted, but he really needed these and he would be happy, at least you hoped. Another thing you got him was a smaller size of his favorite Parfum, just as some shaving cream as a joke for his beard as well as some razor blades for his razor, and some aftershave you found in a store.

You wanted to get him things he actually needed and just wouldn’t lay around, you had done that in the last years, getting him small things, like a mini teddy bear with an ’I love you‘ T-shirt on, its cute, and he was happy about it, but it’s just sitting in one of his drawers. And gifting him things like a picnic or general time with you was also something you didn’t want to do, time with you shouldn’t be gifted, it should be something you do regularly and not be done just because you wrote it on a piece of paper. And you did it regularly, whenever you could you would go out to eat or just enjoy a movie night, cuddling until you fell asleep or doing other nsfw things.

Next, you put a self-made bracelet in a bag, you knew how much he loved things like this, especially bracelets. It’s something his mum started when she gifted him one for Christmas a few years back and now he collected them. You had gotten him a fair amount, but also a lot of fans made him some and he loved them, he was wearing them for days and weeks. So it was time you got him one, that wasn’t bought but made. It was papaya colored, mixed with some of his iconic neon yellow plus your favorite color, you also put the first letter of your name on it, so he always knew it was from you.

You did put a few chocolates in eight bags, he deserved it, after the season he had. The chocolates vary from typical chocolate Santa Claus’s to kinder bars, because those are his favorites, but for your own peace of mind with Jon, you put some protein bars or healthy versions of chocolate in there as well.

Something you were extremely proud of, was a T-shirt you made, where the girlfriend prints pictures of herself on it for her boyfriend to wear. This was more like a joke, but you knew he would love it and would wear it proudly.

You knew that Lando would freak out if he found out how much money you spent, so for some bags you kept it small, adding his favorite shower gel or a xxl pack of his favorite gum just as his favorite lip balm because you knew how he would complain about having dry lips in the winter, crying about how soft yours were because you used some chapstick regularly. And one of your favorite things you gotten him, was a little notebook where you painted the outside because you couldn’t find the right one for him. Now it looked like the perfect fit for him, and he could start journaling again, you noticed how his mental health was a bit down and you knew from when he was in therapy that journaling helped him. So you got him a notebook and a collection of beautiful pens for him to write his feelings down when he couldn’t communicate them. Maybe it was something that other people wouldn’t consider putting in an advent calendar, but you knew he needed it and he would be very happy about it. Sometimes he got shy when he talked about his mental health and it wasn’t always easy for him to talk about it, he tried but every now and then he just needed some time and a journal to get his thoughts out of his head.

For the last day, Christmas, you got a necklace that was made out of a small silver chain and had a tiny heart dangling on it, the extra was, that you had your first letter engraved on the back of the heart. Lando was a sucker for something so cheesy, and he told you recently how much he wanted a new necklace. He loved to carry something of you on him, in fact, a Polaroid picture of you, he took a few years ago, was resting in his wallet, whenever he pulled it out to pay for something, he looked at you with a smile and got reminded that he was extremely lucky to have someone like you on his side. With that in mind, you got him the prettiest necklace there was.

One thing you had to do, was to write little notes every day and put them in every bag, on some you‘d just written ’I love you‘ or ’thank you for everything‘ but some were more explicit and some were just really cheesy, but you wanted to add the last personal touch before closing the bags with a strip of washi tape and adding a number for every day. You couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

So you gathered as many of his bags as you could carry and brought them to a shelf in the living room, in the end, you needed to do three trips to get all of his twenty-four bags there but when you lined them all up, it looked perfect. The colorful bags added a nice touch to the atmosphere and decoration you already put up for Christmas. You were curious about what Lando had bought.

Lando was on the floor as well, looking around and seeing that he went overboard with your presents again. He just loved seeing you happy and getting you stuff, he tried to keep it lowkey and buy some face, hand, and foot masks but he could not not buy you something more fancy. A phone case from your favorite luxury brand waited for you in bag ten, your concealer he knew you loved to use was sitting next to his foot as well as your powder, ready to be put in a bag, he did put a lot of your favorite Christmas sweets in some bags just as some hair ties because you could never have enough of them. Because you two were alike he bought you your parfum. A few bath salts made their way into separate bags, he knew how much you loved a relaxing bath, every now and then he would join you, sitting behind you while cuddling and talking about the most random stuff, mostly evolving to dirty activities. Lando was just like you and didn’t like gifting time, so he only focused on putting material things into the bags.

A Pyjama that was red and christmasy looking sat next to him, he got the same for himself, so you could match during the night. It was cheesy but sometimes he loved it. Last week he bought a stuffie from your favorite animal, you loved to decorate the bedroom with stuffies and he saw it at the airport when he was flying back home from his last race of the season. Two books from your favorite author were put in two separate bags and your favorite chocolate waited for him to pack. A few hair and skin care products made their way into a few bags as well.

For the last bag of the calendar, he got you a bracelet where a heart was sitting with an ’L‘ engraved, you both didn’t know that the other got the same thing but he thought a bracelet was cute and he wanted you to wear his initial on your body, he didn’t care that he was selfish.

He had the same thought as you did and printed out twenty-four pictures of you and him, writing little messages on the back. ’I love you‘ or ’ Have a good day, love‘, was his favorite to write, and he put one picture per day into the calendar.

When he was finished, he brought the advent calendar into the living room as well, displaying them on the shelf next to the one where you had put his‘.

When he saw you standing in the kitchen and preparing the dinner for the day, he had to wrap his arms around your waist, pressing you into him, and place kisses on your neck and shoulders.

”I finished your advent calendar.“

”I did so too.“

”I‘m excited for you to see all of your presents.“

”Lando, I hope you didn’t go all out again. Last year you got me new shoes for the first day!“

”It’s not that crazy, I promise, smells good by the way.“

”Thank you, baby, it’s almost done, would you mind setting the table?“

”Everything for my love.“

taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #christmas #advent calendar #lando norris one shot #lando imagine #formula 1

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risuola · 4 months

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SKIP SANTA, WE'RE BOTH ON THE NAUGHTY LIST ANYWAY — F. READER x GOJO SATORU, who’s always naughty

You aren’t an official couple, more like friends with benefits, but most of your close friends know there’s something going on between you two and it’s all mostly because of how naughty Satoru always is when you’re next to him. He just can’t keep his hands to himself.

cw: suggestive fluff, friends with benefits but really it's just idiots in love, reader discretion is advised — 0,9k words

a/n: with that I'm closing the kissmas event. this one is short, this one is very lighthearted and soft because I just needed some soft Satoru, okay? anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the little kissmas with me, I'll be back soon with regular content 🖤

kissmas masterlist

“But Santa~!” You whined, fighting with your friend and putting all your force into the futile attempt to pull him out of the bed. It was Christmas and Satoru just wouldn’t leave the sheets and no matter how hard you were tugging on his arm, it was getting you nowhere. It also seemed like nowhere is exactly where the two of you will go that day, instead of heading to the mall to see Santa.

“Oh, skip Santa, we’re both on the naughty list anyway,” he rolled his eyes playfully, his face twisted in the beautiful, toothy grin and he moved up from the pillows. False hope that he’ll get up and ready vanished as soon as he used his long arm to wrap it around your waist and pull you back into the bed. You landed on top of his frame, melting into the familiar warmth and laughing at the stubbornness, so characteristic of him.

“Maybe you are on the naughty list, Satoru,” you protested, lifting your head just enough to look him in the eyes. The cerulean orbs, clear and shimmering like gems in the sunlight were fixed on you, and you couldn’t help but feel privileged to see them so often. Gojo’s eyes were pure magic that never failed to captivate you and you were sure, with those eyes, he would be able to convince you to do everything.

“I sure am. And you are the reason I’m on it,” he replied, his tone teasing and matching the smirk on his lips. “But don’t worry, gorgeous, I have a gift for you anyway, even if you’ve been such a bad, naughty girl lately, no need to chase the old guy in red suit.”

“Oh, you don’t get it,” you chuckled, brushing his nose with the tip of your own. His hands were already wandering across your figure, squeezing the fat on your butt and hips.

“Maybe I don’t,” he bucked his head up, chasing the sweet taste of your lips with his own. “Why sit on Santa’s lap when you can sit on mine?” Satoru grinned at the way you moved your head back, just to not let him have the pleasure of kissing you so easily. You were a teaser and he loved it. “Or better,” he purred, grabbing you and flipping both of you around, “you can sit on my di—"

“Satoru!” You let a laugh out, it was a mess, you were tangled in the covers and he was now above you, naked and absolutely not ashamed. “We were supposed to go with the kids.”

“Oh, I’m sure the teenagers also have better plans than to see the Santa imitation,” the man used the tight position you were in to steal the kisses he wanted. Soon, he was flooding you with quick pecks across your face and lips, and down your neck and shoulders. “You can’t possibly envision Megs enjoying the old prick with a fake beard in the mall.”

“You’re saying this because you’re horny,” you said, faking the serious tone, but you couldn’t keep the act long when his eyelashes were tickling your skin whenever he pressed his face against your body.

“As if you’re not,” he purred, his voice vibrating against the most sensitive spot on your neck before he sucked onto it. “Besides, I know you can’t say no to your best friend.”

“Oh, best friends? Is that what we are?” You couldn’t hold back the laugh and Satoru grinned too.

You and Gojo are not a couple. Not officially, anyway, because if you asked anyone who knows you just enough, they would certainly say you’re in relationship. And it felt that too, it felt beautiful, and intimate and oh-so real. Dinners that led to breakfasts, pecks that led to long displays of passion and so many feelings involved into every moment you share made the situation between you two feel very much like a couple. And you love him, so much – in fact, there’s so much love that you feel towards him that it’s nearly impossible to describe in words. You went with him through the good and bad, you experienced the worst and also the best. Every low has always led to an awesome high, no downs went without the ups.

“I don’t care how you wanna call us,” Gojo smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “To me, you are everything.” It was a moment. A seriousness in the blue orbs that made for such rare picture that it took your breath away, before his expression changed yet again. This time, a smile tugged on his lips, a sheepish mixture with smugness. “I could call you my wife. Do you want to be my wife?” He was playful, his grin developing, lightening up his gorgeous features. That idiot.

He made you laugh, yet again you felt like falling in love.

“Your wife, huh?”

“Who would say no to that?” He asked, peeling away the layers of bedsheets between your bodies, and struggling with the tangle of comforters and blankets that he himself created just few moments before. “Having all of this to yourself?” Satoru made a theatrical gesture pointing at his own body from head to toes, making a point of how impressive his entirety is. “Your name with my last name sounds great also. And dick, let’s not forget about my dick.”

“Yeah, right, it’s the dick that does it for me,” you were laughing. The warmth was filling every cell of your body.

“Knew that.”

“You’re an idiot. But I love you, Satoru.”

“I love you too.”

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eddiesxangel · 5 months

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Hey, Mr. Claus🎅🏻 | Santa!Eddie x Reader

Holiday Prompt Party hosted by @allthingsjoeq and @bettyfrommars 🥰

Prompt: You can tell that the mall Santa is a babe under that beard, and you decide to get closer to investigate.

CW: This is loosely based on a TikTok I saw. Flirting and fluff.

WC: 1.4k

“Santa! Santa!” Your three-year-old nephew tugged your hand as he ran towards the man in red walking towards you.

“Yeah, buddy, Santa!” You smiled as he tugged you closer and closer just before his hand slipped from yours and charged the man dressed up in a fake white beard, red and white fluffy hat and suit, headed in your direction.

“Christopher! You get back here right now!” You yell as you chase after him through the halls of the busy mall. He doesn’t listen to you. He completely ignores you as he runs into the arms of the mall Santa. You watch as Santa opens his arms wide and embraces the little boy with a big smile, not seeming bothered by the little boy who has just tackled him.

If you weren’t so worried, it would be the most darling thing you’ve witnessed this year.

“Ho ho ho, who do we have here?” You heard the very fake, deep voice addressing you and your nephew.

“I’m chwistopho!” Your nephew shrieks as he gazes up at the fake bearded man.

"Now, Christopher, you know running away from your mommy isn't nice. She looked very worried; he crouched down to his level. Giving you a little wink. His brown eyes were memorizing and took you aback as you approached the two of them. He was much younger than any Santa you've ever encountered before. His nose was flushed red as if he had put on blush to make it look cold. His eyes were rimmed with white eyeliner, making them more cartoonish and round. He also had black lines where crowss feet would be if he was older.

“That’s not my Mommy! That’s my Auntie!” He giggles like Santa is the silliest man on earth.

"Ho ho ho! I am so silly, of course, I knew that wasn't your Mommy! I know all the children of the world and their parents; I was testing you! Good lad." The cute young mall Santa chuckled.

“Come on buddy, Santa is on his break for his milk and cookies, we don’t want to bother him anymore. You don’t want to get on the naughty list.” That caught his attention really quick.

“I’ve been a good boy!” He protested while snuggling into Santa’s fluffy suit.

“I know you’ve been a good boy. I’ll be visiting your house. Don’t you worry!” Santa exclaimed as he picked up your nephew in his arms.

“See, little bear, don’t worry, Santa had your back.” You wink.

"Don't you worry either" Santa addressed you now. "I'm sure you're on my nice list as well." Was Santa flirting me you?

You couldn't help but feel your cheeks heat up as Santa passed your nephew back with open arms.

"What do we say to Santa?" You asked the little boy in your arms.

"Thank you!" He squealed as he blew a kiss to the not-so-old man.

Christopher let you know he was so excited to tell his mom and dad how he met Santa today and that you were the best auntie ever!

"You also tell him that he owes me one when we get you home. Okay, buddy?” You tell Christopher as you walk away from the mall Santa; wishing you got to speak to him more. He rambled on so much as you walked back to the exit, that you didn't get a proper chance to say goodbye to Santa.

You still couldn't get the cute young Santa out of your head the following day. You thought about him all night, replaying how adorable the interaction had been between Christopher and him. So you decided to go back to the mall today and see if you could find him.

You found the line to take pictures with Santa in the middle of the mall, it wasn’t hard to miss because the lineup for it was outrageous. You hoped they were paying him well, there were way too many kids here. You rounded the corner to the back of the line and hoped this was worth it.

After going back and forth with yourself on what you would say to him, you’d chickened out a few times before hyping yourself back up. Before you knew it you were next in line after forty-five minutes of absolute self-torcher.

As you examine the man in the big red suit, you observe how tired he is until his eyes lock on you. He immediately fixes his posture, his smile seems more genuine, and his big doe eyes brighten.

You take a deep breath and walk up with all the fake confidence in the world, knowing you look weird without a kid.

"Ho ho ho, have a seat, Sugar Plum and tell Santa what you want for Christmas!" He patted his knee with a white-gloved hand.

You tentatively go to sit on his knee and wrap an arm around his shoulder while he wraps around your waist in a tight grip.

"Hi," you meekly smile.

"Hi, Snow Angel." He smiled brightly. You can see his straight white teeth smile through the god-awful fake beard.

"Now, what is it you want for Christmas." Santa, aka Eddie, scolded himself for having to keep up the dumb act while the prettiest girl he's ever seen is willingly here in his lap.

"What I want for Christmas is to see if you're really as cute as I think you are under all of this." you gesture to his get-up. "Do you think I deserve that? I am on the nice list; after all." You playfully bat your eyes hoping you are not making a fool of yourself.

Santa Eddie chuckled. "I think that can be arranged. I'll have my Elves on that one straight away!"

“Great, call me.” You slip him a small paper with your name and phone number. But not before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before popping up from his lap, and methodically swaying your hips a little hoping he would stare at your ass and you walked away.

Eddie couldn’t believe what just happened. He picked up a girl dressed in a fake beard and a smelly tacky red getup. And not just any girl. The girl from yesterday with the bright eyes and beautiful smile. He would be lying if he’d said he hadn’t wished he got your name yesterday.

It was hard to get it together after you’d flustered him. He called for a fifteen-minute break after you had left because he needed to collect himself.

He examined your handwriting; he thought your loopy scrawl was cute. He smirked at the little hearts you drew at the corner. And couldn’t wait for his shift to be over to call you.

Eddie called around 8:00pm that night. You discovered his name was Eddie, not St.Nicholas, Kris Kringle, or Mr. Claus. His normal voice was hot, and you were nervous to see what he looked like. He asked to meet for coffee on Saturday at noon between being flirty and funny, and you couldn’t wait.

Eddie called you every day for the next 3 days until Saturday. You were nervous but excited to see Eddie’s proper form.

You had gotten to the cafe at 11:53am. You sat in the parking lot until 11:59am and gathered the courage to leave your car. You scanned the room until you saw a pair of brown eyes you couldn’t ever forget. Your breath hitched as he waved and stood up from the booth he reserved for the two of you.

He wasn’t what you expected; honestly, you hadn’t known what to expect, but he was hot. Eddie was way hotter than you anticipated. Like really really hot. His hair was a lot longer than you expected, and he wore a black leather jacket over a black band shirt you didn’t recognize, black jeans and black boots. As he came closer, you saw he had painted his nails black and accessorized with chunky silver rings. He had a five o’clock shadow and had a bit of white liner still rimming his water line he probably couldn’t wash off.

“Hey,” he smiled and pulled you into a hug. His body was bigger than yours, and he smelled so good. It was much better than the dusty old suit he wore when you met him.

“Hi, Santa,” you smile.

“Careful, Sugar Plum; I know the big guy and can get you kicked off the nice list if you keep up that teasing.” He playfully points as you take a step closer.

“Who says I wanna be on the nice list? Maybe I like being naughty.” You smirked while playing with the collar of his shirt.

“Oh ho ho, I knew I would like you,” he laughed.

“Pack it in Santa. I’m here for Eddie.” You raise onto your tip toes to kiss his cheek.

Eddie guided you to the booth, and you couldn’t believe you were on a date with the mall Santa Claus…

Read a smutty part 2 here

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot

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anna-hawk · 9 months

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The Eggnog Effect

Nicomund the Red | Santa Claus x F!Reader

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

WC: 6.2k // Explicit 🔞

Warnings: Christmas smut, bad jokes and cheesy wordplays

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

Also on AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where the fuck is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure?” you grinned.

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

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

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

“How… Who…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I on the naughty list yet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled and pressed his gloved finger against his nose.

“Merry Christmas.”

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

One year later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nicomund met your gaze and smirked at your gobsmacked expression.

“Merry Christmas,” he rumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you hissed, kissing him deeply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chuckling, Nicomund leaned down to your eye level.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled and stroked a thick thumb over your jaw.

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

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

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

“But cookies always need – oh fuck!”

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

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

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

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

You nodded. “Please? Nicomund… Please!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With no surprise, you were alone the next morning.

One week later.

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

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

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

“Happy new year?” he rumbled tentatively.

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

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

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

#Nicomund x reader #violent night #santa x reader #reader insert #violent night fanfiction #david harbour #christmas smut #yes I'm aware it's August 🤣

658 notes · View notes

artemiseamoon · 4 months

Text

What the heart wants

Pero Tovar x F Reader*

🤶🏾🎁Secret Santa fic ✨ for @blueeyesatnight !!! ✨ Happy holidays! (event hosted by @pedrostories )

Read below * or on A03

Words: 7,621

Summary: As Spring rolls around, you find yourself content with your life. Business is successful, you have all the independence you want and good friends to share life with. A man wasn't something you needed or were seeking at the time as occasional lovers fulfilled your primal urges. But it was clear, life had other plans as a handsome but dirty mercenary blew through your doors.

Warnings: some canon period misogyny (not much), Pero 😂, language, brothel mention & mild sexual content.

*Reader notes: there are some details!!! So it’s not a completely blank slate; reader is female, in her upper 30s, sturdy/curvy built (visualize as you please) & often wears pants not dresses. No skin tone/race mentioned but she does understand & speak some Spanish. *Feel free to read as an OC if you prefer*

AN: If you already know me, you know I no longer crosspost to this site, nor write reader inserts. Since this is a special occasion, it’s both a RC & crossposted (here & on my A03) 😁 happy reading! This was so fun to write.

You

Holding the cuff to the afternoon light, you examined your work closely, feeling satisfied with the end result. Growing up the daughter of a blacksmith, you learned several things, and though you could make a sword, you quickly found you preferred making jewelry; it filled you with joy, especially when you saw the end result and the look on people's faces.

You had kitchenware under your belt too, it was the kind of thing that always bought in coin, as it was a needed everyday item. Currently, you are perfecting your skills in armor making. You started to learn back in your early 20s, now in your late 30’s you could create decent work, but you wanted to be better. Never one to back down from a challenge, you made it your newest goal.

You just set the new cuff aside when the small bell chimed, filling the halls with the familiar sound. Stepping away from the desk, you peeked out of the doorway and down the hall, where you had a straight shot of the front door.

You quirked a brow as a man you’ve never seen before stalked in, the wind sweeping inside with him, along with a bad mood like a dark cloud overhead. Upon first glance, he almost seemed inconvenienced, yet you saw him walk in alone, no one forced him.

He was handsome with dark features, but dirty, and needed a good shave. The stranger wore the kind of scowl that would keep people ten feet away from him. His attire and the double swords strapped to his back gave his profession away, a mercenary. They often traveled through these parts en route to somewhere else and stayed a night or two; it made good coin for the local businesses when they did.

You thought about revealing yourself but chose to watch him a little longer. You observed him as he moved deeper into the shop, his eyes moving about the place as he took it in.

He scratched his beard, grumbling something you couldn’t hear, as he touched and poked at things along the way. He was a fascinating creature to watch, and one of the best-looking men you’ve seen in a long time, even under all the dirt and grime, and the sharp chip on his shoulder. That’s when you noticed the scar, one that made you curious about the how, and made him even hotter at the same time.

Even his walk was attractive, he seemed more like a wild animal than a man, like a feral wolf just wandered into your shop and right into your hands.

Pero (minutes ago)

Dragging his feet, Pero made his way through the town, eyeing signs on doors and windows, looking for work. He was tired, bone tired, his back hurt like all hell, his ass was numb from being on his horse so long, and he was annoyed. He was starving, he ran out of rations early this morning and was running on a piece of stale bread at the moment. He’d try one more place, then get some damn food, followed by a room, a bath, and a whore.

He was about halfway down the block when he noticed the blacksmith sign. In his half hour here, it seemed West Meadow had no work for him requiring his swords, but a man could always be useful in a shop like that.

Pero entered, his stomach grumbling and fighting with him. He expected to see a forge as soon as he walked in but was met with a plain room with a simple desk, two chairs, and a long table. Ahead was a hallway that likely led to some other rooms. The smells of iron, steel, wax, and fire met his nose, there was definitely a forge, maybe in the back.

Where the hell was everyone?

Patience wasn’t a friend of his. He called out and was only met with his own echo.

Cursing under this breath, he decided to ditch this plan for now, and just get some food. A door opened in the distance. He turned, expecting to see a man appear, but a man it wasn't.

Pero tilted his head to the side as his eyes raked over you. You were beautiful, with a face that was downright distracting, but that wasn’t all, when you smiled, you nearly knocked his bad mood right out of him. Your smile was so full and bright that he finally understood what that stupid saying, bright as the sun, meant.

You were well-built, sturdy, and curvy in the right places. That was clear even with the heavy apron you wore. Pero raised his eyes back to your own. Even the smudges on your face and a mask over your hair didn’t take away from your beauty.

Pero regained his composure, then asked gruffly, “who's in charge?”

Your smile dropped, “well, hello to you too.”

“Where’s your husband or father?”

“Are you serious?” you rested a hand on your hip.

His eyes dropped to your hand, you were wearing gloves, so he didn't know if you wore a ring or not, “Brother?”

An irritated laugh fell out of you as you shook your head.

“Unless…” he started, “you’re alone here?”

“I am the owner, you ass.” you held up your hands, then tore off a glove, “no husband either!”

He looked at you with disbelief in his eyes, “a woman alone, here? "his accent coming out even more now.

“Yes,” you growled back at him, growing more agitated.

Your initial sunny demeanor was gone, now you were like a cat with your claws out.

“Lo siento, “he held out a hand as he apologized like he was trying to calm a bull, “I’m just looking for work.”

He had a lot of questions.

A woman was usually married, which you weren’t, taken, or would be under her father's supervision, which you weren’t either. Or a whore, which you didn’t seem to be. You also claimed to run this business on your own, which was unusual. And you didn’t have a man guarding the door either, you were strange in fact, very strange.

“Not hiring,” you replied in Spanish, which made him raise a brow at you. “You can go now.”

You & Pero

What an ass.

You thought, sure he was hot, and you were very intrigued, but you didn’t need the attitude or the barbaric mindset. There were enough assholes in town who had opinions about you, and the kind of life you should live. You didn’t need some dirty mercenary putting his two cents in the matter.

You only made it a few steps away from him before stopping, you could feel him lingering, his eyes on you. You doubled back. You assessed him with your eyes and pulled the mask fully off your head.

Maybe he could be useful, you thought. “What are you good at?”

He smirked, taking a half step your way, “You really the boss?”

“Yes.” you hissed.

“Swords, blades, knives.” he paused, his eyes still on yours, even as he pointed at his suit, “repairs.”

“Hmmm,” you crossed your arms while continuing to study him. “I do all that. No need for you.”

He chuckled. Yeah, he liked you, he liked you a lot. Before he could stop himself, he asked,

“Is this really your place? No man is hiding back there?”

You rolled your eyes and pointed to the door, “see the name on the fucking sign, that’s my last name. My father is too old to work, I have no brothers, this place is mine. Got a problem with that?”

He smirked, liking the sass, this kitty scratches. “No problem.”

You locked in a stare with him, almost getting distracted by his eyes, you could lose yourself in them. In the back of your mind, you thought about the long list of things you had to do, and an extra hand around here might be good, but you weren’t sure if you’d reveal that to him yet.

You pointed to the door, “I’ll think about it. Come back tomorrow.”

Pero was about to say something when the door opened, he turned to see a man enter, then quickly looked at you again, seeing your smile return. Damn, it was a sight to see.

The man moved right past Pero like he wasn’t there and went straight to you. As you greeted each other, you pulled a pouch out of your apron and revealed a metal wristband.

“I was just about to send word, it’s finished,” you display your work proudly.

Pero grinned, a woman metalsmith, how odd. You continued to intrigue him by the second.

“Lovely work as always,” the man said your name while admiring it.

Your eyes darted to Pero’s. “Tomorrow,” you repeated sharply.

Pero huffed, then saw himself out.

Early Evening, The Three Bucks Inn & Tavern

As Pero parked himself at a table off to the side, he took in his surroundings. The Tavern was busy with locals, and a few people who looked like visitors.

“Can I get ya anything?” the barmaid asked as she stopped by this table, she spoke over the crowd, making sure he could hear her.

“Food and ale,” Pero answered while slapping the silver coins on the table.

She pocketed the coins. “Anything else?”

Pero sat back, really looking at her this time. The woman was good-looking, a little thin for him, he preferred them thicker. Like that woman from the shop, you were sturdy, you could handle him. He shrugged the thought away. A whore would be better anyway, get in, get laid, go to bed.

“A room and a whore,”

He’d been on the road for months, he needed to fuck a woman as bad as he needed a good bath and a shave. Plus, a good night's sleep, on a bed for once. He was getting older; all the years had taken their toll on his body. He was still skilled and quick on his feet, but he required more rest now.

“I’ll get ya a bed.” she pointed toward the door, “Take a left past the carriage house. Walk till you reach the end of West Street. Madame Mae’s is the last house on the corner. No missing it. Red door. Just about as subtle as you are.”

Pero frowned as the woman left to fulfill the order.

He was looking forward to a hot meal, real food, not the shit he was surviving on for the last few months. He hoped the whores at Mae’s were decent, he’d fuck what he could get, but someone nice to look at would be even better.

Well, you would be better. He tried to put you out of his mind, but like a phantom, you wouldn’t leave, he kept thinking about your smile, your form, and the way you shot venom with your eyes when he pissed you off. If you know how to forge metal, you could likely use a sword too, and the thought made his cock twitch.

The whore would have to do it, but you would be better.

Later, Pero

Now that Pero had a bath, a shave, and a satisfactory fuck with a decent whore, a good night's rest was next. But it was still a little early and he was feeling restless.

Mierda

Maybe he should have gone with William. But what the fuck would he have done with himself? His blonde-haired friend had done the foolish thing of falling in love and doubled back to the place they left behind nearly a year ago. After they left the wall, they spent months on the road, taking jobs and for Pero at least, trying to get China out of his mind.

Pero’s solo journey wasn’t going so well, and if had to spend another 3-5 months on horseback, starving, cold, horny, and bearing the weather, he’d kill someone. A lot of someones.

Pero wanted to stop moving, just for a little while, make some money at the same time. A lot of money, preferably. He already spent most of this year and last on the move, and if this town had no work, he’d just drag himself to the next.

Soon his restlessness, and busy mind led him to leave the bed. Leaving the inn, he stepped out onto the street, the townspeople were enjoying the weather, and the night market was still going, though some vendors were starting to pack up.

Pero only walked a few minutes before he saw you again. You were chatting with a vendor, a woven basket in one hand, full of various items. You were dressed in a dark tunic tucked into dark pants and boots, with a blade holstered to your right thigh. He expected to see you in skirts outside of the shop, but again, you were no ordinary woman, not by any stretch.

Pero lingered in the background, watching, soon he heard your laugh for the first time. Fuck, it was wonderful, just as wonderful as your smile. You were both the sweetest thing he’d ever seen, and mean as a snake when pressed, you also looked like you could throw a punch, and he liked that.

As the vendor made you laugh again, Pero felt something else and wanted to kick himself for it. He spent a total of 5 minutes with you, what the fuck did he have to be jealous about? He chalked it up to his sleep-deprived state, and maybe needing to get laid again tomorrow - that should calm him down.

There you were, his shadow, and all it took was 5 minutes. He thought about you all day, in the bath while he jerked off, and even when he fucked that whore. Pero felt ridiculous. Maybe William wasn’t the foolish one, maybe it was him.

Before he could stop himself, his feet were moving as he made his way over to you.

You

You felt eyes on you the whole time but could finally pinpoint the source. There he was, coming your way. All dark and broody and sexy as hell and cleaned up.

“Oh, the brute. Are you stalking me?”

He grunted, “No.”

“Sure?” You smirked as you shifted the basket to your other hand. “Because stalking is not a good way to get hired. In fact, it’s creepy.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, cariño. If I want a woman, I pay a whore.”

You raised your brows at him, what you were feeling wasn’t offense, it was something you couldn’t put your hands on.

“Well, the next time you go, why don’t you ask for a job. Maybe they’re hiring.” Without giving him time to respond, you were off, taking long strides away from him.

No matter how hot he was, he was irritating as hell. Brute, yeah, that was a good fit and that's what he was. The last thing you needed was to get involved with a guy like him.

No. Do not go there, you remind yourself. Even if he was hot as sin.

The next day, You and Pero

You were just setting up for a ring you’re working on, then the bell chimed.

It was much too early for clients, and there was only one person you could think of who would be here right now. You weren't sure if you hoped it was him, or dreaded the possibility. Leaving the work desk, you stepped out into the front room and saw him standing there.

“Ugh.” You sighed then headed back into the other room.

In the back of your mind, you thought of bringing your dogs next time, so they could watch the front door.

Pero took it upon himself to follow you inside. You leaned against the desk with crossed arms.

“What?”

“You said come back tomorrow.”

You were listening, well, half listening. He looked even better than he did yesterday, in the light of day, you could fully appreciate all the grooming he did.

As you noticed last night, he got a haircut, but it was still long enough to grab, to run your finger through. Unable to stop yourself, your eyes slid down his face, over his excellent bone structure, the cleaned-up beard, and down to his neck, even that part of him was sexy. You could feast your eyes on him for hours.

“Happy to see me?” He smirked, stopping in front of you, enjoying the way you greedily took him in.

“Not really,”

Pero's stance was confident, eye contact unwavering. “You need my help. Hire me.”

“What? So, you could protect me from men and beasts? I have a feeling you are both.”

He chuckled, fully amused, “I could,” he shrugged, “I am.”

“Besides, I’ve been in my share of fights. I’m good with sharp things.”

Fuck, Pero thought, your words hitting him right in his core and going lower. You were special.

“The team we’d make then, why not have the best swordsman on your grounds?”

You uncrossed your arms, "and you’re full of yourself, what a winner. I don’t need your help.”

Pero scoffed. “You’re short a man. Injury.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, how did he know that?

Auden hurt his arm pretty bad last week, it was mainly you and him here, he was your main employee. You had two apprentices, but they weren’t where they needed to be yet, you were carrying the bulk of work on your shoulders. This handsome, grumpy stranger did his homework.

Still, he irritated you, so you said, “I don’t need you. You can go now.”

Pero hated that. He didn’t mean to be so rough when he reached out to grab your wrist, but he didn’t like being dismissed.

He didn’t even know what he was going to say, just grabbed you, making you spin around to face him. Your eyes burned with anger and something else more sensual behind that. Before he could speak, you slapped him, clear across the cheek. He was more impressed than mad.

As he rubbed his face and chuckled, you grabbed an unfinished blade from the table and pressed the sharp edge to his neck. His brown eyes widened as he stared at you.

“Get the fuck out.” You warned through gritted teeth.

Your lips, that’s where his eyes went, even with a blade to his throat.

Instead of a fight, a counter move, or a slew of curses, Pero's sultry gaze lingered on your lips, then met your eyes again. Despite yourself, you stole a glance of his mouth, and those kissable lips of his.

Sure, the mercenary was a pain in the ass. Whatever depths of hell dragged this man to your front door, you didn’t know. He was like a dog who kept coming back and you didn’t totally hate that. In fact, you -

The bell over the front door chimed as a customer came in. You both heard it, yet remained locked in a tense lust-filled stare. When you licked your lips, simply to moisten them, his eyes followed the movement. The bastard didn’t even flinch with the blade to his neck.

Why have a whore when he could have you? Pero thought, the idea followed by images that awakened him in other places.

“Hello?” The patron called out your name, you knew who it was by voice alone.

“One minute,” you shouted back, eyes still on Pero.

“Repairs, the two blades I told you about,” they said from beyond the door.

“I start now,” Pero stated with a smug grin.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He chuckled, finding your astonishment cute. Pero took one more indulgent, long look at you then stepped out into the main room.

Unable to move, the blade still in your hand, you stared at the door. Did he really just walk in here, hire himself, then look at you like you were a steak dinner? Yeah, he did.

“Pendejo.” You cursed, then pushed the door open. “I don’t even know his name…”

Two weeks later, You & Pero

Pero continued to annoy and intrigue you at the same time. He was a good worker, skilled, able to repair things and even knew how to make swords and blades. It was impressive.

He wasn’t a warm guy, which was obvious from first impressions, an acquired taste really. You kept him away from interacting with customers because of his harsh, curt demeanor, leaving him to mainly work in the workshop and behind the scenes, while you handled the front of the house, you, or your apprentices Nura and Robert.

You liked Nura the most, not that Robert was bad, he was a fast learner, and attentive worker. It was just extra special training another woman. You enjoyed seeing her defy the social norms and carve out her own path, same as you. You saw her like a little sister.

Everything ran smoothly at the shop, but the two of you still didn't know much about each other on a personal level. Pero didn’t talk about himself, or his life, nor did you.

Having him around gave you more free time, and you used some of that to dive into your other love, herbalism. One of your dreams was to open an apothecary, the town already had one, but you wanted your own, and you already knew how to make yours extra special.

This dream was on your mind when you cleared out a back room in the building and started to play around with tinctures and blends on your downtime. Pero made little comments along the way when he saw you in there, they gave you a few clues about him.

Being on the road, he knew a few things and recognized some of the herbs. He had a comfort there, but when you were creating potions as he called it, you noticed he’d get a little freaked out, and it didn’t take long to figure out he had a thing about magic and witches.

You weren’t a witch, but you knew how to make some things, and some days, just to fuck with him, you exaggerated.

- Flashback, to a few days ago -

You only stepped away for a moment but returned to see Pero observing the jars from a distance. He stopped at a corked bottle with an unusual purple hue, and some kind of clawed root at the bottom.

Pero picked it up cautiously, then put it down, “what kind of witchery is this?”

You leaned against the wall and crossed your arms in a relaxed way, “ingredients to turn you into a dragon.”

Pero whipped around to you with a suspicious look, “Are you joking?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “unless, you piss me off.”

“I always piss you off.”

"You better be careful then. And stop leaving your hair around, I’m collecting it.”

As you laughed and walked out of the room, he ran his palm over his hair, which only made you laugh more.

- Flashback over -

Three weeks later, Pero

The tavern was alive, packed wall to wall, and the revelry high; it was a special night as you threw Nura a birthday party.

Pero didn’t do parties, but it was better than sulking in his room alone, and he was pretty tired of the whores at Mae’s. He’s been here over a month now, fucked most of them all, and it did little to calm what he really needed and wanted, you.

Whenever he saw you laughing, having a good time, or flirting he was tempted to march over and claim you for himself, to kiss you in front of everyone and make it clear he would cut the head off any man who tried to win your affection.

Pero was sure you were attracted to him, he caught the stolen glances, still you never made a move or voiced your attraction. He knew you weren’t shy. Was it him? Were you doing this to torture him? What a wicked witch you were.

Even when he had two whores the other night, it only took the edge off. How you haunted him so. He felt defeated, maybe? But he wasn’t a quitter. He’d get you all for himself somehow. Pero wished William was here, the blonde would give him advice, advice he needed because Pero wasn’t good at shit like this.

Fighting, fucking, eating, and drinking, be had that down. But trying to win a woman’s heart, he had no fucking idea how to do that. He had to do this right. He didn’t want you just once, he wanted you for good.

Could it be, were you his...princesa? No. You weren't a princess. You we're tough. You looked after yourself and made your own way in life. No, reina, that's more fitting.

Where’s the Irishman when I need him? I could use your help amigo.

As a drunk man bumped into his table, Pero scowled at him, then lost himself in thought again, downing his ale at the same time. Things you like, yes, he’d start there. Women like gifts, right?

He noticed you enough at the markets to know some things, including your favorite dessert at the bakery. Good. A plan. He nodded to himself, then stood. He stole one more glance of you, across the way and having a good time, then made his way out of the tavern.

The next morning

Your head was spinning, too much ale. To make up for that, you pushed your work back to the afternoon and planned to take a nap upstairs once Pero got in. Last night came to mind, he was there, then he wasn’t. You were surprised he even came.

“Speak of the devil,” you said while rubbing your temples.

Pero nodded, looking a bit awkward, then put the bag he was holding for dear life on the desk. “Here.”

You poked the bag, “what is this?”

He scratched his temple, his brown eyes looking puppy-like, “uh, that sweet round thing, with cream and berries.”

You grinned, “from the bakery?”

“Sí.”

You bite back a full smile, then open the bag, “is poisoned?”

Pero sighed and then started to walk away.

“I’m joking!” you shouted back at him, “thank you Pero.”

He glanced back, and you swore you could see a little smile on his closed lips.

The week would be full of surprises. It started on Monday when he got your favorite dessert from Sweets n Breads Bakery. He was kind of awkward all day, didn’t say much to you, and seemed wrapped up in his own thoughts.

On Tuesday, there was another pastry waiting for you, and some of your to-do list was already completed. He explained he worked late and decided to get more done.

On Wednesday, you arrived to another pastry, and flowers with dirt and roots still attached, flowers you were sure he tore from someone's garden on the way over. Soil was all over the place, and you had to dust it off your papers.

He didn’t hand them to you directly, just busied himself in the forge while they sat on your desk. You waited until he was free to ask him about them. He was just finishing his lunch in the kitchen when you joined him.

“So, flowers.”

His eyes moved over you as he swallowed the last of his food, “women like flowers, yes? Even women who wear pants?"

Pero was panicking a little this morning, worried the pastry wasn't enough. On the way to work, he saw a guy give a girl flowers, and then get a kiss in return, so he figured, why not try. Even if he felt like a damn fool doing it.

You could see his mind going as you watched him. He was so cute, so innocent in this moment, you could kiss him right there. You also knew from the mix of flowers, they were from Mrs. Jennings' garden, and she was likely throwing a fit right now.

“Ever give a girl flowers before?” you asked as you sat next to him.

“No,” he answered, his eyes on you.

“Well, thank you,”

He shrugged, playing it cool, but you could see in his eyes he was hoping you liked his gesture.

“And the pastry, it was delicious, you’re buttering me up, Pero.”

“You like them. Yes?”

“I do.”

He smiled and relaxed back in his chair.

You leaned in closer, playing with his collar, “I won't say it's working but - “ you plant a kiss on his cheek. His eyes lit up as he smiled wider. “I have work to do.” You got up, taking one more look at him before leaving the room.

Thursday

Nura was organizing something when Pero came in, he walked in like he was in a hurry, and spoke in a low tone,

“I have a question.”

She looked up at him with a smile, knowing it was about you.

At first, she thought Pero was an ass, which he is, but she liked him now, he grew on her, and when it came to you, he was kind of adorable and an idiot at the same time.

“If it's about flowers, Mrs. Jennings is on a warpath, I recommend you stop taking them before she bites your hand off. She may be old, but she's mean as hell.”

He nodded, then came around the desk to join Nura.

“What else does she like? Boots? I could buy her boots?"

“She likes practical things. Maybe something she could use.”

“She likes swords.”

“She loves them, maybe a little too much.”

“What if I make her one?”

“Pastries and flowers are nice, so are boots, but if you make her a custom sword, that may do the trick. No promises, just sayin.”

Pero nodded, he grumbled a thank you, then headed back to the forge. Robert passed him in the hall and joined Nura.

“That's a man on a mission, nearly ran me over.”

“He’s smitten.” she handed him a note, "the supplies.”

“Somehow he seems a little less - grumpy these days.”

“Little by little, but I think even if he is in a good mood, he’d still be grumpy.”

Robert hummed, “I still don't get why she likes him so much.”

“I think I do; they’d be cute together.”

Not agreeing, but not going to argue either, Robert just nodded, then made his way out with the list.

Days later

You weren’t supposed to come in today, so when you came through the door, rushing like a bat out of hell, it took Pero by surprise. Not just because he didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow, it was the dress that shocked him the most. In all his time here, dark colored tops, pants, and boots were how you dressed yourself.

“I’m not here, ignore me,” you shouted as you rushed past him, then Nura.

The younger woman caught a glimpse of Pero’s expression and laughed.

“She’s wearing a dress..."

“Once in a blue moon, for special occasions. Her childhood friend is getting married today.” Nura explained.

Pero’s brows raised higher as you appeared again, a pouch in hand.

“A dress-" he repeated, taking you in with his eyes.

You hiked up the dress, he got a flash of your legs as you carefully slid the pouch into your high boot.

As you smoothed the fabric down, Pero feasted on you. To see you like this, so feminine as the soft flowing fabric hugged your form and for the first time, he had a good look at your cleavage, the fabric cupping your breasts in a way the loose shirts never did; he was a man ready to pounce, to scale the counter and claim you then and there.

“Fuck-“ you cursed,

He laughed. Strong and independent, a mouth like a sailor. A lady, and a warrior in one. His perfect woman.

“Can’t believe I forgot this. I gotta go,” you started to breeze past them, then stopped as you locked eyes with Pero. You grinned, eyeing him with the same sultry gaze he sent your way. “Like it?” You asked while giving a teasing spin.

“Sí, you should wear more dresses.”

“Maybe one more this year, if you give me a good reason to,” you winked at him then dashed out of the door.

“That woman -“ Pero shook his head as he stared at the door.

“Oh you are far gone Pero,” Nura patted his arm, “just tell her already.”

“Tell her what ?”

“How you feel. I’m sure you’ve noticed; she has other suitors.”

“And I’ll fight them all.” He grew serious.

Dammit, the thought. He came here for work, rest and to get laid. He didn’t expect this, he didn’t plan to -

Nura’s light laugh pulled him out of his head. “Just tell her. She likes you too.”

“She flirts with me but makes no moves.”

“You really are adorable when confused.”

“Adorable? I’m not adorable.”

She chuckled, “Have you considered that she wants you to make the first move?”

“She’s no weak woman, she makes swords and wears pants.”

“That doesn’t mean she doesn't want to be perused, she takes charge daily, maybe she wants someone else, you, to take the lead this time.” She playfully tapped Pero’s head

He groaned and swatted her hand.

“Take the lead Pero, don’t overthink it,” Nura advised, then laid her hands on the counter. “We have a lot of work to do, ready?”

“Ready.”

As they headed back, he asked something he was curious about. He started by saying your name,

“Are you the same as her? No husband?”

“No, and there won’t be. I’m gay.” She answered.

Pero quirked a brow.

She added, “I like women. And I do have a girlfriend, the bartender at three bucks, with freckles.”

Ah, Pero thought, he’d seen her before.

“This is a strange place indeed,” he muttered, “I’ve never been to a place like this, with such women.”

“I like to think our town is special. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have people with opinions or those who accuse us of devil worship or witchcraft.”

“Are you, a witch?”

“I know some things, “she grinned, “can I watch you finish that armored plate before I start my work?”

Pero grinned, “Sí, vamos.”

The kid, well Nura wasn’t a kid, she was 25 now, but he called her that sometimes; she had given him some good advice about you and handled his moods with ease.

In Pero’s time here, Robert still wasn’t a fan of his, but they had no fights between them minus some minor disagreements. Your main guy, Audin, was still in recovery but came in from time to time to help with smaller things. His role reduced until he got better. Pero liked the guy, what little he saw of him.

In these weeks, Pero found himself most fond of Nura, she was like the little sister he never asked for. He could see why you liked her so much and why you took her under your wing.

A couple of weeks later

Pero studied his work with a sharp eye, searching for any imperfections.

Any other time he made a blade, it was robotic, just doing something he knew how to do, but this mattered more than any of those times. It had to be perfect because he was shit with words, he hoped he could hand you this and you would know all the things he wanted to say to you.

Months ago, if someone told him a woman like you existed, he would have laughed and called bullshit. But you were real, very real, and meant to be his. For you, he’d move into this town for good, put the long journeys to rest, and figure out all that shit he avoided all his life, like how to win a woman's heart and share his life with someone. He was sure he'd fuck up, a lot, piss you off, and get it wrong, but as long as he had you, he would keep trying to get it right.

Once the blade was packed up, he made his way to your house on the edge of town. He was nervous, more than he'd been in a long time, and he felt foolish. He wondered what Willaim would say if he saw him right now.

Pero stared at the door, part of him wanting to knock, and the other wanting to run, to turn around and get the hell out of here before he got himself even more wrapped up in this, in you.

It had to be witchery; how else would you have such a hold on him?

What are you waiting for, get moving, Pero heard in his friend's voice, phantom William pushing him forward. He could hear the dogs barking and coming his way in the distance.

Pero knocked on the door…

Once Pero was inside, you offered him a drink. He sat at your kitchen table as you poured ciders then went over to him.

“A home visit, what’s the special occasion?” you asked as you sat.

“Visiting the dogs." he smirked.

"Of course," you shook your head and took a drink.

Over the last few weeks, you’ve seen a new side of Pero emerge, and it made you like him more.

You’ve made the first move before and thought about doing that with him, but it would be so much more fun if he did it. You wanted him to charge in here and ravish you, and you were hoping today was the day, but the sense of nervousness you’re getting off of him makes you unsure.

“I have something for you,” he pulled a wrapped item from his pouch. He placed it on the table as his eyes met yours. “A gift.”

“Really?”

Pero watched, holding his breath as you unwrapped it, revealing the most perfect blade you’ve ever seen. Down to the handle, and the engravings. In the past, you made a few for yourself but always felt like you were missing something. Pero, this man sent to you from the universe, somehow got it right.

You held the blade, running your fingers over it, admiring it as your lips parted slightly in shock. At first, Pero was worried you didn’t like it, but as your eyes lit up, he relaxed and dropped his shoulders.

“Pero - “ you breathed, your eyes flicking to his, then back at the blade. “This is perfect.”

His small grin turned to a full smile and before you could say anything else, he dragged your chair closer to his with one hand. While cupping your cheek, Pero leaned in, bringing his lips to yours.

Smiling as he kissed you, you put the blade down and grabbed his arms. Pero drew you into his lap as the kiss deepened, intensifying with each pass of each other's lips.

His kiss was passionate, consuming, desperate and you could swear, your body was feeling all the things he wanted to say to you and was too afraid to say; the floodgates blasted open and as your hands roamed, finally exploring each other's bodies, you knew there was no going back after this.

"Mi reina, I'll fuck you on the floor if I have to. But it must happen now."

The hoarse desperation in his voice only made you hotter for him.

You tugged his hair while teasing another kiss, “I prefer a bed handsome. Follow me.”

“Gladly.”

You held out your hand, he took it. As you made your way to the bedroom, Pero latched on to you, kissing and biting at your neck, his hands moving over your breasts as his cock pressed against your ass.

Hours later

Laying on your stomach, Pero beneath you, you traced his scar with your fingertip. He looked as good as you imagined naked; he was delicious, and you allowed yourself to feast.

He had a map of scars from his legs up to his face, he was beautifully shaped, from his hands to his cock, to his broad shoulders and bone structure. If you could only have one man in your bed from here on out, you’d choose him.

Pero felt calmer than he had ever been, relaxed after the come down from your second round some time ago. The first was hot, rough, and fast, like wolves in heat under the full moon. The second time was less rushed and even more enjoyable.

You traveled the length of the scar, then met his gaze. "What’s this one from?”

“A time I was left for dead. The bastards tried to take my boots. I took their lives.”

You grinned, imagining him out in the field, and all his adventures.

A comfortable silence fell between you for a while, until Pero broke it.

“- quite the game we played cariño.”

“Wasn’t it,” you lay on his chest, planting a kiss on his chin, then on his lips, “but, who says it’s over?”

“Meaning?”

“I haven’t seen your sword skills yet, we must duel.”

He chuckled, shaking you both slightly as it rumbled through his chest, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, and…” you kiss him again, “there’s a whole list of fun games we could play.”

He quirked a curious brow.

“Well,” you nibbled his ear before telling him what was on your mind.

“Dios mio - “ he said with wide eyes.

“You know you like it,” you grinned, then kept going.

“I do,” he confirmed, caressing the back of your neck as the games you whispered got filthier and filthier.

God, you were speaking his language, and he wasn’t sure if you were real - well if he hadn’t just fucked you twice, which was more than worth the wait, he'd think this was magic, witches work, but you, and this, were all real.

You continued, spilling your dirty thoughts in his ear while now stroking his length with your hand.

Fuck, Pero thought, he’d keep you forever, even longer after that. You would never know another man because you were his.

Pero took hold of you, pulling you into an earth-shattering kiss before holding you against him.

“Good thing for you, I'm not going anywhere. You're mine now.”

You smiled against his chest, “I think I might not object to that.”

“Woman,” he groaned with a slight laugh,

“For you,” you looked up at him and weaved your fingers through his, “I'll make an exception.”

“Now that we’ve come to an understanding, I want food,” he sat up, pulling you with him, “then we fuck again.”

“I like the way you think.” You straddled his hips, teasing him a little before getting off. “Come on my ravenous beast, I made stew last night, and I must say, it's damn good.”

You slipped on the tunic and then made your way out of the room.

Pero slipped on his pants and followed, “as glad as I am to eat, I’m more excited about dessert.”

As you busied yourself gathering bowls, Pero watched from the doorway. As good as it felt to have you, as happy as it made him to see your reaction to the blade, he couldn't shake his sense of worry. When he said you were his, you replied with a maybe, well, not exactly, you said,

“I think I might not object to that.”

Might not

That didn’t sit right.

He was all in, dead serious about it. If you’d have him, there was no one after you. But if you were unsure -

Pero called your name, prompting you to glance over your shoulder at him with that heart-stopping smile of yours.

“Yes?”

His doubts felt stupid, with the way you’re looking at him now, the light in your eyes, that smile. Still, he needed to hear it, he needed to hear it from your lips.

Pero came over to you, you could tell his mood had shifted. With concern, you turned to him and took one of his hands in yours.

“What's wrong?”

“I mean it,” he said your name as he cupped your cheek with one hand, his eyes big, brown, and vulnerable as he stared into yours, “You’re mine.”

Your eyes softened on him even more, “lo sé.”

“Say it,” he demanded.

You slipped your other hand around his back, pulling him closer, “I’m yours, Pero.” you leaned in, brushing the tip of your nose to his, then nibbling his bottom lips. “and you are mines.”

The grunt that left him at your words was primal, like a wolf claiming his mate, and before you could say anything else his lips were on yours. That was all he needed, this was home now, you were his home, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“What about dinner?” you giggled as he kissed the length of your neck and bunched the tunic over your hips.

“That can wait, I need you, now,” he growled, walking you backward to the table.

“Wow, I thought food was your first love,” you teased as you took his hardening length into your hands,

“It is, but now it has competition with you, mi amor.”

You smiled as he moved between your legs, “say it again.”

“Mi amor.” he threw the tunic across the room and quickly covered your breasts with his mouth,

You ran your fingers through his chocolate waves with one hand, guiding his cock inside of you with the other. You moaned together as he filled you,

“I love you too Pero,” you purred.

You closed your eyes, pleasure pulsing through your bodies as you moved your hips together. Thanking the stars and sky above for their gift to you; the very thing you didn't know you wanted in the form of a grumpy mercenary who stole your heart and set your soul on fire.

No tags

More Pedro characters | More Pero

This was a special occasion, so I cross posted. Usually I just put previews on tumblr, all my other work goes to A03. You will need an account to view my archive. Lots of my older stuff 2019 - 2022, for now, is still on my master list here too.

Follow: (fic updates) @artemiseamoon-updates

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#Pero Tovar #pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories #Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)#pero tovar fanfiction #Pero Tovar x f reader #Pero tovar x curvy f reader #blacksmith Pero Tovar #by artemiseamoon #Arte Moodboards #fic: what the heart wants #blacksmith au #blacksmith f reader

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thedeathlysallows · 5 months

Text

Santa Baby

Pairing: Loki x F!reader

Summary: Think of all the fun I've missed/ Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed/ I really do believe in you/ Let's see if you believe in me.

Warnings: Smut. Degradation, dirty talk, loss of virginity (reader's), dom!Loki, oral sex (f!receiving), breeding kink, unprotected sex, ever so slight Jotun!Loki. Loki hasn't had his redemption arc yet

Okay, so, I really have no excuses for this one. It's borderline crackfic but I did my best lol

"Nicholas!"

"Odin!"

You stand shoulder to shoulder with your brother as you watch your father embrace the Allfather. For as long as you can remember, this has been your family's Christmas tradition. After your father finishes delivering gifts all across the nine realms on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day is spent on Asgard with the royal family. You aren't sure why it's a tradition- the elves say it's because Odin was the one to gift your father his powers, to create Santa Claus as the worlds know him- but you've learned over the years it's best not to argue about it.

(There was one year you wanted to spend Christmas at home in the North Pole like a normal family... and your mom fainted from the shock. The elves wouldn't talk to you for a month (which wasn't all that disappointing if you were to be honest). So you considered that lesson learned and never brought it up ever again.)

You watch as your mother greets Frigga next, the two of them looking like the epitome of the Mother archetype. Frigga with her regal air and your mother with her kind smile. You can't imagine ever having to step into their roles and you feel relieved you'll never have to. Your brother is set to be the next Santa and his wife will be Mrs. Claus. Odin's throne will go to Thor and his wife we'll be Queen of Asgard.

All you have to be is yourself.

Free to make your own rules.

To forge your own path.

To-

"Hello, little one." Loki smiles at you fondly and steps towards you. His hands are bound in front of him and the chains draped over his body rattle with each movement.

You tilt your head, observing him closely. "Loki. I knew you were on my dad's Naughty list for the whole New York thing, so I guess it makes sense you ended up on Odin's list too."

His smile morphs into a nasty sneer as he bares his teeth at you. A guard yanks on the chain around his neck, pulling him an appropriate distance from you.

"Must we do this today," Frigga whispers to her husband. "It's the last day of Yule. Let Loki have an hour of freedom."

"And what will that hour cost us," Odin counters.

Your father raises his hand. "If I may? The kids have been working on their magic and sugar plum over here has a real talent for it. I'm sure she could keep Loki in line for an hour."

Loki's eyes burn a hole into the side of your skull as he says, "Yes. The Santa baby can watch me."

"For an hour," you add, turning to your dad. You point a finger at the jolly old man. "And only an hour."

Odin strokes his beard thoughtfully, considering every possible outcome of letting Loki free for a bit. Eventually, he bangs his staff against the shimmering golden floor and Loki's chains fall away. Loki, for his part, makes an effort not to appear too eager. He rubs his wrists and rolls his neck before squaring his shoulders and turning to you.

"I'm at your mercy for the next hour, sugar plum."

And the way he says it so seductively has you reaching the realization that maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

You fidget uncomfortably, balling the ends of your long sleeves in your hands. Loki watches your twitchy movements silently. That's how he's always watched you. Ever since that first meeting when you were nothing more than a child coming to terms with her father being the Santa Claus. He's always watched you silently, thoughtfully, like he's waiting for you to decide who you'll be... and maybe, just maybe, if there will be a place for him beside you when you do decide who to be.

"I'm already regretting this," you say out loud to no one really.

No one is paying attention anymore anyway.

No one except Loki who places a hand at the small of your back and gestures in front of you with the other. "Come, we both know you're foaming at the mouth to get to the garden."

You can't help the eyeroll his words induce. "How eloquent."

"Thank you."

"I wasn't complimenting you."

Loki purses his lips, fighting back a grin. "No, you would never do that, would you?"

"Just shut up and follow me."

He pretends to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key, earning an aggravated groan from you.

If you were to be honest, you don't find Loki's presence all that objectionable. Sure, his ego is out of hand, he tried to take over your home planet, he can be a real pain in the ass, sassy, confrontational, a know it all... wait, what was your point again? Oh, right! Loki has many, many, many faults, but he's always been kind to you. Deep down you know his affection for you doesn't truly account for the monstrosities he's committed, but it does make him ten percent less Naughty in your eyes.

"When will you tell Jolly Old Saint Nicholas that I've been the one helping you with your magic, sugar plum."

Okay. Five percent less Naughty.

"Never," you say without looking at him. Instead you fix your eyes on the garden up ahead.

He clicks his tongue. "How absolutely Naughty of you. I approve."

Two percent.

"I don't need your approval. And stop calling me sugar plum!"

Loki stops walking abruptly, forcing you to turn around and meet him face to face. Or face to chest rather. He's taller than you by several inches and his broad figure almost blocks out the steadily rising sun. Hues of pink, orange, and purple burst from behind him in pastel streaks of color. The wind is soft and gentle as it wraps around the two of you, pressing your bodies ever closer. If you could paint you think you would paint him just as he is now, all soft edges and gentle eyes.

He shakes his head. "You don't need it, but you want it. You crave it, don't you, my darling?"

You think you prefer him calling you sugar plum. That feels far less intimate than hearing the words my darling come out of his mouth.

"I don't want anything from you," you say full of false bravado.

"Oh?" Loki pulls you in to his body and tilts your chin up with his thumb and forefinger. "Not even my cock? I think if I were to bend you over this balcony and fuck that tight little cunt of yours, you'd thank me by the end of it. Wouldn't you, sugar plum?"

You swallow the lump in your throat and will away the rising heat in the pit of your stomach. "I said stop calling me that, Loki."

"Then what would you prefer, hmm?" His lips are centimeters from yours, teasing you by brushing against you ever so lightly as he speaks. "You positively lit up when I called you my darling. How does my queen sound? Better yet, how about my whore?"

"Stop."

"Did you make it to the Nice list this year? No sneaking around and kissing boys behind my back?"

You grit your teeth, embarrassment washing over you with the realization that you actually enjoy having him talk to you like this. "Stop. I know what you're trying to do."

"And what would that be?"

"You want me to give up on you like everyone else. There's a past between us whether we like it or not and you want me to just... forget it. Let it go. Everyone else already believes you're a monster and you can't stand that there's one person in the world who still believes you can be good."

Silence stretches out between the two of you like a snake sunbathing on a rock. It's an almost tangible sensation. All you can hear is the air rushing through your lungs as Loki's chest rises and falls at an alarming rate.

"Is this the part where we hug and I thank you for always believing in me? Because... no, I don't think I'll do that," Loki finally says after a few painful seconds.

You huff in frustration, spinning on your heel to go back inside and forget the whole deal. You'll lock yourself in a guest room with some delicious Asgardian mead and that'll be that. This whole sexual tension thing with a man you shouldn't want in the first place will disappear along with the alcohol.

Before you can take a step forward and put you're new Christmas Day plan into motion, Loki grabs you by the arm and pulls you back. His chest presses into your back, a warm and solid wall of muscle.

"Where do you think you're running off to, sugar plum?" He bends down and whispers the words in your ear, his lips ghosting over your skin and leaving goosebumps all over your body.

"Your hour's up."

"I've still got forty five minutes."

"Yeah, well... I'm finished with this."

Loki slips an arm around your waist, grinding his hardened length into your ass. "You're through when I say you're through, and right now I want you down on your knees worshipping."

"But... we're outside..."

The protest dies on your lips as green sparks emanate from Loki's fingertips, circling the two of you before sinking back into his palm.

"There," he says simply. "Problem solved. Now if anyone were to walk by they would simply see us admiring the flowers. Now, on your knees."

You let him push you down on your knees, his long fingers curling in your hair. Through the tight leather of his trousers you can make out the imprint of his cock. You won't be able to take all of him in your mouth. There's just no way. You're willing to try though, you think to yourself as you look up into the familiar green-blue of his eyes.

He helps you undo his pants, picking up the slack when your nervous fingers tremble while untying the laces. He's eerily patient and allows you to take your time. Build your courage as it were. You want this. You know you do. You're just... nervous.

The realization strikes Loki suddenly. "You're a virgin?"

The accusation- however true- doesn't sit right in your chest. "Do you want me to do this or not?"

Loki's eyes shine bright with absolute glee. "You are!"

"Loki-"

The world swirls and warps around you, the oxygen leaving your lungs in a sudden woosh. You suddenly find yourself in your usual guest chambers. Still on your knees. Still out of breath.

"Much better!" Loki sighs happily before making himself comfortable on the large bed. "Actually, one more thing."

A fire roars to life in the hearth and the bright gold decorations littering the room turn a deep shade of emerald.

"Lest you forget who you're with," he explains simply.

"I couldn't if I tried." You look at Loki out of the corner of your eye as he lounges on the bed. His pants are undone, exposing the deep V of his pelvic muscles and a light dusting of hair. He looks at you so intently you feel like you might explode. "What?"

Loki motions for you to come closer. "I want you to come on my face, sugar plum."

You swear your body just gives out as soon as you hear the words. "W-what?"

He growls and sits straight up. "You are going to walk that pretty little arse over here, and then your are going to straddle my face, so I can lick your cunt until you come."

It takes everything in you to do exactly as he says. You aren't completely inexperienced and you aren't a complete idiot either. You know what the fire in your belly and the slickness between your thighs means. You want Loki, wanted him for years. Never in your wildest dreams did you think he actually wanted you too.

It's a Christmas miracle in your opinion.

When you make it to the edge of the bed Loki tuts at you, toying with the hem of your dress. "I meant to comment earlier, but this is the most horrid thing I've ever seen."

Your brow furrows. "Hey! Sprinkle made this for me!"

"Sprinkle." The way Loki says the elf's name almost sounds like a curse.

"You've met him before. Back a few- oof!"

Loki rips the dress to tatters in the blink of an eye. You want to hit him, curse him, something, but he moves too quickly. Instead you make a mental note to apologize to Sprinkle when you get home, and let Loki manipulate your body so that your kneeling over his face. His breath on your core sends a shiver through your body.

"Loki," you whine, gripping at his hair.

"Good girl," he moans out as you tug on the long, dark strands. "Let's see if you taste as sweet as you look."

His tongue laves at your folds, teasing you. It's strange but nice and exhilarating all at once. Your hips buck involuntarily when he finally slips his tongue inside you and he sighs happily against your skin.

"Fuck, yes," Loki groans.

You whimper pathetically.

"I need inside you. Now," he says against your soaked cunt. "I need you, darling."

All you can do is nod. Your bones feel like jelly, but you want more. You want him. You want him inside you. You want him to come inside you. You want it so badly you can almost imagine a future filled with children who have your hair and his eyes.

When he looks up at you there's a split second where you think he sees that future too.

Loki ends the moment quickly though, telling you to get on your back. He positions his cock at your entrance and you have a momentary lapse in confidence. You don't want him to stop, but he's bigger than you could've guessed, and-

"Relax." Loki presses his mouth to yours, nipping at your bottom lip. "You were made to take this cock."

You nod and angle your hips up so his tip slips inside you. Your unused muscles twitch against the intrusion, making Loki hiss out something in Old Norse. One of his hands wraps around your throat while the other pins your hips against the bed. Using this leverage he pushes his entire length inside you, swallowing your screams with his lips. Loki pumps in and out of you slowly, watching your face for signs of discomfort.

"M-more," you sigh. "Harder... more... please..."

His breath hitches. "Are you sure, my darling?"

"Yes!"

"Very well." Loki's hips snap, shoving himself even deeper inside you.

Your hands fly to grip his biceps. His skin is colder. Colder than you've ever felt it. And there's a slight blue tinge.

"Loki, fuck... oh my god..."

His hand not wrapped around your throat slaps across your cheek. "My king. Say it. Say I'm your king."

You manage a tiny nod. "You're... you're my king..."

Loki's grip tightens and his pace quickens. You can feel his thick cock sliding in and out of you, stretching you around him, forcing his way deep inside you.

"L-Loki..." You let out a short whine. "Come inside me. Please. I need it. Please, please..."

He chuckles darkly. "How pathetic. You're begging like a common whore. Is that what you are, darling? Are you my whore?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, my king."

Loki, seemingly satisfied by your answer, lifts your leg over his shoulder and shoves his way deeper inside you. There's a painful burn as you adjust to the new angle and pace, but the look of ecstasy on Loki's face is enough to send you over the edge again. You come on his cock once more, but this time he comes with you, filling you until it leaks out.

You aren't sure when you closed your eyes, but when you open them Loki is looking at you with a strange expression.

"My hour is up," is all he says.

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fanfiction #loki laufesyon x reader #loki layfeyson imagine

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firstdivisiongirl · 4 months

Note

Hiiioo!! Can I have trafalgar law with #13? Fluff and fem reader. Thanks 🎄

Hi and Merry (Early) Christmas. This was a little hard at first. These were two things that didn’t seem to go together, but hopefully I gave you something you will love. Enjoy!

Day 16: Law - Santa is Real, Who Do You Think Brings the Presents?

It was Christmas time, which meant everyone on the Polar Tang (even Law begrudgingly) was decorating. Since you were all busy being a pirate crew, you waited till Christmas Eve to decorate.

You noticed Bepo leaving the port hole open, and whenever someone came over to close it, he told them not to. “Hey Bepo,” you said, approaching him, “we should probably close the port hole. We don’t want a draft to come in or anything.”

“No,” he yelled, blocking you from going up the metal ladder to close it, “we have to let Santa get in! If we don’t leave it open, he’ll skip the submarine.”

“Oh honey, Santa isn’t real.”

“Of course, Santa is real, who do you think brings the presents?” Law, you boyfriend, injected into your conversation, “Bepo, can I borrow Y/N for one minute?”

Bepo nodded and Law led you into his room, which was covered in shiny silver tinsel. You assumed Bepo did it based on the fact that if anyone else went in his room, they’d be dead.

“Bepo doesn’t know about Santa, so we do this. Just go along with it.”

“Why not just tell him?”

“I can’t see him cry. It’s one of my biggest weaknesses. That and your puppy dog eyes.”

You understood his reasoning. Seeing Bepo cry was your biggest weakness as well. A bright idea popped into your head. “Hey Law, you know I love you right? I have a plan. You in, honey?” you asked with puppy dog eyes. He sighed loudly, “I don’t like the sound of this.”

You and Bepo were up all night, the only light coming from the hundreds of Christmas lights and the starlight coming from the porthole door. You convinced him that if you saw Santa, that you’d believe. It was currently 1AM. Bepo was so excited! He was going to meet Santa!!!! Not the fake Santas at the different ports, but the actual Santa.

Suddenly, someone started to climb through the porthole. A pair of old black leather boots and a red velvet suit came down the ladder and into the Polar Tang.

“Ho ho ho,” said the man, jolly as can be, “looks like my biggest fan came to say hello this year. I have a lot of presents for everyone on the ship. Even that grumpy, annoying and beautiful nonbeliever.”

“Oh my god Santa! Look, I told you he was real!”

You giggled, “I can see that Bepo. Looks like you proved me wrong! Now, go get some sleep, Bepo. I need to apologize to Santa.”

You walked up to the white bearded man, as Bepo disappeared into the distance and into his room. You two checked to make sure the coast was clear. “Good job. Looks like your Whitebeard impression really did come in handy for once, Captain.”

The man started to take his beard off, revealing Trafalgar Law, “you owe me big time for this! You’re lucky I love you!”

“I know! Thank you Law. I think we made this the best Christmas for him. I should get some sleep. You have a lot of presents to deliver, Santa.”

“I take it back…you annoy me more than Kid and Luffy combined.”

Please do not copy, modify, translate, repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!

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illusioninfnty · 6 months

Text

day 17 ; thigh riding

↠ santa, "nikamund the red" x reader

fandom: violent night word count: 494 warnings: nsfw 18+, dirty talk, no actual use of the name santa

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

“Have you been naughty or nice this year?”

You stop grinding on his thigh.

“Stop fucking around, Nick.”

You always love sitting on Nick’s lap. He’s a big man, and the size of his thighs exist in proportion to the rest of his massive body. They provide comfort and pleasure as you sit on top of them. But all the Santa shit he tries to pull when you do it really just makes you cringe.

“Oh, come on! You’re literally in the perfect position. Let me have some fun.” Nick throws his hands up in exasperation and you roll your eyes at him.

“That may be fun for you, but certainly not for me,” you say as you continue your movement again. The heat of his thigh rubs so perfectly against your pussy, the only barriers being his thin pants and your underwear. You hit a new angle as you shift your position, and you have to bite your lip to contain your moans.

“Now do your real job and help me.”

Nick wraps his hands around your waist and maneuvers you back and forth against his thigh. The friction increases, and so does the pressure on your clit as he presses up against you.

Your body aches with the feeling of him so close to you. “Fuck, baby, just like that.”

Your eyes close in pleasure and you wrap your hands around his neck, tangling them in the curls at the nape. You kiss his jaw, your lips hitting his full beard in the process. Nick’s strong, calloused hands hold your body in place. His fingers mold into your skin, refusing to let you go.

“Love seeing you fall apart like this. My desperate girl.” His whispers in your ear sends chills down your spine, your senses alright heightened from the contact with him. You whine at his words as they cause heat to stir in your belly.

You’re entirely overwhelmed at this point; you grope blindly at Nick, trying to find the best place to cling onto him as you continue to rock back and forth against his clothed thigh. He spanks you and your breath hitches before letting out a small yelp of surprise.

“Gonna cum for me?”

You nod furiously, unable to trust your voice right now. All of your focus is on Nick’s thighs and your impending orgasm.

You roll your hips onto him faster and faster; desperately chasing the high that you know is approaching. Your body loses all of its rhythm as your clit grinds harder onto his thigh.

The pressure is too much now; you throw your head back and your mouth opens in a silent scream. Your orgasm washes over you intensely, the wetness in your underwear increasing by tenfold.

Your body trembles in the aftermath, all strength leaving as you collapse into Nick’s chest. He lets out a deep chuckle and pets your hair.

“You're definitely on the naughty list for that.”

“Shut up!”

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #violent night #santa claus x reader #david harbour #santa claus

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e-dubbc11 · 4 months

Text

The Perfect Gift

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff, mentions of Billy’s childhood

Word Count: 2K-ish

Summary: Billy opens up a little more to you; he talks a little about Christmas at the group home and what he really wanted when he was a child.

A/N: Just a little thought I had…what would a young Billy Russo want for Christmas? I had hoped to have this out before Christmas but that didn’t happen obviously, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! ♥️🎄

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Watching the snow gently float past the windows of the penthouse, you recalled your conversation with Billy a few nights ago.

After setting up the Christmas tree, the two of you were relaxing on the couch together with just the warm glow of the white tree lights illuminating the room.

Your legs were draped over his lap; he rubbed the fabric of your lounge pants in between his long slender fingers and you were lightly raking your nails against his scalp.

Two mugs of hot chocolate rested on the coffee table, cooling off because they were still too hot to drink. His mouth split into a childlike smile when he noticed you were making it. Billy loved chocolate, probably more than the average person which you thought was so cute.

He trusted you.

He trusted you with his heart and his body. Billy Russo had always been a very guarded man, he never let anyone in and he never let himself get attached to anyone. He had been afraid to but it was different with you.

The saying is “patience is a virtue.” You not only had the ability to wait but you waited calmly and didn’t give up on him when everyone else had. Pushing too hard would never get you anywhere; it was best for you to earn his trust by letting him talk whenever he was ready to.

You gently knocked on that door at times. Sometimes he would answer, other times he didn’t want to and that was ok. This was one of those times where he felt like talking.

“Ya know what I always wanted when I was young?” He had said.

Still scraping your nails against his scalp, you asked him, “What’s that, baby?”

Billy glanced down at his hands then turned to look at you. His endless brown eyes raked over you and he smiled slightly.

“A slingshot.” He said.

“One of the first years I was at the group home, they told us if we wrote a letter to Santa Claus, they would make sure it would get to him in time for Christmas. ‘What’s the ONE thing you really want?’ I remember them saying. Other kids asked for teddy bears, fire engines, or dolls but I really wanted a slingshot. I even remember promising to be really careful with it and not hurt anyone. But I still never got one…I figured either there was no Santa Claus or I didn’t behave enough because I watched every other kid get their teddy bear, fire engine, and dolls that they asked for but never what I wanted.”

Your heart broke for him. The dull ache in your chest persisted as you listened to him talk about that very painful memory. You pictured a very young Billy Russo, excited for Christmas morning and the one gift he wanted more than anything, the one thing he wished so hard for, only to be disappointed.

Regardless of whether or not it was a good idea to get a little boy a slingshot, you had a hard time picturing Billy being nothing but careful with it.

You know he would have treasured it and wouldn’t have done anything to have it taken away from him. But they never gave him that chance. Getting a hat or a baseball glove was nice but it wasn’t the same when everyone else got what they had asked for.

“I know it’s stupid…to hold onto something like that for all these years.” He had said.

With sad eyes and a warm smile, you cupped both of his cheeks and brushed his beard gently with your thumbs.

“It’s not stupid, my love.” You whispered, leaning in and pressing your lips to his.

The hot chocolate was finally cool enough to drink and he never mentioned it again. Billy changed the subject after that; he asked you what was your favorite Christmas gift you had ever received as a child.

A smile stretched across your face when you explained how much you loved snow globes but not your typical, run of the mill snow globes. The ones you love have black snow; they are more Halloween related than Christmas and when you were young, you found one while you were out shopping with your mother.

It had black snow and a haunted house inside. When you flipped the switch, the lights inside the house would flicker on and off.

You wanted it so badly.

She surprised you a couple months later by giving it to you for Christmas. She must have gone back to get it after you saw it in the store.

“One afternoon, I came home from school and the calendar on my desk was wet and my snow globe was gone. I put in on the top shelf of my desk. Well apparently, my younger brother wanted to see it and while trying to get it off of the top shelf, he dropped it and it broke. My mom cleaned it up before I got home and I was out a snow globe…the perfect snow globe in my eyes. I never did find another one.”

“I’m sorry, sweet girl.” He said with a warm smile.

“Ah, it’s ok…he was little. I totally get why he wanted to play with it…it was pretty awesome.” You said, with a little laugh.

“Well, I think we’ve bummed each other out enough today y/n, what about you?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Let’s go to bed, baby.” He said with a wink.

Billy took you by the hand and led you to the bedroom. He slept well that night, no nightmares and he held you extra close. Maybe sharing that memory was therapeutic for him. Whatever it was, you were happy he slept through the night.

And the only reason how you knew he slept through the night is because you did not. His story broke your heart and it occupied your mind all night long but you were going to make sure Billy would get the Christmas gift he’s always wanted.

Christmas Morning

Billy never missed an opportunity to spoil you and Christmas was no exception. The gifts he gave you were nothing short of amazing and he was very excited to give them to you. Dark chocolate from your favorite candy shop, and the sterling silver love knot earrings you had been eyeing at Tiffany and Co.

You thought it was so sweet he remembered; it had been months since you had seen them in the window. He made you breakfast and mimosa’s; it was such a perfect morning.

Then it was time to give Billy his gifts. You gave him a bottle of his favorite bourbon and put together a stocking with his name on it but you still had one more gift to give him.

“Thank you, sweet girl. I’m still not really use to receiving gifts.” Said Billy.

You stood up and walked over to the tree. “I still have one more left for you, handsome.”

Leaning over the back of the couch, you placed the gift in his lap, wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. The bristles of his beard tickled your lips as you felt him smile against your kiss.

“What is this, y/n? You have given me plenty already.” He said.

Billy tore away the wrapping paper. He covered his eyes, then swept his fingers down his cheeks, and let his jaw drop. He couldn’t believe what he was holding in his hands…he finally had his very own slingshot.

“Do you like it, Billy?” You asked, after several moments of silence.

Billy’s dark chocolate eyes shined with unshed tears; he was speechless.

“You didn’t have to do this, baby.” He said with a slight hitch in his voice.

Billy turned his head slightly so he was looking into your eyes, a wide smile stretched across his face and he leaned closer until his lips met yours.

You pulled away slightly and replied, “Yes I did, my love.”

His lips tasted slightly like orange juice and he gazed at you like you had hung the stars in the sky. The excitement in Billy’s eyes were that of that little boy he once was that finally got what he had always wanted.

“I love you…so much.” He whispered.

“I love you too, Billy.” You said.

Billy gave you a sly smile. “I actually have one more gift for you too, sweet girl.”

“What?” You asked.

He stood up, walked over, and reached all the way toward the back of the tree and pulled out one last present.

“Billy…” You started to say.

The package felt a little heavy as you gently ripped open the wrapping paper. You opened the opaque black box and inside was the same exact snow globe your brother had broken; your favorite childhood Christmas present that you thought was gone forever was in your possession once again.

“Oh my god…Billy how did you? Where did you? How?” You asked, stuttering over your words in disbelief.

It was actually in front of you. The same purple and orange castle, the black snow, and the black base. You turned it over to flip the switch and watched as the lights inside flickered on and off.

“It took me a little while but I finally tracked one down. Hopefully, your brother won’t break this one.” He chuckled a little. “It’s the right one though?” Asked Billy.

A tear streaked down your cheek and dripped onto the glass ball in your hands.

“Yes, yes it is my love…but,” You said and hesitated.

“But what, beautiful? Why are you crying?” He asked.

“Well, now I don’t really wanna tell you because you’re gonna think it’s stupid.” You said.

Billy smiled that perfect smile at you.

“Just tell me, baby.” He said.

“Billy, you always get me the most wonderful presents. I just really wanted to ‘win’ Christmas this year. And you had to go and do this.” You said, moving a stray piece of his raven colored hair out of his eyes.

Billy laughed, closed the gap between your bodies and kissed you again.

“Well you know how competitive I am, y/n. And how I like things to be perfect, especially for you.” He said with a wink. “And you did win, my love. I have everything I’ve ever wanted. I have you and now I have a slingshot.”

He swiped away the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. You wanted nothing more than to just hold him for the rest of the day but you knew he wanted to play with his new toy.

“Thank you for my snow globe, Billy. This was the best kind of surprise.” You said.

Billy kept glancing over at his slingshot, aching to test it out.

“You wanna test out your new toy, don’t you.” You said with a warm smile.

He nodded with an evil smirk on his face.

A Christmas Story was playing on tv so you decided to recite a line from the movie.

“Ok, well don’t shoot any animals or birds.” You said with a laugh.

He replied with the second part of that movie quote. “Except the Bumpus’s dogs, right baby?”

You kissed him again and replied. “You really do get me, Mr. Russo…in every way.”

Billy Russo’s childhood was stolen from him. He grew up with nothing, no family and no possessions. Most of his friends from the group home turned to crime when they got older and it very well could have happened to Billy too, but it didn’t.

He had become successful and slowly but surely, he was learning to navigate his own feelings. Billy learned how to love and accept love shown toward him because of how patient you were with him.

Patience really is a virtue and you would try like hell to be as patient as humanly possible for the man you love because he really was worth it…and so much more.

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#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n

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