#wrapping up her christmas gift
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Wrapping Up Her Christmas Gift 1/2
My Rumbelle Secret Santa gift for @99goosebumps!
The prompt was: "Rumbelle pegging, both in lingerie"
This is technically a continuation of my fic "Begging on His Bended Knees." You don't need to read that fic to understand this one.
Read on AO3
Chapter two is here
“You like soft things, don’t you, Theo?”
Belle French slid the fabric over her submissive’s outstretched palm. In the revamped office building that housed Belle’s professional dungeon, Theo Gold knelt in front of her wingback chair. He was blindfolded and stripped to the waist. She rubbed the dark green silk across his bare wrist.
“Yes, Mistress Belle.” His voice had that dazed, breathy quality that came over him whenever he really got into a scene. “I like things that are soft.”
“Soft and smooth,” she sing-songed. “Silky and satiny.”
Using the fabric, she stroked up his arm and down his naked back. Theo often needed time at the beginning of their sessions to warm up to being touched. He didn’t get a lot of it in his normal life.
“You like fine things,” she told him. “You like quality, and beauty.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he whispered.
“Do you want to look beautiful, Theo?”
Even through the blindfold, she could see his eyebrows furrow. He swallowed hard before he answered.
“Yes, Mistress. I want to be beautiful for you.”
Belle tutted. With one finger, she lifted his chin. “No, no, my Theo. This isn’t something we’re doing for me. We’re doing it for you. I’m going to ask again, and I want you to answer correctly this time: Do you want to look beautiful?”
He clenched his jaw. His hands balled into fists. When the words came, they seemed to have been dragged out from the depths of his heart.
“Yes, Mistress. I want to be beautiful for me.”
“Good.” She cradled his face in her hands, removed the blindfold so he could see her sincerity. “Good boy, Theo.”
With a shaking breath, he accepted her praise. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. Belle stroked his hair and murmured how good he was, how proud she was of him.
She was proud of him. It had been a long road for the fearsome Mr. Gold to admit he needed all the things society told him not to want. A powerful man wasn’t supposed to yearn for weakness. He wasn’t supposed to let himself be vulnerable, to open himself up for pain and ridicule. A real man wasn’t supposed to take joy in softness and beauty. He wasn’t supposed to crave such things, especially not for himself. Theo did. He wanted the frivolous and the decorative, the lovely and the weak. He wanted to be those things.
Belle never tired of giving him ways to be himself.
When he was ready, she set him on his knees again and stood up. With the blindfold off, Theo had full freedom to look at her. His dark brown eyes shone as he drank her in. He looked from her high-heeled, thigh-high, red vinyl boots, to her flared red skirt lined with white fake fur, to her red corset, red opera gloves, and jaunty Santa hat.
It was Christmas Eve, and neither of them had anywhere they’d rather be.
Belle held up the green silk she’d been rubbing him with, pinching it between her thumbs and forefingers so he could see the shape of the panties.
“Can you put these on by yourself? Or do you want me to help you?”
Theo licked his lips. “I--I can do it,” he said softly. “Though I may need your help with the corset.”
“Of course.” Belle put the panties in his open hands and sat back down in her chair. It was the perfect place to watch him. “Anything for my sweet Theo.”
****
Gold gripped the material, crushing it with the force of his need. He was already hard, though just being around Mistress Belle was enough to do that to him. All of his scenes with her were good, but this was a special night. This was the culmination of everything they had done so far, the first step of a new journey.
His cane was on the floor beside him. Mistress was always so good about keeping track of it. He picked it up and used it to get to his feet. He was shirtless, but had kept his shoes on. Whenever possible, he kept his feet covered, so Mistress wouldn’t be troubled by the scars on his bad ankle.
He sat on the chaise lounge across the room from Mistress’ chair. As he removed his shoes and socks, he kept himself from stealing glances at her. He had to believe what she told him, instead of looking for lies. She wanted him to do this, he told himself. It was safe. She wasn’t going to mock and deride him like any normal person would. She had a plan. He had to trust her.
Trust did not come easily to Gold. Mistress Belle had earned it over months of sessions. Over and over, she had proved her professionalism, her compassion, and her genuine desire to do what was good for him. This would be good for him. She would take care of him, as no one in his life ever had.
It was easier to take off his boxers than it had been to take off his socks. There was nothing extraordinary about his cock, either towards the good or the bad. Mistress was more than familiar with male anatomy, including his. It didn’t bother her to see his erection; she always said she took it as a compliment. Gold had nothing to be embarrassed about.
Carefully balancing from one leg to the other, he slid his panties over his legs and up to his hips. His first sensation was of tightness. A yielding pressure against his skin, like someone cupping his groin and his buttocks at the same time.
God. It almost felt like an embrace.
His fingers twitched as he rubbed his hand over his hipbone. The change from warm skin to cool silk and back to skin was intoxicating. The panties had a full back, which covered his arse, but there was an exposed V over the center of his backside that was fronted with lace. Reaching back, Gold touched that area. He savored the texture. He had always liked touching lace on a woman. It was a thrill to feel it on himself. Next time, he would wear something that was all lace.
For now, the silk was smooth and luxurious, completely without flaw. It was enough to have it under his hands, let alone to wear it on his body. Slowly, he dragged his palm over his groin--until Mistress cleared her throat and he snatched his hand away.
“I know you’re excited,” she said patiently. “I’m excited too. But you have to follow the rules, even at Christmastime. What is the rule, Theo?”
“I mustn’t touch my cock until you say, Mistress.” The words flew out of him like a lesson learned by rote, a lesson he had long ago memorized and imprinted on his heart.
“Correct,” she said, with a touch of imperiousness. The tone suited her. Mistress Belle deserved to be treated like a great lady.
“I am sorry, Mistress,” Gold said sincerely. “I didn’t mean to disobey you. I wasn’t trying to touch myself.” He gulped. “Please don’t say I can’t put on the rest of my clothes.”
It was an unlikely punishment for an infraction so minor, but there was something thrilling about begging his Mistress for mercy. It felt cathartic--perhaps because he knew that she would always do what was best for him. Either she would grant him mercy, or the punishment she gave him would be fair and restorative. Mistress Belle was a benevolent goddess, not a vindictive one.
She laughed indulgently at his plea. “Don’t be silly, sweet Theo. I’m not going to deny you this experience. Not unless you start acting very naughty.”
“I won’t,” he promised. More than anything in the world, he wanted to be good for his Mistress.
“I know,” she smiled. Her blue eyes twinkled. Her lips were as red as her holiday costume. “Why don’t you put on your garter belt next?”
Gold looked down at the coffee table, where all his paraphernalia was laid out. The garter belt was the same shiny forest green as the rest of the set. Since it was mostly straps, it lacked the expanse of smoothness that the panties provided. It wasn’t Gold’s favorite part of the ensemble, but he would need to wear it if he was going to keep his stockings up.
He placed the garter belt across his waist, then reached both hands behind him to fasten it. The hooks were damnably small and hard to feel out. How was anyone supposed to pull this thing together when they couldn’t look at it?
“Do you need help, Theo?” Mistress asked after a moment. From the amusement in her voice, she knew very well that he was out of his depth. The question was a reminder of the core principle of their dynamic: She would give him what he wanted, as long as he asked her for it.
He lowered his arms and looked at the floor when he spoke to her.
“Mistress, will you please help me?”
Only then did she stand, with a bright smile on her face. “Why, Theo! How clever of you to ask! I would be more than happy to help you dress.”
He kept his eyes lowered as she came behind him and put her hands on his waist. She took the garter belt and moved it around so the fastenings were in front of him. Reaching around him, her gloved hands lined the hooks into the loops so the belt was a complete circle around his abdomen. Then she pulled it around him again so the clasp was on his back where it belonged.
“That’s how you can do it if you’re ever alone,” she said as she smoothed the straps. “When I’m with you, of course you should always ask for help.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
There was the slightest constriction around his stomach when he breathed. He liked it. It was like having Mistress’ arms around him every moment, a constant reminder of who he was and why he was doing this.
“Sit down now,” she ordered. Gold instantly obeyed. “Do you know how to roll on a pair of stockings?”
It felt good to sit. How did she know? He had been standing for too long, putting all his weight on one leg. Mistress took such good care of him.
“I think I do,” he answered her question. “Will you correct me, if I do it wrong?”
“I will.” She towered over him in her platform boots. Her arms crossed over her chest, which pushed up the pale globes of her breasts.
Gold swallowed and looked down again. He couldn’t get distracted by her beauty, not now. Not when she had given him a task to complete.
He picked up one of the stockings. They were also green, dark enough to cover up anything unsightly. He gathered the fabric up into a ring and placed one foot into the hole. Slowly, careful not to snag on anything, he lifted his leg to pull the stocking up.
Mistress Belle chuckled. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
Gold stopped what he was doing to look up at her. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” she shook her head. “It’s from a movie. Don’t worry about it. You’re doing very well, Theo.”
He did the same thing with the other stocking, then stood up to fasten the tops to the straps that hung down from the garter belt. With his cane in one hand, he presented himself.
“Did I do well, Mistress?”
She looked him up and down. “You’re not straight.”
Despite himself, Gold let out a laugh. “You know, I have been re-considering that lately.”
She snorted, and waved her hand as if to swat him. “That’s not what I mean, silly Theo. I’m looking at your stockings.”
A bright red line ran up the back of Gold’s stockings. Turning his head, he could see how the line on his bad leg was decidedly slanted.
“May I touch you, Theo?” Belle asked softly. “May I help make you beautiful?”
Gripping his cane, Gold lifted his bad leg up for her ministrations. “Please,” he whispered. “Please help me, Mistress.”
He had never known her not to be gentle, even when doling out punishments, but she seemed especially careful when she put her hands near his leg. She straightened the line of his stocking and smoothed out the material. Her touch lingered on his ankle, warm and soothing. Could she feel the raised scars through the fabric? Did she want to see them? Was it out of morbid fascination or something more sympathetic? Could Mistress treasure the most grotesque part of his body in the same way she reveled in the perversions of his mind?
Would he ever be brave enough to find out?
She stood up. Neither of them spoke. Mistress Belle picked the corset up off the table and handed it to him. Gold was able to fasten the metal loops over the metal pegs in the front, but it was up to her to finish the lacing. It was an underbust corset, the top edge a flat line just under his nipples. With every pull of the laces, there was a feeling of tightness, but it wasn’t constricting. Gold felt contained in the corset. He felt safe. He was as protected in lingerie as he was in his three-piece suits.
“Is that tight enough?” Mistress asked. “Is it too tight? Take a deep breath for me, Theo.”
He obeyed. His chest filled the corset. Somehow, it felt like the deepest breath he had ever taken.
“You look so lovely,” she said. “Truly, you do, my Theo.”
Gold’s cheeks burned. He ducked his head. “Thank you, Mistress.”
The last part of his outfit was a pair of elbow-length silk gloves. He had been worried about them. Much of his body could fit in women’s sizes, but his hands were indisputably male. Fortunately, there was a whole subculture of men who wore opera gloves with surprising regularity. Gold didn’t like to think of what he was doing as drag, but he was more than happy to buy from a drag queen supplier.
The gloves were dark and elegant. His hands glided over his clothes, over his skin. The gloves made everything he touched feel smooth and sleek and lovely. They made him feel lovely, at least to the touch. And Mistress said he was lovely to look at.
He let out a shuddering sigh, his only way of voicing the yearning that consumed him. His eyes fluttered closed as he touched his own body. It was broken and sagging and old, but somehow it was lovely, lovely, lovely.
Tears leaked from his closed eyes as he caressed himself. Gold embraced the feeling. The same awe and wonder he normally only expressed for his mistress, now he felt it for himself. He was beautiful, like she said. He loved beauty. He could love himself.
He never thought he could feel this way. For years, he had denied himself even the desire to love himself. Why want something when it would never happen?
It was happening now. Mistress Belle had made it happen. She allowed him to want again, and she had given him what he wanted.
When he opened his eyes, she was looking at him. Her expression was soft and misty.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
She reached out to take his hand. A red glove enveloped green, both of them satiny and beautiful. Mistress Belle came closer still, to kiss a tear away from his cheek.
“Thank you for letting me see your joy, Theo.”
He let out a breath, a hollow laugh. “Thank you for giving it to me.”
Smiling, Mistress shook her head. She picked a final item up off the coffee table. It was a length of green ribbon, with a festive bow at the midpoint. Coming behind him, she tied it loosely around his neck, like a collar. Then she turned him around to face her. She fingered the bow that nestled neatly in the hollow of his throat, underneath his Adam’s apple.
“You’re my present,” she said softly. It was almost like she was talking to herself. “I don’t need anything else.”
If this was happening outside a scene, Gold would ask her what she meant. If she wasn’t his mistress but just Belle, he would offer to give her anything. He had enough money to buy her whatever she could ask for and her happiness would be worth the price. This woman had saved him. She had soothed the ache in his heart. It destroyed him to think she might suffer an ache as well. What was her true desire? What did she want? He would do anything to help her, but in their present roles, ‘anything’ had a very narrow definition.
Somehow, she seemed to understand. Meaning passed between them without words. So much between Belle French and Theodore Gold could not be said. It could only be felt. Both of them knew that. Both of them tried to live with it.
Mistress hadn’t taken her hands away from his throat. A red-gloved fingertip brushed his long hair back behind his ear, revealing more of his face. She traced over his forehead, his cheek, his jaw. Her touch trailed down the nape of his neck and over his bare shoulders. She grazed down his arm, to the tips of his own gloved fingers, and then back up to his chest. She tweaked his nipples, felt the new curve the corset brought to his waist.
Lower and lower, inch by inch, she claimed him with her touch. She fit her finger under the band of his garter belt, stretched out the elastic, then let it snap back on his hip. The pain was sharp and stinging and perfect. She did the same with the upper edge of his panties, though that snap was less intense. Both of her hands slid over the silk that covered his backside. She squeezed his arse like he was a fresh mango.
“Oh look at that.” She smiled broadly when she got to the front of his panties. “Look who’s so hard for me!”
She squeezed the silk over his cock and Gold bit down on his tongue.
“Mistress,” he groaned. “Please!”
‘Please’ what, he wasn’t sure, but he trusted Mistress to take care of him. All he had to do was tell her what was happening and allow her to make a decision. If she wanted him to come in his panties, then she knew it would happen if she kept touching him. If she wanted him to last longer, she would have to ease off on the stimulation. If she wanted to tease him and keep him on the verge of orgasm for minutes or hours, then he would have to submit to her will, no matter how agonizing it might be.
In her mercy, Mistress released her grip on his cock. She gave it a few loving pats as a promise of more attention soon. Then her hands slid down his thighs, over the straps of his garters and down to his stockings.
“Are you ready for me to touch your feet yet, Theo?”
Gold breathed in sharply, something between a gasp and a hiss. His heart was already racing, but now an edge of terror cut into the excitement. He froze. He couldn’t speak. Even if he could, he didn’t know what he wanted to say.
“Alright,” Mistress nodded. She took his silence as a rejection of her proposal, but she knew very well that it wasn’t a rejection of her. She kept her hands on him, kept touching his shoulders and torso. She wanted to make sure he knew that nothing had changed between them.
She bent his head down so she could kiss him between the eyebrows. “We’ll never do anything you don’t want, Theo. Never.”
He swallowed. The ribbon-collar was tight at his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“Shh,” she petted his hair. “Nothing to be sorry for, little one. Not a single thing.”
He bowed his head. He accepted her touch, her sweet words. Mistress wasn’t angry at him, he knew that. The trouble was keeping from being angry at himself. He wanted to give her every part of his body. Hell, he wanted to give her his heart, mind, and soul. It wasn’t his intention to keep any part of himself away from her.
Yet the thought of his beautiful mistress seeing the ugliest, weakest, most awful parts of him--it was enough to set him on a panic attack. He knew she would be kind and compassionate about his injury, but he also knew that nothing would be the same once she saw it. He couldn’t bear the thought of things changing, of Mistress losing any regard she might have for him.
Nor could he bear the thought of his own reaction. Gold knew himself, he knew his own thin skin. If her expression flickered for a microsecond, it would all be over. He would blow it out of proportion, let it be confirmation that every compliment she had ever paid him was a lie, that every loving gesture had been nothing more than doing what he paid her to.
It would be so easy to believe she would never care for him--could never care for him--that she was just as twisted and self-serving as everyone else he had ever trusted. Because he was a monster, of course, so everyone who treated him with any human sympathy must be a liar who wanted to destroy him. Even at his best, he knew he was a difficult man to love. It would be so easy for Gold to convince himself that he was better off as he had been before he met her: alone and unfeeling, the enemy of love.
He had come too far for that. He couldn’t allow himself to become that person again. More than his physical scars, that inner ugliness was what he wanted to keep Mistress Belle from ever touching. He had to protect her from it. He had to protect himself from his own worst impulses.
“Are you ready for the next step, my Theo?”
She was still holding his hand. He had lost track of Mistress at some point, but she made him focus on her now. She nodded toward the door at the back of her room. That was a more private area than the parlor-like front room they were in now. That was where their scenes became more intense. That was where Gold had spent the happiest moments of his life.
He swallowed. He drew himself up and squared his shoulders. He couldn’t give Mistress every part of himself, not yet, but he damn well could give her the best of him. She deserved so much more, but he could only offer what he had.
“Yes, Mistress,” he told her. “I’m ready.”
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I’m feral for subby Bucky. I need him on the floor crying and begging for my pussy, a babbling bitch of a mess.
Okay love youuu💜
Maybe I've got too soft recently but I'm so into the thought of being sweet and gentle and encouraging with subby Bucky?
I can't stop thinking about how pretty he could look on his knees in dim bedroom lighting and the way it would accentuate those muscular thighs. He's naked, watching you, stroking his cock a little more frantically than you'd usually allow.
"Please." He sounds more composed than he looks and he's not afraid to keep eye contact with you while he begs.
"I need to feel you." He watches as you trail your finger gently across your own glistening sex, spreading your legs nice and wide so he's got a perfect view from the floor.
You don't respond. There's no sense in breaking a silence that heavy. Not when you know his mouth is watering, imagining the way you'll feel when you engulf his cock and then the way you'll taste while he licks his cum out of your freshly fucked pussy.
"I need you." He whispers, his mouth running faster than his brain. His dick throbs in his hand, precum dribbling down his shaft, over his fingers, making each stroke a little more slick.
"Then have me, sweetheart. I'm all yours." He didn't expect the softness in your voice or the way you tenderly hold his chin to pull him in for a kiss.
He's slipping just a little faster than he wants to but it feels lovely. He's safe, he's loved, he's free to explore interests he's never given much time to and it's all starting to feel quite comfortable and natural to him.
"I love you, I hope you know that." You whisper, kissing his forehead while you line his tip up to your entrance.
"Oh God." He whimpers, his head falling onto your shoulder because he can't look at you now. Not as he's pressing into you and you're being so gentle with him. It'll be overwhelming and he simply can't have that.
"I love how you make me feel. I love getting to see you like this." You coo softly, stroking the back of his head, enjoying his hot, erratic breathing on your neck.
Inch by inch, he slides inside you. It's slow and reverent and considerate and downright perfect.
"You don't need to last, sweetheart. Let me take care of you for now and we can go a little bit longer later." Your offer isn't one he can turn down. He's been too aroused for too long and taking the edge off is exactly what he needs so he can focus on your pleasure.
His thrusts from then on are much faster, his tip rubbing your sweet spot delightfully and while it's not enough to get you off, it leaves you arching yourself closer to him.
It doesn't take long for him to become a babbling mess, panting and moaning against your neck, begging to be allowed to cum inside you.
"I'm so proud of you." You remind him, holding him as close as you can. There is no closer than this; not with him inside you but it still feels important to be unreserved in how much you want him. "I'm so proud of you. It's okay sweetheart, I've got you. You're okay, I've got you."
You feel his hips stutter, his shaft pulsing and throbbing as he shoots his first load into you, buried as deep inside you as he can manage. There are a few tender moments where you just hold him, kissing his broad shoulders while he catches his breath, letting him get comfortable on your chest.
#asks answered <3#becca writes spice#anon#sub!bucky#subby!bucky#needy!bucky#I have way too many Christmas presents still to get#and I have a tonne to wrap tonight to take to work this week#so many cards to write#I love giving gifts#and I'm always worried it's weird?#I was in a work meeting recently and someone messaged into the teams chat that they were jealous of my Stanely cup#I have the baby pink one and it comes everywhere with me#so I got her one that matches her vibe#she wears nothing but black and her nails are always a black French tip#so I got her the charcoal grey one#but I don't want it to be weird?#like I'm going to have to message her PA and try to find a way to line our schedules up so I can give it to her#it always makes me really nervous when I get a gift for someone that I know they're not expecting
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Last night I tried to tell my mom that she was racist and Islamophobic.
She replied with I’m not racist! They really do specifically go to school into this one university so that they learn to make bombs. (she believes this because of FUCKING HOMELAND SECURITY I HATE AMERICAN TV SO MUCH)
So I told her how would she feel if someone called me a gold digger because I was a Filipino and she started to protest strongly then I immediately said you’re doing the same fucking thing. You’re judging an entire group of people based on terrorists. Just because there are terrorists doesn’t mean every Muslim or middle eastern person is a terrorist.
Just when I thought she was understanding it she replied with “but they really do that though...”
To every Muslim I’m sorry about my family and everyone like them. They really do not have the ability to comprehend some things.
#honestly im so surprised that i didn't curse in that entire conversation#we were talking about this while wrapping christmas gifts for her christmas party#when i arrive in simala im going to take her homeland security dvds#and set it on fire#or cut it up to tiny pieces and turn it into a weapon#or maybe i can use it as a throwing knife and just destroy it by playing dvd darts with a tree
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honestly fuck my family sometimes
#i love them but seriously they can be so fucking lazy and thoughtless.#how hard is it to get your own fucking mother a gift on christmas when she made you thanksgiving dinner and wrapped all YOUR gifts.#the only two gifts she has in her pile right now are from me and i won’t lie i’m pretty disgusted with my siblings rn#i’m sure my dad has something to give her but my brother and sister are just. i’m livid at them.#my sister isn’t capable of making an effort and my brother doesn’t even know what the word effort means.#when your mother has done as much for you as ours has you should get her a goddamn gift she’ll appreciate.#and i told her today i want to go shopping again to get her a couple other things she asked for but she says she doesn’t want anything#but what am i supposed to do when they’ve gotten her NOTHING#i’m taking my brother to the store later to buy her a large bag of her favorite licorice but she already knows we’re doing that#because she’s the one who told me to take him to the store to get her a large bag of her favorite licorice for a gift.#and that’s… just sad. he should be capable of thinking up and buying his own goddamn gift.#hell I’VE been keeping a list of gift ideas for my mom since june#i ALWAYS know what to get her by december#but not my siblings because they can’t be assed!#just… they can be such disappointments sometimes. they really can.
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Dirk had only been working in the intelligence career a couple of days before I screwed up a chance card and got him fired. Being a fortune sim he was very upset about this, but inviting Lilith over to play some videogames and finally give her the present he'd bought cheered him up a lot.
#my mother is infamous for being unable to keep plants alive#one time when she was twelve she accidentally gifted her grandma a dead begonia for christmas#because she'd wrapped it up in a box two weeks prior#and forgot it needed light and water#now i'm not saying i could see dirk doing something similar#but#at least lilith would see the funny side of it#ts2#the sims 2#simblr#emmiesims pleasantview#pleasantview#dirk dreamer#lilith pleasant#the dreamers
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it truly is wild that some (re: shitty) fathers will see mothers (aka: the aLLEGED LOVE OF THEIR LIFE) struggle, and then the kid (of any age) jumps in to help the mom, and the father's response is just a "I raised my kid so well". like?? sir???? you failed as a husband, watching your own wife struggle with no comment or intention to giving her any help
it's like the year-round version of "father doesn't fill the mother's Christmas stocking". like, sir, i may have never believed in Santa, but i believed in you to do SOMETHING, jfc, someone give me one of those good dads to be a good husband to my mom please
#like my mom literally groaned in effort and he just glanced over and then kept playing solitaire#she wasnt doing anything ''big'' she was shredding papers which involved being bent halfway down and rising up a lot. she was standing#and my disabled ass just looked at him incredulously and went to go get her a chair#''oh but thats nothing. i thought you meant like she was bringing in something heavy like a christmas tree--''#nO. SHUT UP. NO SPOUSE SHOULD SEE THEIR PARTNER STRUGGLE AND NOT *WANT* TO HELP MAKE THE TASK EASIER#my mama even said ''you saved me. i was about to give up for the day lol''#likE??? SIR??? we were equal distance away from the shredding cmon#but yeah he tried to take credit for me doing it by going ''thats my kid'' like?? sir go away#i became attentive in spite of your fuck-ups; its parentification. not because of you intentionally trying to raise me and the traits i#have?? shut upppp go awayyy he never changes i dont see what my mom sees in him jfc he doesnt do stockings or presents or get her a cHAIR#one of my earliest memories is being six or younger and my dad taking me to pick gifts for mom and then having me wrap them jfc#like siiiiiiirrrrr stoppp be attentive to your wife like cmon she is the only one who loves you in this household still. step the fuck up
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It’s all fun and games doing your Christmas shopping really early until you realize you know have to wait like three months to give people gifts you’re really excited to give them
#I always start doing Christmas shopping in like. June#because I have so many ppl to shop for it’s easier on my budgeting#cuz I have my five siblings mom and her husband#+ friends#and around October is when I kiiiinda start to get things wrapped up#so then all the presents just sit in my room and I wanna GIVE THEM TO PEOPLE#I love giving ppl gifts I love it so much I love getting them things I know they’ll like#but now I have to WAIT fuuuuuuck#idk I just got one of my friends who REALLY likes nana a cute little nana standee that I know she’s gonna love#and yeah it’s just gonna sit in my room until Christmas now taunting me#like I wanna give it to her NOW this is STUPID#idk I have three more friends to get things for and two more siblings and then I’m done for the year#and fjdjdkdjdkdkdks I’m gonna start eating nails I want to wrap them and give them to everyone IMMEDIATELY#kaz rambles
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Unexpected Visitor
Pairing: Spencer Reid x G!n Reader
WC: 788
A/N: A lil Spencer Xmas Blurb while I figure my shit out. Also! I'm imagining older seasons Spencer for this one.
"Hi! I'm, uh, so sorry to bug you but, um, do you know where Spe--Doctor Reid's desk is? Or, really, where D-Doctor Reid is?" .
Derek Morgan had to get his shit together because his jaw almost dropped when you walked in. What was some hot piece of ass doing, dressed like that, looking for Boy Genius.
He jumped up from his chair and strolled over to where you had stopped Garcia, who was just as flabbergasted as he was. "Reid is currently in a meeting sweetheart--may I ask what you, uh, want with him?"
You raised your eyebrows at the 'sweetheart', but smiled anyways. "He was supposed to be home about an hour ago and he wasn't answering his phone, so instead of panicking, because I know what you do for work, I wanted to come in and check before I lost my shit."
"Home?" Garcia squeaked out, still baffafled by how gorgeous you looked. It was like you were sent straight from heaven, a literal vision.
You nodded and tilted your head, slightly confused. "Y-Yeah...I'm sorry why is that---"
"We just didn't know Reid was living with anyone, let alone seeing someone."
"Ah." You nodded. "He's private like that, isn't he." Your smile warmed the two of them, and you shifted the coat from one arm to the other.
"y/n?"
You turned your head towards the back of the bullpen, and Spencer was walking out of Hatch's office. "What are you doing here?"
"Being introduced to your friends and coworkers since you haven't."
Spencer bit the inside of his cheeks and walked over to you both, placing his hand on the small of your back. You felt how tense he was.
"I'm here because our reservation is in twenty minutes and you said you'd be home over an hour ago." You looked at Spencer, whose eyes went a little wide.
"Shit. I-I didn't realize what time it was---"
"I have your suit in the car, and this is why I made the reservation for eight pm, instead of Seven."
"And this is why I love you." Spencer kissed your head and rushed over to his desk, scrambling to grab all of his papers and his bag and his coat and his scarf and his--
"Hi Y/n." Spencer looked up at the mention of your name, pausing in his frantic nature.
"Hi Aaron." You gave him a quick hug, but a bright smile. "How are you?"
"Well." He laughed a little. "I'd be better if we didn't have to work the day before Christmas Eve since I still need to wrap all of Jack's presents still."
"Oh how is Jack!"
"He's doing well. finally starting to enjoy reading, no thanks to you."
You laughed at his joke, all the while Derek and Garcia just shared an incredulous look. How the hell did you know Hotch? Jack?!? Why does Jack's reading habits connect to you--
"Ready sweetheart?" Spencer appeared at your side and you nodded. "It was lovely to see you Aaron. I'll stop by some time tomorrow to drop off Jack's gifts as well as yours. I got it when Spence I and went to Paris last month. I think you'll enjoy it!"
"That's why you weren't here for two weeks?" Penelope's jaw was on the floor. "I didn't take you to be a Parisian man Doctor Reid."
"W-Well, um--"
"It was for my birthday. My choice. I love art and museums so it made sense. Well, it was lovely to meet you all but we have a reservation to get to." You gave them all a quick smile before taking Spencer's hand and walking towards the elevator, your shoes clicking on the floor with every step you took.
"How long have the two of them been together?" Morgan turned to Hotch after you both had gotten in the elevator.
"I think today is their two year anniversary."
"TWO YEARS." Garcia clutched her hypothetical pearls. "How have I not known? How have WE not known?"
"He's private, and...well. You know Y/n."
"No we clearly do not know Hotch."
Hotch gave them a little smirk and a shrug. "Merry Christmas guys. I'll see you on the twenty-seventh."
As Hotch walked away, Garcia and Morgan just stared at one another. "So we're..."
"Going to spend then next ten minutes in my office finding everything out about this mystery person Spencer has been apparently dating for two years?"
"You read my mind mama. A little Christmas snooping never hurt anyone..."
#x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid fluff#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#Spencer reid x y/n angst#Dr Spencer reid x dr!reader#spencer reid x gn!reader#spencer reid x reader angst#spencer reid x male reader#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction
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TMI Tuesday!
Happy Boxing Day, Tumblr!
After a few weeks of things being more than a little hectic, both in my personal life and at work, I had an absolutely MARVELOUS Christmas weekend. It was simultaneously relaxing and productive. It was very chill, very calm. There was no talk of politics or social troubles. I wrote an entire chapter of Courtship over the course of two days.
Paradise.
You may have noticed that my long-promised winter solstice fic didn't get posted on the Solstice. We're just gonna have to live with that. Between this and Live Wire, I've learned that just because I have an idea for a long, that really isn't an indication of its potential as a good story. I do intend to finish Solstice and post it... at some point. The story is a sweet moment, but it didn't come with a hard deadline like my RSS fic, or a compelling plot like Courtship.
Speaking of which, Courtship is going to start posting on Friday January 5. I'm gonna try a weekly schedule for this one, instead of bi-weekly. I can't wait to show you guys how Lacey French became Mrs. Gold.
On Saturday, I posted my Rumbelle Secret Santa fic, Wrapping Up Her Christmas Gift. It's a loose sequel to my old fic Begging on His Bended Knees, another session with the same characters. This is two chapters of cross-dressing, pegging and pining. Kinky emotions, that's my jam.
I have been having lots of fun reading the RSS fics that my fellow Rumbellers have posted. I love this event, especially nowadays, because it seems to get people to come out of the woodwork. New authors have an excuse to get started, new readers have something to read, old writers and readers can both get back into the game. It's a magical time of the year.
In addition to being open to questions about my new fic, I am also going to post a list of "year in review" kind of questions. I don't know how much I'm going to get to them today. There are still parties and things to do between Christmas and New Year's. This might end up being a TMI week. Feel free to ask me anything, and have a fabulous day!
Wrapping Up Her Christmas Gift is here
My Inbox is here
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Stuffing Stockings
Pairing: Wife!Reader x Husband!Spencer
Description: Spencer and you have been married for ten years with a beautiful six year old daughter. Whenever she gives you her Christmas list, you notice something new on the list and bring it up to your husband.
Content/Warnings: Dad!Spencer, discussions of expanding family, interest in being pregnant/wanting another baby, breeding kink, oral sex (f rec), penetrative sex, mention of failed test and disappointment, happy ending.
Word Count: 3.5K
Merry Christmas, my sweeties! Santa T is giving you a present because of how much I love you all!
“Mama, I have my Christmas list ready!” Matilda announced, a bright smile on her face revealing the front tooth that the tooth fairy had recently come to take. She was a spitting image of Spencer, beautiful honey colored irises and soft brunette curls that framed her face, not to mention her intellect and her determination that no doubt her father had an influence on.
“Your Christmas list? You’re early,” You smiled fondly as you looked over at the flower filled calendar on the wall closest to the stove, your coffee cup held comfortably between your hands. “Let me hear it, come on!” You urge on, an excited grin on your face.
You always loved Christmas, however having Matilda just made the holidays so much better. Nothing compared to seeing her excitement whenever you’d place wrapped gifts under your Christmas tree, or when you’d ask her to help you make Christmas treats that her and Spencer would end up eating just days after they were made.
You wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“Well. I would like an American Girl doll, Rebecca Rubin to be exact.” Not a surprise. She loved dolls, her father spoiling her with any accessory or set she asked for. “And then I would like some light up sneakers, please. Sam has some at school and I think they are so cool!” She continued. The rest of the things she lifted were usual for a little girl. Until she got to the last thing on that list.
“And then I want a little brother or sister.” She concluded, a wide grin on your face. The mere suggestion had you nearly choking on the mouthful of coffee, your eyes widening some. “Uncle Luke and aunt Penny said that I have to write it in my list so it happens!”
Penelope and Luke. Classic.
“A baby brother or sister?” You repeated, watching those beautiful curls bounce as the kindergartner nodded her head. “You do know that they won’t be here in time for Christmas if that happens, right?” You asked, wanting to break it gently to her that even if she got what she wanted, it would be well past Christmas before she got a sibling.
“Oh. I know. Babies grow in mommy’s bellies for nine whole months. Which seems like a long time but I think it’ll go by fast! Oh please, mama?! A baby would be cute and cuddly, even whenever they are cranky!”
The begging was tugging at your heart. She really wanted this, didn’t she? You and Spencer were financially stable enough for you to stay home while he worked with the BAU, not to mention that you both could definitely handle Matilda and a new baby. “You know I have to talk to daddy about this before we make a decision.”
After that, the idea of another baby was stuck in your mind. Your first pregnancy was rough, however you still really did enjoy the process of growing a future scholar who would change the world. Just thinking about it had you reminiscing, especially when it came to being pregnant. You could remember every appointment, the announcement to your friends and families, all the excitement that you and Spencer felt with every heartbeat and every little kick.
Your husband had gotten home relatively early on a Saturday evening after a long case in Tampa, Florida. He was toeing his shoes off by the front door in an effort to surprise you and Matilda, the two of you unaware he was even coming home today. You were in the kitchen making dinner while your shared daughter was at the table, happily coloring in her new coloring book.
It was a blissful sight, the domesticity of it all bringing normalcy to Spencer’s busy and sometimes abnormal feeling life. “You two look peaceful,” He decided to speak up, Matilda quickly turning in her chair to look at her father. With a wide smile and teary eyes, she was quickly leaping from the chair to run into your husband’s expecting arms. “Hi!” He chuckled fondly while kissing her cheek sweetly.
“I missed you!” She whined out, keeping a tight hold on her father. “I thought you weren’t gonna home until after Christmas!” She added on, making Spencer’s heart drop. He loved his job but he hated being away for what could’ve been weeks at a time. That was the hardest part.
“Hey, I’m home now and I’m gonna be here for Christmas. I promise. In fact,” He was picking up Matilda while resting her on his hip. “I need to see your Christmas list!” He grinned while bouncing his daughter. “Mama, where’s the list?” Spencer then asked as he turned his attention to you.
“Oh, mama needs to talk to you about that!” The six year old in his arms perked up, making Spencer look at you with an amused, yet questionable look.
“Talk to me? About what? Don’t tell me that Tilly wants to get a car or something already.” Spencer teased. A car might’ve been easier convincing depending on how he felt about expanding the family.
“Not exactly a car,” You laughed a bit while grabbing the list that had been neatly folded and stuck to the fridge with a magnet. “She wants a new American girl doll, a new accessory set to go with said doll, light up sneakers, a dollhouse,” You paused while reading over the last item. “And a baby brother or sister.”
Spencer felt like the items on the list were easy enough. A doll, some accessories, a dollhouse and sneakers. He could knock that out with just one shopping trip. However whenever he heard the last item, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “A new brother or sister, huh?” He asked slowly, glancing at the little girl who smiled widely.
“I know the baby won’t be here for Christmas, daddy.” Matilda just knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t wanna break the news she’d have to wait for that. Her reassurance had him taking in a breath of relief though. That little girl was too smart for her own good.
“Well. That’s a big decision. You think you’re ready to be a big sister? Cause babies are a lot of work.” Spencer asked, a smile on his face at her sheer excitement he was entertaining the idea. “They cry a lot. Plus, they always need a lot of attention. That’ll mean that sometimes mama and daddy will be busy with the baby.” He said softly while rubbing her back.
“I know and it’s okay! Babies need more help because they can’t really eat on their own or go potty in the bathroom, so that’s why you and mommy will need to pay extra attention sometimes. But babies are small and cute! And they always want cuddles!” Now that sounded like something Penelope Garcia would say of course she’d gotten to Matilda about the idea. She was just saying at the office that she was wanting another baby around.
You offered a smile. “Well, it sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into it, Tilly! You know that me and dad have to talk about it though, as grownups.” You added, although judging by your husband’s wide smile and the twinkle in his eye, he was already sold on the entire Christmas list. Well, maybe this was easier to convince than a new car.
After dinner and baths were in order, it wasn’t long before you and Spencer were tucking Matilda into bed for the night. Gently closing the door behind you both, Spencer finally turned his attention to you. “A new baby. Wow..” He brought up the idea immediately, his arms gently wrapping around your waist. “How do you feel about the idea?”
You smiled, body leaning back against his as you let out a soft hum of content. “Well, at first I was wary. Then the more I thought about it.. The more I really wanted it.” You said softly, head tilting up to face him more. “I mean, I think we’ve got this parenting thing down. Plus, I miss being pregnant and having a baby around. I feel like it’s going to be a positive change for us. Parents of two.”
That was all Spencer needed to hear to have him sold completely. “I agree. We are pretty good at this.” He chuckled a bit while moving to press a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s always fun trying too, huh? Maybe All our practicing will pay off.” He teased, making you laugh as you were playfully hitting his arm. “Hey! I’m just saying what we are both thinking!” He laughed in return.
The both of you had retired to your bedroom for the night, gently closing the door behind you both. “It’s so good to have you home. I’ve missed you.” You sighed, offering a smile as you were heading over to sit on the edge of your shared bed. “It’s just not the same without you home but I know you have to save the world.” You smiled fondly, watching as your husband was shedding from his clothes.
“I know, honey. I miss being home with you and Tilly more than anything when I have to be gone.” Spencer expressed his own feelings before heading over to you, kneeling in front of you with a soft smile. “But I’m glad to be home now,” He began, pressing kisses to your legs while getting settled between them. His hands were working on the button of your shorts before tugging them down your legs. “Besides, I’m gonna be here for the holidays and I even took the time off to make sure of it.” He hummed, his kisses moving to your inner thighs.
“Working on the list early, I see.” You teased, brushing the mop of brunette curls from your husband’s face as he was playfully nipping on your plush inner thigh, lifting his head.
“Guilty. I feel like this is the most expensive present Tilly is getting.” He teased, the both of you sharing a little giggle before he was going right back to where he started.
Those kisses ended with your hips being tugged close to the end of the bed, his tongue lapping over your clothed clit. “God, I’ve missed you.” He murmured, hands working to tug your panties down your legs. Spencer was absolutely pleased with the sight of your glistening pussy, mouth salivating at the sight. It had been far too long for his liking.
“Pretty girl. You look like you’ve missed me too.” He purred, tongue moving to flick over your throbbing bud, only chuckling as you were already clutching his hair. He didn’t make an effort to tease you long, tongue already delving into the warmth of your cunt as he was so focused on drinking every ounce of your essence, taking whatever you had to give him.
“Spencer, fuck.” You squeaked, legs practically locking around his head to keep him in place as he was too drunk on lapping and sucking at your desperate pussy. The thought of a new baby excited him in more ways than one.
There was the calm and innocent way that just had him thrilled to have a new baby and expand your beautiful family. Then there was the dirty and not so innocent side of him that knew there would be a lot of nights where he was stuffing your pussy just in an effort to get that positive test. Just the thought of his cum dripping down your trembling thighs was enough to have him hard as a rock, his cock begging for attention while he was so focused on giving you all of his.
While his tongue feverishly lapped at your wetness, his hands were gripping your hips just a little tighter. Truth be told, Spencer could get off merely from cunnilingus alone. He fed off of your pleasure, the way you would shove his head more into your weeping cunt for more was enough to make his cock twitch in his boxers right now.
Although even through all the excitement, he was soon pulling away from your pussy much to both of your dissatisfaction. “I feel like I’m gonna cum in my boxers and I’m not wasting what I could be giving you,” He added on, breathing labored as he was quickly getting up to shed his boxers while you were quick to do away with your clothes on your torso, shirt and bra thrown somewhere out of sight and out of mind.
With one hand tugging at his cock, the other was quickly helping you scoot back on your bed, knowing you’d end up flying off if he dared pull you even just an inch closer from your current spot.
“Comfortable?” He asked, watching you simply grab his arm to pull him on top of you. You didn’t even mind the feeling of his body crushing you for a split second, you knew that you needed him, now. Spencer was adjusting himself into a more comfortable position on top of you, his hand sliding between your thighs. He collected some of your arousal on his fingers before holding them up to show them off to you.
You knew what was coming next, your mouth now open as you were waiting for the intrusion of his fingers. He learned it was the easiest way to keep you quiet when you needed to be. As you took the digits in your mouth, you were sucking on his fingers. “There we go.” Spencer praised as he was shifting, now pushing his leaking cock into your pussy with a soft groan.
“I love you.” He breathed, letting his hips slowly snap against yours just to build you up for what was to come. Your face was contorted in pleasure as you muffled an ‘I love you’ around his fingers in return.
The thought of you being pregnant was bringing out an animalistic side of your normal gentle husband. He loved seeing you pregnant with your first, it made him feel like he was finally contributing to society in the aspect of bringing another potential genius into the world who would do amazing things. The way you looked swollen with his child filled him with pride.
It was also a bragging right. Yes, he had your hand in marriage but he also cemented the fact you were his. You were getting filled with his cum, begging him to ravage you the way you deserved. He was the only one who could make you feel good.
The thought of you being pregnant with his second child was enough to make his thrusts get harder and faster. It was the ultimate act of love to carry his child, to raise a family with him. The ultimate act of intimacy of allowing him to know the pleasures of a family and a successful marriage.
You were squirming underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Spencer was all too focused on the images flooding his mind. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted. “You want me to fill you up? Give you a baby? Fuck.” Cursing was pretty rare for Spencer but just the mere slip of a curse word had your pussy clenching around his cock, signaling you were ready as well.
With a few more sloppy snaps of his thrusts, you could feel the warmth of his spent flooding your cunt, your legs trembling as the sensation was enough to have you reaching your climax. “Fuck.” You panted, your husband’s fingers now being pulled out of your mouth.
His face was flushed, brunette curls plastered to his sweaty forehead as he looked down at you. “You know, I wish we had this idea before. Christmas is coming up so soon, we won’t even be able to get a positive test for her in time for the holiday if we get lucky after this time.”
“I think that Tilly is gonna be happy either way, to be fairly honest. You should’ve seen the way she looked at me when she was asking for a new sibling. She was so excited.” You recalled, smiling in content as you were slowly, but surely, catching your breath.
With soft eyes, Spencer leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your lips. “I’m really happy she brought it up first. I’ve been wanting another baby for a while but I didn’t want you to feel obligated.” The confession had your hand lightly swatting at your husband’s chest.
“Why didn’t you talk to me before?! I never would’ve felt obligated. I’ve always wanted a big family, you know that.”
The reassurance had your husband chuckling fondly. “I know, I know. I promise that for the next little Reid, I’ll get to you before our daughter.” He teased, nose nuzzling into your cheek before he was pushing himself out of bed. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, mama.”
—--
It was currently the third week of January, Matilda freshly back in school for the second semester. It was after you dropped Tilly off at school that you were feeling off. You’d been sick the past week or so, mostly just chalking it up to be a bug Matilda seemingly brought home. The more awful you felt, the more you were worrying. Being pregnant wasn’t a problem at all, however the way you would get your hopes up would be.
You’d pushed the idea back for a while, it wasn’t until you were sick for the fifth time that you figured that the test would be better than nothing. You’d only gotten one negative, however with the brain of your husband and his facts about conception, he still gave you some hope.
The sound of the timer going off in the bathroom snapped you out of your thoughts. It was now or never. As you approached the bathroom, you could feel your heart begin to race. If you were pregnant, that would be the best little surprise for your little family. If not, well, you’d at least get to be heartbroken in peace.
Taking in a deep breath and mustering up all of your courage, you were lifting the test from the sink. You felt like you were going to be sick from a mixture of your ailment as well as the nerves. You exhaled the breath you took in seconds before, eyes fixed on the test.
Pregnant.
You nearly fainted, free hand covering your mouth from the surprise. Pregnant, you’re pregnant. Pregnant!!!!
You were thrilled, the test being tucked away in its box before you were hiding it away. You were going to have to show Spencer and Matilda when they got home. You didn’t have the strength to keep it a huge secret and put a surprise together, they needed to know as soon as possible.
Spencer had gotten to go home early in order to pick up Matilda, something rare that Emily gave him the chance to do considering he was away so much as is. If only those two knew what they were coming home to.
You were just getting finished with a snack for your daughter whenever you heard the sound of keys jingling in the door. It’s now or never!
“We are home!” The little voice called from the living room, the child taking off her coat and backpack before making sure to hang them up.
“Hi you two.” You offered a smile, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s cheek, followed by a quick peck on your husband’s lips. “Tilly, I have you a snack.” She hummed fondly, watching the little brunette hurry to the table. “You might wanna sit down as well,” You informed your husband, who raised an eyebrow.
Without question, he’d approached the table before sitting himself down. “Are we in trouble?” He teased, making you roll your eyes fondly.
“No. I just have something I need to tell you both.” You hummed, grabbing the wrapped box from the counter before placing it on the table. “I found this in the closet. It was addressed to you two, I think we forgot it around Christmas.”
“Forgot it? Mama, we never forget presents.” Matilda spoke around a mouthful of apple slices, although her curiosity was piqued as she leaned against the table. “Open it, daddy!” She urged.
As the colorful wrapping paper was peeled away, the male was opening the box. He knew what it was, however he wanted Matilda to have the first big reaction. The minute that the stick was on the table, you could practically see Matilda’s eyes pop out of their sockets from surprise. “Does that say pregnant?!” She asked, looking at her mother with a wide smile. “There’s a baby?!”
Her excitement made you want to cry your eyes out. “There’s a baby!” You gushed happily. “Now, I still have to go to the doctor because I don’t have specifics just yet,” You began, although your daughter was all too happy to quickly run into your body, arms wrapped around your torso.
“We are gonna have a baby!!!!”
#spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfic#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid smut#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#dad!spencer
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i saw mommy kissing santa claus | joel miller
Summary | Your daughter catches you kissing santa... or does she?
Word Count | 1.3K
Warnings | Mentions of traditional Christmas (A tree, gift giving ect), Joel dressed as Santa, Joel being a daddy again, Joel AS A HUSBAND, smut but not super explicit - oral sex (f) and unprotected PiV, just general fluff really.
Authors note | Firstly, I have to give a huge shoutout to @wildemaven - the Dave York piece she posted recently definitely inspired this little Drabble, along with being stuck in a car with my bestie for three hours with the Christmas radio blaring. This is just some sweet Christmas fluff for us all!
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.
amazing divider by @saradika
The way the snow flurries fall outside are still a wonder to you, even after seven years of winters in Jackson. The warmth you remember from Christmas before the end of the world is a distant memory now, the open windows and the light breeze of December now replaced with the biting cold and the four layers you must wear inside your home to keep as warm as possible. It’s magical though, the way it looks picture perfect, just like the movies you would watch back then. If you could, you’d take a photo of it, use it as the family Christmas card.
Turning around from the window, the room is bathed in the orange glow from the fire you set a few hours earlier. The lamp, on Joel’s side of the couch is also helping, as are the frosty lights wrapped haphazardly around the tree, in making it feel normal. Because really it is. This has been your life for the past five years, putting up a tree, setting small gifts under it like you always had before all of this. The three stockings set above the fireplace, ready to be filled in the next few hours – the precursor of joy the following morning.
Sofia had thankfully gone to bed with little fuss tonight. Finally old enough to understand that the earlier she went to sleep, the earlier she could wake up to find out if Santa had paid her a visit. She hadn’t been planned, but then when were children ever a plan in this new world? You’d been scared, Joel had been terrified, but in the end, she had been the most wonderful thing to happen to the both of you.
You settle on the couch, letting the warmth from the fire soothe the aches that the cold now settles across your bones. You’re almost able to fall asleep, when, with clockwork timing, Joel tears open the front door, a flurry of snow and cold following him in as he closes it behind him. You struggled to stifle a giggle as you turn to look at him.
Dressed head to toe in a Santa costume that is far too big for him, not enough time for the town seamstress to do anything other than pin the sides of the trousers in. The hat on his head is almost covering his eyes, his hand pushing it back to sit properly, as he deposits the sack, once full of tiny gifts but now empty, on the ground. He’s got a fake beard on to cover most of his face so that none of the children that did see him would know it was Joel.
“Wow,” You muse lightly, standing from the couch, “I thought it was customary to wait for everyone to go to sleep before you turned up?”
There’s a slight grumble from under his beard as you step closer to him, watching as he pulls the fake beard down to sit around his neck, his beautiful face finally revealed. You set your back against the closed door, leaning against it, fluttering your eyelashes slightly.
“Did you bring us presents, Santa?” You ask, voice sultry and low.
“Depends,” Joel says, voice just as low, “Have you been a good girl this year?”
That low, southern drawl shoots straight between your legs, thighs rubbing together as you shrug at him, wrinkle your nose a little, “You’d have to ask my husband.”
You watch as he smirks, steps a little closer to you, his gloved hand wrapping around your waist, “What would he say?”
“That I can be a handful,” You bite at your bottom lip, “But ultimately, I always do as I’m told.”
Joel leans down, as slowly as possible, mouth so close you can feel his breath across your lips, your body tugged closely to his own now, “Well then,” He muses, “If you’ve been a good girl, it’s only right you get your gift.”
His mouth is on yours in no time, softly pressed against yours, his hand clutching your body close to his as you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing up on your tiptoes so your mouth is finally flush with his own. You open your mouths at the same time, tongues meeting as Joel groans into your mouth, hands pulled from your body just long enough to tear the gloves off his hands, shoving them straight under the hem of your shirt, resting at your waist to move you gently from the door to the couch.
He sets you down on your back, fumbling his big body to cover yours as those hands of his work to undo your jeans - tearing them down your legs enough so he can put his mouth on you. You feel weirdly like a teenager, fumbling with someone on the couch like this, biting down on your fist in order to keep quiet as Joel’s tongue works across your soaked cunt, drinking you down, tipping you over the edge twice with his mouth - the second, with his fingers buried deep inside you - trying to keep yourself as quiet as you can, you know the other option is waking your daughter and having to spend the rest of the night trying to get her to go back to sleep.
It gets harder to hold that noise in when Joel pulls you onto his lap, trousers pushed down just enough for you to sink down onto his cock, that stupid Santa jacket unbuttoned, pushed off his shoulders, your mouth biting down on his skin as he fucks up into you, his hands gripping the meat of your ass to keep you still.
It’s messy, it lasts probably less than five minutes, Joel spilling himself inside of you, your mouth pulled from his shoulder, bite mark evident as he moves you gently, puts himself right so he can carry you up the stairs, tuck you both into bed, his warm body next to yours as you both drift off to sleep, sated and happy.
Then, the next morning, with Sofia on her knees in front of the tree, you sat on the couch, curled into Joel’s side with a smile on your face at the elation your daughter finds in tearing the paper off her gifts, she says something no-one expects.
“Daddy?” She says, big brown eyes looking up at the two of you.
“Yes, Darlin’?”
“Mommy was kissing Santa last night.”
You almost choke on your coffee, spluttering to try and keep your composure, praying to the Almighty that it was just the kissing she saw. Joel though, is cool as a cucumber.
“Is that right?” He asks, looking down at you with a wink.
“Yeah!” Sofia exclaims, “I saw her last night.”
“You were supposed to be in bed.” You chastise her lightly, “What were you doing up?”
“I heard the door open,” She says, so matter-of-factly that it’s like having a conversation with an adult, “I wanted to meet him.”
“Well, you see,” Joel speaks, “Sometimes, to get your presents from Santa, he’s gotta ask for somethin’ in return, all that travellin’ in one night and he sees your pretty mama?” He shakes his head, “I’d ask her for a kiss too.”
She mulls it over a little, small hands holding onto an unopened gift, then clearly accepts the explanation as she tears into the paper.
“Nicely saved,” You whisper into his ear, lips pressing a kiss to the delicate skin behind it, “Christmas is saved.”
“Oh baby,” He whispers back, taking the lull in Sofia’s attention on the two of you to look down at you, “You can’t think you can kiss Santa and get away with it?” His low voice sends a silver down your spine, “You’re gonna have to make up for that later."
#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x you#Joel Miller x female reader#Joel Miller x f!reader#Joel Miller smut#Joel Miller#Joel Miller fic#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller fanfiction#The last of us#the last of us hbo#tlou#tlou hbo#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfic#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#the last of us smut#tlou smut#joel miller the last of us#Joel tlou#Joel Miller tlou#Pedro Pascal#Joel Miller Pedro Pascal
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Christmas Realizations-D. Ricciardo
Daniel Ricciardo x wife! Reader
Christmas morning with your small family makes Daniel realize he wouldn’t mind another kid…as soon as possible
Warnings?; SMUT; breeding kink, unprotected sex, p in v, light fingering, slight cum play?, cursing, kissing, pregnancy, basically porn with a plot.
Day 5 of my ficmas celebration!
The sound of the bedroom door creaking open along with the soft struggles of his daughter climbing onto the bed is what woke Daniel up.
Opening his eyes he was met with the large toothless smile of his four year old, Gracie. The little girl was all Daniel on the inside but her hair and everything else was all you.
“Daddy, Get up it’s Christmas!” she beamed, face right in front of his.
“I am up baby, calm down” he laughed at her enthusiasm before continuing, “We gotta get mommy and Ollie up first.” 
The small girl went to issue another complaint but was quickly interrupted by giggles as her father pulled her into his arms and blew raspberry’s into her cheek.
“Daddy! That tickles.” The girl laughed at the feeling of his beard against her skin.
The beautiful sound of their shared giggles is what woke you up to, turning to face the giggling pair you were met with large smiles as they realized you had woken up as well.
“Mommy! It’s Christmas, we have to get Ollie so we can go see if Santa came” the four year old beamed.
“Okay why don’t you go wake him up, me and daddy will be right behind you.” You replied softly, running a hand through her soft hair.
“Okay!” She cheered, sliding off the bed she took off down the hall to do her favorite part of the day, waking up her little brother.
“Morning Mama” Daniel smirked as he pulled you into him, his ringed hand taking place on the curve of your butt.
Your lips pulled up in a smirk that mirrored his as you leaned in and locked your lips, it was slow but hot and Daniel found himself releasing a groan as your tongue slipped into his mouth.
Pulling away from him you placed one more peck to his lips, “Morning daddy.”
And with that you were rolling away from him and pulling on your slippers to make your way towards your son’s room.
“Wait! Honey that’s not fair.” He grumbled, standing up to adjust the not-so-subtle erection in his pajama pants.
“Dad come on! You’re taking foreverrrr” your lovely daughter dramatically spoke once her father met the three of you at the top of the stairs.
“Oh hush the presents aren’t going anywhere.” He laughed as her little body took off down the stairs.
“Good morning my little man” Daniel smiled towards his son as he took him from your arms once you all made it to the living room.
“Hi dada.” The little boy smiled at his father.
Oliver Ricciardo was a spitting image of his father, he had everything from the eyes, to the smile, to the curls. You had felt as if it were Daniel who carried him for nine months.
“Ready to open some gifts?.”
“Yeah!” And with that Daniel sat his son down and watched him run over to you and his big sister on the carpet and begin to rip open the gifts that had taken you countless hours to wrap.
A few hours later after the excitement of new gifts had died down and the kids were finally laying down for a nap Daniel found you at the sink washing the dishes from breakfast.
“Hi mama.” He spoke as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder.
“Hi Danny.” You smiled
“So, I was thinking..”
“Oh god, that’s never good.” You laughed at the pinch his fingers left on your waist.
“First off rude, secondly I’m being serious.” He spoke softly.
At the sound of that you turned the running water off and turned to face him, you were met with warm but serious eyes.
“What’s been going through that head of yours?” You asked, hands moving up to wrap around his neck.
“Have you thought about having another one?” He asked.
“Another what?”
“Another kid, I mean Gracie started pre-k this year and watching her and Oliver this morning made me realize just how fast the time is going. Plus My contract is up in two years and I already told Christian I was done after that.
You stayed silent as you took in his words, kids had always been something you wanted and while your two held your heart in their small hands you knew you wanted another, but it was hard with Daniel being gone so much.
Noticing your hesitation Daniel spoke up again, “I won’t pressure you into another one, but think about it, we have the room and the process is pretty fun.” He smirked
He knew he got you at that, he didn’t buy a five bedroom house for no reason and the baby making sex was always some of the best sex you’d ever had.
“I guess a third one wouldn’t hurt.” You blushed.
“Yeah?” He asked, hands that had been contently resting on your waist moving down to your ass.
“Mhm”
“What d’you say we start right now?” He smirked down at you with darkening eyes.
“Daniel the kids are upstairs.” You giggled as his beard tickled the sensitive skin of your neck as he began to place kisses on the skin.
A surprised gasp escaped from you as your body was spun around and bent over the sink.
“Gotta be quiet then.” Daniel spoke in your ear as his body bent over your back.
He kissed down your cotton covered back until he reached the waistband of your pants, hands quickly pulling them down to reveal your cotton panties.
“So wet for me baby” he cooed, running a thick finger through your folds.
A shudder ran through your body at the feeling of his fingers coming into contact with your dripping folds, a shaky breath coming from you at the feeling the coldness of his wedding band as he pushed his ring finger into you.
“Danny, please.” You begged.
“Please what baby? What do you need.”
“Need you to fuck me, wanna be full of you.” You pleaded, turning your head to try and get a a glimpse of him.
“Yeah? Want me to fill you up? Want me to fuck you nice and full?” He growls.
“Yes, please Danny, please” you beg, smirking when you hear a breathless “fuck” behind you and the sound of his pants hitting the floor.
A small groan escapes Daniel as he pumps himself slowly, his free hand coming to rest on the back of your neck for leverage as he slides in slowly.
A choked gasp comes from your throat at how thick he is, it didn’t matter how many times Daniel fucked you it always felt like the first time.
However he doesn’t thrust up at first, teasingly grinding his hips allowing you to feel every ridge and vein on his cock.
“Daniel please go faster, wanna make you a daddy again.”
That was all it took for Daniel to lose his remaining self control, his hips snapping against yours at a fast pace while his hand remained on your neck to keep you in place.
Bringing a hand up to quite the lewd sounds escaping you wasn’t worth much because soon Daniel had a fist of your hair and used it to pull your back against his chest.
“Can’t wait to put another baby inside you, watch your stomach grow. Fuck your so hot when your pregnant.” He groaned into your ear, lips moving down to kiss along your neck.
Something carnal takes place in you when his hand comes to rub your stomach, hand going right over where your bump would start to form once you were pregnant.
“Dan-fuck, so good” you cried at the feeling of his tip nudging your most sensitive spot.
He turns your head to lock your lips, his mouth swallowing your cries as he continues to fuck into you at an ungodly pace.
His hand leaves your hair and a deep cry leaves your mouth as both of his large hands cup your breasts under your bra, fingertips pulling and pitching at the skin.
“Can’t wait to watch these grow, watch them get all swollen for me.” He growled.
His hands return to your waist as he begins fucking you harder and harder, his hips moving at a pace you’ve never experienced before. His movements never falter even as you reach a hand back in attempt to slow him down, he knows you can take it, and he knows you want this as bad as him.
“D-fuck, Daniel!, to much.” You cry as the pleasure completely takes over your body, the fire in your lower stomach getting hotter and hotter.
“Squeezing me so tight honey, fuck-can’t wait to fill you up.”
Daniel is met with loud cry as a he watches your body shake below his, hands gripping onto the edge of the sink for dear life.
“Danny, ca-can’t take anymore.” You cry as he continues to fuck you through your high, hips moving wildly as he chases a high of his very own.
“Almost there honey, just hang in there for me.” He groans, hands holding your waist so tight, he knows there will be bruises tomorrow, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.
You feel his thrusts become sloppy as a loud groan of his own escapes his throat, warmth spreading inside you as he paints your walls with his release.
“Fuck” he groans, chest heaving as he finally caught his breath.
“You good honey?”
His laugh fills the air as you give him a thumbs up, still a bit dazed from your orgasm. Gasps released from the both of you as Daniel pulled out.
You move to stand straight up but a hand on your back stops your movements, throwing your husband a confused look over your shoulder you move to speak but the feeling of his fingers running through your folds cut you off.
“Shit!, Daniel what the hell.” You cried.
“It’s dripping out of you sweetheart, gotta keep it in there. Make sure it sticks.”
-
February 14th, 2024
You smiled brightly at Daniel as you handed him the long box that was sealed with a pretty red bow.
“What? Honey this is unfair, I would’ve got you something. I thought we agreed no gifts.” He spoke once finished his bite of steak.
“Be quiet and open it.” You laughed.
With a taunting mock he opened the box, eyes growing wide as he looked at what sat inside.
“Shut up, are you serious?” He asked, holding the stick in his hand.
“Mhm”
“We did it? We’re gonna have another baby!?” He beamed brightly.
You nodded, breath getting stuck in your throat as the tears began to fall and within seconds Daniel was up and pulling you from your chair into his arms.
“I love you so fucking much.” He cried, pressing kisses all over your face before his lips finally found yours.
It was breathtaking and full of pure love, his hands tangled in your hair to keep you as close as possible.
“I love you more.” You smiled once the two of you parted.
“Do you know how far along you are?” He questioned.
“No, I took the test after I realized I had missed my period, probably no more than six weeks.” You spoke.
He gave you once more sweet kiss before he dropped to his knees in front of you, sticking his head under the skirt of your loose dress as he placed light kisses on your stomach.
“Hi baby, it’s dad. I know you probably can’t hear me yet but we love you so much and we’re so excited to watch you grow and eventually meet you. Now watch out because I’m taking momma upstairs to celebrate.” He spoke and with a finale kiss he was back on his feet and picking you up bridal style.
“Come on honey, gotta go celebrate.” He smirked as he took off up the stairs towards your bedroom.
-
#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciardo#daniel riccardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x you#f1blr#f1 fluff#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1#jay’sficmas
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Not So Secret Santa
javier peña x fem!reader
this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!
summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.
warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.
tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.
word count : 4.4k
✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)
no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.
lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics
“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging.
“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.
“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.
“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim.
“My entire Christmas bonus.”
“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”
“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest.
“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh.
“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this.
“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work.
“Please, Steve.”
“No.”
You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours.
When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process.
“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away.
Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today.
Javier P.
Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office.
And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with.
Every single woman, except you.
You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner.
He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be.
“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo.
“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed.
“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk.
“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her.
“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs.
You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails.
Red chipped paint.
You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.
It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway.
Probably.
It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you?
With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless.
Stupid fucking Peña.
Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car.
“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.
Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though.
You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap.
Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday.
Jesus.
You know way too much about him.
You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails.
“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette.
Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night.
There’s no time to be thinking like that.
You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.
Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower.
The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.
“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt.
“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes.
He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.
More people show up than you could have expected.
You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses.
You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours.
Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt.
You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach.
String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation.
“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie.
He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier.
Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.
One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.
You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up.
“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift.
“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things.
“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away.
Javier traded for your name?
As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting.
“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”
Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.
Huh.
That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again.
Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident.
Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend.
Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.
You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people.
Javier’s office.
You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.
Today is just not your day.
Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand.
Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him.
“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult.
“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab.
What a foolish question.
How could he possibly not know?
“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home.
“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall.
“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face.
“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow.
“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”
“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?
This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out.
“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends.
“So this is about the secret Santa.”
Of course he wouldn’t get it.
“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him.
You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first.
“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms.
“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.
“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide.
You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye.
“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night.
“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.”
If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go.
You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you.
Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.
When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole.
“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth.
“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts.
You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt.
You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment.
Jesus you’re soaked.
You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him.
He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here.
You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.
Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock.
Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission.
You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you.
You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust.
You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor.
“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.
He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk.
Did that really just happen?
He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time.
“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning.
“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk.
“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while.
“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.
“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin.
“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss.
It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait.
“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.
He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.
Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier.
[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]
Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting.
from : your secret fucking santa
a/n : happy holidays everyone!!
#pedrostoriesgift23#lincolndjarin#taro-666 <3#javier pena smut#javier peña#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena narcos#javier pena x reader#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal
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hades! konig and persephone! reader
content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. abduction, voyeurism, dubcon, not very explicit smut.
notes: this has been on my mind for an eternity actually thank you sweet anon for finally encouraging me to write it out! if you celebrate, merry christmas! and if not consider this just a lil gift for absolutely no reason apart from for being my first Kö request. 💕
A hollow grows within him the moment his gaze meets hers. A chance crossing whilst collecting a rare offering of fruit laid out just for him. Most mortals wouldn’t beckon his attention, and the gods often left him just as well. He knows better than to take insult and become reckless, though… recklessness comes as easily as breathing when his stare settles on her across the glade. She twirls in silent dance, pirouetting carefully as if to avoid crushing the nature that springs up, brushing against her soles. Her voice picks up in a song when she notes the figure watching her from a distance, her cadence no less beautiful than any choir despite the flighty waver in her tone.
When the nymphs rise up from the stream to listen, he stands transfixed for a moment as they pull her in with them for a more elaborate dance, voices all melding until they break into a chorus of giggles and stories.
It should have been left at that.
She walks an earth made for her; flowers blossoming beneath her bare soles, each root extending for just a chance to brush against tender flesh, a breeze that flits gently against her hair. The daughter of Demeter, something unattainable, too precious to be dirtied by the howling abyss below her feet.
He is tethered to darkness and unknowns, an enigma with dried blood beneath his fingernails; the only songs he hears are screams. He’s since stolen flowers from the meadows she dances in. Beautiful peonies and soft green things that smell sweet. Flowers don’t bloom in the dark, they wither and dry.
Days are spent in melancholic longing, nights his roaring grief melds with the wailing of lost souls. Ugly and tainted noises that he dreams will reach her ears, that she will come to him with her lashes wet with tears, wrap him in her arms and quiet all but her own voice as she tells him that he’s more beautiful than her rivers and her blooms.
Yet, she never does.
König takes it upon himself to walk the land of mortals, teemed with life and pleasures more often now. He pulls himself from below with unnatural fire behind his eyes, a horrible, yearning abyss in place of the feathery, clumsy love that he’s watched so many others allow for themselves.
She notices him while he watches her bathe amongst the nymphs, stood upright and imposing beneath the shade of a tree. Each time, while the nymphs shy away with giggles and hands curled over their breasts, she merely keeps her eyes on him; lips-parted and pulse raging. He knows, would swear by it, that his obsession is not entirely one-sided.
Once, she chooses to wave at him, a demure flick of her wrist while his stare remains fixed upon her. The droplets of water from the curve of her neck, down to the swell of her breasts and the pebbled nipples there— down, further into the water that envelopes her and sends his mind to flicker, a roaring flame building from his chest to his groin.
All of his frustrations pale and cower at the fantasy that he just may be able to grant himself the liberty of sinking into something writhing and warm from just one, simple gesture.
He knows he’s fucked, because his first thought after the lullaby of attraction subsides is to poke her just a little; prod her and see what makes her cry the hardest, blanket her in the shadow of himself and pick her apart like a vulture to a cadaver, do things to her that no man ever has or should. It’s not right, and he has to force himself to turn away, the fabric of the veil obscuring his face as he slinks back into the dark where he belongs. Away from the untouchable maiden who seems to haunt him endlessly with her teasing.
The giggles and splashes of the nymphs whisper through the air like the chirping of birds. Though, one voice stands out above the rest of the noise, causes him to halt in his tracks.
“Why does he never speak to us?”
Her voice, so sweet, asking about him when she should be speaking of nothing but the beauty surrounding her, the warmth of the sun and never the cold darkness of the moon.
It’s eating away at him, he realizes, when he can no longer satisfy himself. Nights lain in a haze, staring up at blackened walls with his length in hand. All it takes is the memory of wet lashes and a soft smile, usually. Her beauty is enough to bring even him to his knees, yet, he finds himself instead on the brink of hysteria the first night he finds a vision of her is not sufficient enough to reach the brilliant white haze of a climax.
The thought of stealing her away from her world of beauty to drag her down into the dark with him fills him with both elation and a terrible guilt. Zeus himself is no different; the thought shouldn’t warrant a seeping coldness in his veins, nor should it have caused him to spill his seed into his hand with only a mere flick of the pad of his thumb over his tip, yet it accomplishes both. A waste, when it should be buried deep inside of his beloved.
It takes only two nights for him to plot, to have Gaia choose to favor him, and on the third day the Narcissus flower blooms, pretty and golden. It echoes false promises, softness and beauty beyond even the daughter of Demeter’s imaginations. She will hate him, she will. Her very soul will sour the moment she lays her eyes on him next, but eventually… she will come to understand, return his love with a whisper of her own. Lightly, at best, but it would still be more than he had ever known.
He watches the roots of the plant from below, a pinprick of warm light shining down. The thumps of footsteps overhead, shaking down loose soil like raindrops, giggles like crackling thunder. She’s roaming about with her nymphs again, gentle with her and all of her beauty. After watching her for so very long, he’s more than certain they will be braiding the flowers and falling asleep after fits of laughter with the taste of fruit on their tongues. Only, she’s condemned herself by being so predictable. She will fall, not into soft grasses with a woman’s arms thrown over her, but directly into his own. She won’t eat the fruit of the earth, but drink his wine and allow him to lose himself in her flesh, bedded down against the pelts of beasts and blackened out by shadows.
The wait isn’t long. Her voice breaks through the quiet of the earth below her feet, seems to light up even the space between the two of them as her footfalls halt only several paces away.
“Look at this one!,” she calls out.
Several steps follow after her as one of the ladies of the river comes to join her. He imagines the smile on his beloved’s face, the way her body curves as she kneels down to his trap and his fingers twitch in anticipation of what’s to come.
“Maybe not that one, sweet,” the nymph warns. “There are prettier ones by the bank.”
König can feel his jaw tighten, eyelids pausing to narrow up at the small light as he tries, forces himself to believe that this was fated. She wouldn’t turn away— she couldn’t.
“No... just look at it. We’ve not seen one so lovely since last spring.”
“What if someone else planted it for themselves?”
“But… I want it.”
She sounds so pitiful, so gentle, and he can feel that swell of heat curling inside of him again. The urge to simply love her feels all-consuming with each word that passes from her mouth.
The two above giggle to themselves at her mischief, before finally, the roots begin to move from a gentle tug above. In a matter of seconds, the entire plant has been uprooted. For a daughter of nature to not long for its beauty would be unrealistic, yet he still exhales his relief. The earth riots beneath the women’s feet, splintering cracks and loud discordance echo through the valley. The nymph’s shrieks join the disarray as her featherlight footfalls lead her far, far away from what belongs to him: the dark, the rot, and now her.
With so little time to react, she falls headfirst into the abyss, clutching the narcissus tightly between her soft breasts. Waiting arms are raised to the glimpse of sun and beauty to catch her as he pulls her tightly against his chest, tucks her head against a broad shoulder and grasps at her waist. Whatever he had imagined her flesh to feel like paled in comparison to her warmth, the softness that gives with each press of a digit that makes her tense beneath his touch.
She’s crying, shaking, terrified as she weakly raises her head and offers him a smile. It’s the kind of smile that screams savior, and he can’t bring himself to correct her. No one has ever looked at him with such tenderness.
Everything quiets the moment she looks up to him like that, after condemning herself to him as though she knows nothing of men and gods. She looks at him like he’s an angel, in turn he bites his tongue so hard he can feel the pinpricks of blood and soreness blossom from the wound. He knows he isn’t good, but the heavens have got their filth, too.
“Thank you.” She speaks in a whisper as the world above falls back into place, blanketing them both in shadow and the scent of soil and brimstone. Politeness seems unnecessary, now, though he places her gently onto her feet.
He’s far too mesmerized to stop himself from dropping to his knees in front of her and trailing a hand from her knee to her thigh, squeezing flesh so warm that the very feeling lingers pleasantly against his palm.
If a god couldn’t pluck him from this emptiness and set him on a right path, perhaps a goddess could, as he has always imagined. It’s only confirmed the instant he realizes she isn’t flinching away from his touch.
“I didn’t save you,” he explains calmly.
He’s struck down titans, claimed rulership over the underworld, and yet nothing has made him feel smaller than the fretful look in her eyes as she looks down to him kneeling before her like little more than a common man. As if to provide comfort, selfishly to himself, his massive hands drift higher to rest on her hips still wet with river water and blades of grass clinging to her just as he has longed to do. For what’s felt like an eternity of waiting, of pining, only to have it end with something as simple as a flower.
“I brought you here.”
She’s still beautiful when she cries; a palm is clasped over her mouth, eyes swimming as she trembles in his grip. Of course, she knows what this is about without ever having to ask, yet she still does as if to plead him to tell her that her thoughts are all wrong— that she’s safe and will return to her lovely friends, to her mother that would assuredly be worried sick and furious.
The rise to his feet feels like a mile long stretch, whilst he keeps her caged between the dirty wall and the vast expanse of chest. He shushes her with a gentle tone, wipes her tears away with the ghosting of fingertips before pushing up the veil covering his face to lie claim to her mouth as though his very life depended upon it. Perhaps it did. Though he did not fear Demeter, nor his brothers should she call upon them, he feared not having this ethereal, gentle thing at his side. He feared the creep of loneliness that ravaged his bed each night.
She sighs against his mouth, but does not reciprocate. Everything about her is tense and stressed, a wild mare preparing to kick out for the first time. His tongue lolls out to lap against her soft lips, just twice before he forces himself to part from her.
His beloved brushes away stray tears from her cheeks with the meat of her palms, shivering just a little as she tries to force herself to straighten up, appear braver despite the way she teeters on the edge of falling apart so easily before him. The heavy gaze of obsession fixed upon his face turns further predacious when she apologizes for not being able to help herself in response.
“I didn’t know it was yours,” she explains, holding out the ruined flower to him in one, shaking hand. She protests in her own way, eternally kind, but it all falls on deaf ears as he brushes the petals from her palm and takes her up into his arms again. With an arm beneath the backs of her knees and the other wrapped tightly around her middle, he leads her deeper into the underworld.
A mere taste wouldn’t do.
Her protests are nothing more than soft sniffles when he does take her to his bed of pelts, her arm even thrown over his shoulder as her body presses tightly to him. He thinks for only a moment that he could take his time, stop this all before she truly does grow to loathe him, but the descent into the bed only fortifies his resolve; his belief that this gentle woman of the earth, who smells of magnolia and clear waters belonged entirely to him. For now and forevermore.
“You are to be my wife.”
That quiets her for a moment, her eyes finally meeting his once more as he hovers over her, a palm to either side of her head. She has a mind to shyly curl her hand against her chest then, centered between her breasts which rise and fall with each flighty breath. It’s not panic, but more— curiosity, a misleading thing that he takes to be acceptance until she graces him with a mere murmur of her voice again.
“I don’t belong here.”
König knows that she doesn’t belong in a place like this, for all her grace to be lost to the cold, the rot; his kingdom is nothing but a wasteland riddled with the dead and subjects who take up the mantle of cruelty in his stead. The thought of actually allowing her to go instills rage and melancholy so quickly, he curls his fingers into the fur below to keep himself from flinching.
“You will.”
A digit reaches to trail across her bottom lip, tentative, but the need to touch overwhelms him past the point of caring for much else. To his amazement, she still does not push him away.
“How could that be?”
He doesn’t respond.
More than bedding her, a matter more pressing pushes to the forefront of his mind. Though he knows the likelihood of anyone being aware of her disappearance is nonexistent, a mere whisper from the beaks of crows by this time, he would do well to ensure that she wasn’t leaving. Just as every other soul resigned to dwell here with him, she too would remain.
“You’re famished,” he whispers the suggestion as he splays a palm out over her bare abdomen, only backing away enough to allow her a small length of space between them.
Her concerned stare shoots from his palm to his veil in an instant before she weakly nods her head and props herself up on her elbows.
“Quite… yes.”
She allows herself to be pulled into his lap without a fuss, doesn’t make mention of the hardened cock beneath her. His mind is swimming with the fantasies that kept him tame on so many nights without her as he presses his nose against her temple. A shallow intake of breath, and her lips part readily for him as he pushes the sweet pomegranate seed into her mouth, savoring the brush of her tongue against his fingertip. She eats without thought, never knowing how she’s tethered herself to his plane.
There’s an offering of sweet wine followed by a gathering of honeysuckle for her to sip the nectar from as well before he’s convinced she’s pliant enough. Despite the desire raging within him for all of this time, he would not be cruel to her. The thought of hurting this sweet, little dream doesn’t excite him. It’s her love that he wants, not her anguish.
He lies her back with sweet whispers, gentle caresses as he listens to her murmurs in response. She speaks of the stories only small creatures would know; the way the winds change and the rivers flood, the prettiest places she’s been. No fruit has ever tasted sweeter to her than the pomegranate, and nothing has ever filled him with such emotion as the moment he penetrates her.
He speaks to her through it, tries to, whilst he’s overcome with a pleasure that assuredly no other has ever had the blessing of. She affixes herself perfectly to him, clinging to him as he takes her with gentle thrusts. Gritted teeth and barely contained grunts are met with dulcet mewls as her hands reach for his. His heart aches, truly, at the knowledge that she isn’t meant for this place; his kingdom is nothing but suffering, and she belongs beneath the sun in meadows of flowers. His last thrust is deep, reminds him of the places he dares not tread often, the domains of his brothers, pillow soft clouds and a heaven far above, lost to him.
It’s her consoling him when he fills her to bursting with his seed— delicate arms curling around his head, cradling him against her breasts as she silenced the tears he hadn’t even realized he had shed. He had damned her, yet her soul had not soured; not all flowers withered in the dark.
The endless night is easier on his beloved after the first. She visits with the other souls and comes to him for comfort when the screams and cries in the darkness become too much to bear. She’s less fragile than he had anticipated when she demands he bring her home, and those demands so often end with little else than König taking her into his arms to lead her elsewhere. The underworld can be beautiful too, when seated upon a throne being hand fed by a man that knows little more than to blanket her in as much softness as he can muster. He tells her of the titanomachy, of the white tree, of anything to keep her entertained. His tongue does not shy from telling her that he loves her, too, often met with a shy glance or a soft giggle. Not outright disdain, and for now it feels enough.
She cries often, in longing for her mother and her friends, though never over this love she had never sought herself. Her loneliness only fuels her need for comfort. Selfishly, he believes that he’s saved the night she willingly wraps her arms around him, pulls him close and falls asleep nestled against his chest.
— — —
With the reliance on mortal offerings and Demeter’s anguish having been brought to light with seasons of failed harvests, it was only a matter of time before she was forced away from him. The months without her feel dreadful and empty, but he doesn’t dare disturb her while she walks the earth at her mother’s side. The agreement was beneficial for all of the gods and goddesses, and he knew better than to tread upon it by rushing to her like little more than a pleading dog. When winter took hold, bathing the lands in its icy touch and withering the plants she cherished and freezing over the rivers her nymphs played in, she would return to him as she must.
Each time is different. His beloved is not simply a thoughtless vessel as many of his subordinates. She is the most incredible thing he’s ever had the joy of meeting.
When she returns in tears, calling to him for his comfort he does not hesitate to kiss them all away and remind her that her summers will return and everything above will be just as it was on the day that he brought her below.
Sometimes, she’s angry, jealous even. She asks him often why he doesn’t come to see her while she’s away. He is her husband, after all. Was there anyone else in which he spent his nights with? Someone fairer than even she? The satisfaction of seating her on his cock, satisfying her as she does him on their shared throne far out rivals even ruling the domain itself. He would do anything to prove to her that she was his only; the sole thing he even thought of whilst her mind was filled with new songs and tales from the nymphs she spent her time away with.
Never has she returned with a gift.
Yet, she stumbles back into his realm clutching a small satchel, dripping with the scent of a juice sweet and familiar. A pleasant smile paints her features as she seats herself next to him on the throne. The bench of marble felt far too vast and dreadful to hold someone so delicate, the sight is something he’s grown accustomed to; emptiness is replaced with familiarity seeing her interact with anything here. It may not be home to her, but something in the way she looks to him— as she always had with tenderness, makes him question if a part of her sees him as home.
“I’ve brought something back for you,” she chimes as she pats her thigh.
Each time was different, but it had never been like this before.
He pulls himself to her side before slumping down to rest his head against her, tracing his fingertips along the length of her leg as his gaze drops almost sheepishly.
“Did you?”
She hums in reply, plucking one of the seeds from the satchel before slipping her hand beneath the veil to feed him. His lips part as he takes in the flavor of the aril, the honeyed taste almost akin to the look in her eyes.
“Just like…” She trails off for a moment as she lowers her head to press a kiss to the cheek of his veiled face. The delicate laugh that follows is unlike any he’s heard from her prior, it’s unique, saved solely for him.
“The six that I fed to you?” He asks her quietly, as he pulls himself away from her to meet her eyes directly. The air around them feels thick, loosely charged with a feeling that he can’t quite place; an intensity that he’s never felt before. Any groaning or wailing off in the abyss is silent now, just quiet words spoken.
Things have always felt warmer since her descent, but he’s learned to not expect anything more than she was willing to give. Still, hope cinches his heart tighter than it ever did prior. Even in battle, slaying his father alongside his brothers, he had never felt his heart race the way it does now.
She nods her head, opening up the satchel just wide enough to reveal the other five arils.
“I don’t think that I understand.”
“You should.”
He mulls over that for a moment before the fog finally clears. Any doubt that he had is remedied by a mere two words. He stares at her dumbly, searching her eyes for any hint that this is some horrible, cruel trick; that the implication is something he’s horribly misunderstood.
She couldn’t possibly come to love him… could she?
“To tie you to me,” she says softly.
The smile remains on her face when she closes the distance to kiss him. Not over the veil, but beneath it this time.
Her descent was one of a selfish longing, and his felt as though he was plunging into a world of flowers.
#König x reader#konig x reader#könig x you#konig x you#König#konig#cod fanfiction#konig fanfiction#cod fanfic
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christmas kiss - coriolanus snow.
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.
Summary: A drunken Coriolanus has a particular Christmas gift request of you on Christmas day.
Word Count: 1.3k+.
A/N: Merry Christmas! Just a bit of light-hearted fun. No hidden or dark motives. Technically based within the "You Keep Him There" universe because it was easier to just take the background from there but, it's during their first year together and she's still very much in conflict with her own feelings.
Coriolanus Snow is drunk.
Drunk and clingy.
It’s simultaneously endearing and disturbing. Endearing because you think there is a certain cuteness about him when he’s drunk; disturbing because it makes you think there is a certain cuteness about him and as far as you were concerned, cuteness and Coriolanus simply did not belong in the same sentence together.
It makes you dislike him more - more so, when he insists on squashing himself in between you and the couch’s armrest despite there being room for an entire other body beside you - on the other half of the couch.
Drunk and clingy.
“I think that was a rather successful first Christmas gala, don't you?” he smiles, completely ignoring the fact that he’s half on top of you.
“I suppose,” you grunt, pulling yourself out from under him and standing.
It was time for bed.
“Wait- where are you going?”
He follows you like a lost puppy.
“To bed, Coriolanus,” you tell him stiffly. “It’s almost midnight.”
You don’t wait for his response. Climbing the stairs two at a time, you don’t bother to look back at him or say good night, instead making haste for your bedroom, your safe haven.
You couldn’t do drunk Coriolanus Snow. You didn’t like his vulnerability or sweetness, his wide eyes and handsome smiles, his easy laugh and pink tinged cheeks. There was no room in your heart to like him and that is exactly what drunk Coriolanus could do, make you like him.
You feel yourself immediately calm once you enter your bedroom - thankful that the two of you agreed that the separation of sleeping spaces would be for the better - however, when you turn he’s standing at your door.
When the hell did he get there?
As if he can hear your thoughts, he says, “the elevator is faster than the stairs.”
You make an ‘O’ with your mouth - of course it was. It had just been put in a couple of days ago, you’d completely forgotten that it was there.
“Right, well.” you compose yourself. “Goodnight, Coriolanus.”
“Wait, no-”
His hand blocks your door before you can close it, an exasperated look on his face and you’re sure, on yours too.
“Coriolan-”
A loud groan emanates from deep within his throat - you back away in caution, he better not throw up on your bedroom floor - followed by an exaggerated roll of his eyes.
“Coriolanus, coriolanus,” he mocks, pulling a face. “You know you don’t have to use my full name every time.”
“Fine, Coco,” you smile, saccharinely.
“What? No! What the hell is Coco?”
“What? Yes! You’re what the hell is Coco” you mock him this time. “What do you want, Coco?”
“Don’t call-” he pauses, thinking for a moment “We’ll discuss that name later, right now I want to discuss my Christmas present with you.”
“What?” you almost laugh disbelievingly.
“No. Christmas presents are not up for discussion. I buy you something, you buy me something and either we like it or we don't and if we don’t then we pretend that we do,” you dismiss him and go to close the door again but it's blocked - by his foot this time- again.
“I want you to kiss me.”
This time you do laugh.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” he folds his arms stubbornly. “I don’t want whatever’s wrapped under that god awful green tree downstairs, I want you to-”
“I kiss you all the time,” you snap.
“No, I kiss you all the time. You never kiss me.”
“I kiss you back.”
“But you don't initiate, you never do” he practically whines. You're surprised he doesn’t stomp his foot too.
“And what makes you think I’m going to start now?”
You could, you absolutely could but, why give him the satisfaction?
“Why not? It’s Christmas, spirit of giving and all that and I want you to give-”
“Fine,” you cut him off. Needing him to stop talking so, you could think - cogs turning in your head.
“Fine?”
"Just a kiss, right? That's all?"
"Just a kiss, that's all," he confirms.
It’s not as if you’d never initiated a kiss with him on purpose, you just weren’t in the business of making first moves when it came to him. It didn't bother you to kiss him - you just didn't know if it was something he wanted. It was impossible to tell, not when he acted one way in public, another in private and another… when drunk.
“But, if we’re making Christmas gift requests then you have to ask me sober,” you negotiate.
“What?” his face blanches, as if he’s seen a ghost. “That’s not fair, it’s Christmas now.”
“It’s Christmas now and Boxing Day tomorrow, when presents are actually exchanged so, if you want your kiss, you have to ask me tomorrow-”
He begins to grumble, “Whatever. There’s only five minutes anyway left till Bo-”
“And sober! You will not be sober in five minutes!” you speak over the top of him. “Now… I’m going to bed and so should you.”
You finally close the door.
-
You go about your morning routine as usual, Coriolanus nowhere to be seen- not even as afternoon approached and you readied yourself for lunch with your mother’s side of the family.
Perhaps he’d dug himself a grave and instead, went to bed there, out of embarrassment. You breathe a laugh at the thought.
Gathering your things, your sensible heels click against the marble floors as you make for the front doors - an avox helping you into your coat and then opening the door for you.
You clear the landing - and almost forget about the stairs - when the undeniably alive voice of Coriolanus calls out to you as you finish descending the several steps.
He’s dressed for gardening, having obviously been in the greenhouse with his roses this entire time - not the type of gardening you were hoping he was doing.
“Leaving so soon?”
He looks at you with a lopsided grin, not a hint of hangover in the air - probably a result of one of those little experimental concoctions he’s always working on - as he walks toward you, pulling his gardening gloves off and handing them to a nearby avox.
“Not so soon, it’s midday…” you trail off.
He’s close, too close, he smells like roses and dirt - it makes your stomach flip because of butterflies or because you’ll be sick, you don’t know.
“I believe you owe me something.”
“I thought you wouldn’t have remembered, you were very drunk last night.”
“You thought wrong.”
He smiles handsomely, like one of his drunken ones-
“Are you still drunk?”
He laughs, the sound is stupid.
“No, very much sober as were the conditions.”
"You still need to ask."
"For Christmas," he says slowly. "I want you to kiss me."
“Okay,” you shrug and step closer to him.
You can see the way it confuses him but, you don’t let him dwell on it. Placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself, your breaths intermingle as you bring your lips closer to his. There's a searing heat on the small of your back as he pushes you closer to him - if he presses you any closer, you think the two of you might become one. You brush your nose affectionately against his, feel his heartbeat heavy beneath your hand and at the last minute, you veer to the left and press a kiss to his cheek.
Pulling back quickly, you step out of his reach, leaving him a floundering mess as he comes to terms with what you had just done.
After a minute, he says “that was not the deal!”
Offended and perplexed but, even you can see the hint of a smile on his face.
“It wasn’t not the deal. You said a kiss, you never said where,” you laugh, walking backwards to the car and getting in.
“Details, dear Coco, it’s all in the details!”
You don't hear him laugh but you can see his body shake with it.
-
All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.
Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.
bookofbonbon 2023. All rights reserved.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#coryo snow#coryo x reader#coryo snow x reader#tom blyth
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