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elryuse · 6 days ago

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Post Ceremony Awards

Giselle X Male Reader

Tags : Idol Girlfriend, Kissing, Cowgirl, Lots and lots of Sex, Temptation

Words : 3,2k

This is a Commission for My Friend @dav1233555 on Tumblr. Hope you liked it buddy.

The soft hum of the city outside was drowned out by the faint sound of heels clicking against the marble floor. Giselle’s delicate yet hurried footsteps echoed through the empty hallway as she approached the door, her heart racing with a mix of exhaustion and excitement. The award show had been a whirlwind—flashing cameras, blinding lights, and the constant pressure to smile even when her feet felt like they were about to give out. But now, all she wanted was him.

Y/N.

Her safe haven. Her escape from the chaos of being an idol. She fumbled with the keys for a moment, her hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Finally, the door clicked open, and she stepped inside, greeted by the warm, dim lighting of their shared apartment.

“Y/N?” she called out softly, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness as she kicked off her heels and let them clatter to the floor. There was no immediate response, just the faint sound of sizzling coming from the kitchen. A smile tugged at her lips as she padded toward the source of the noise, her hips swaying ever so slightly in her form-fitting dress.

There he was, standing by the stove, his back turned to her as he stirred something that smelled absolutely divine. His broad shoulders relaxed under the casual shirt he wore, and Giselle couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly handsome he looked, even in such a simple moment. She leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms as she watched him, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Did you miss me?” she purred, her voice dripping with teasing affection.

Y/N turned around, his face lighting up the moment he saw her. “Of course I did,” he said, setting the spoon down and wiping his hands on a towel. “How was the show? You look… stunning, as always.”

Giselle smirked, stepping closer until she was just inches away from him. “It was exhausting,” she admitted, her fingers lightly trailing down his chest. “But seeing you makes it all worth it.”

His breath hitched as her touch sent a shiver through him. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, the intoxicating scent of her perfume enveloping him. Before he could say anything, she closed the distance between them, her lips crashing against his in a kiss that was equal parts desperate and passionate. Y/N’s hands instinctively found her waist, pulling her closer as their tongues danced together, exploring every inch of each other’s mouths.

Giselle moaned softly into the kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed herself against him. The fabric of her dress felt too constricting, too much of a barrier between them. She pulled away just enough to whisper against his lips, “I need you. Now.”

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. In one swift motion, he lifted her off her feet, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the living room. He carefully set her down on the couch, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to undress her, peeling away the layers of designer fabric until she was left in nothing but her lingerie. His gaze darkened with desire as he took in the sight of her, his hands trembling slightly as he traced the curves of her body.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough with need.

Giselle’s cheeks flushed at the compliment, but she didn’t have time to respond before he leaned down to capture her lips once more. His hands roamed over her skin, igniting a fire that burned hotter with every touch. She arched her back as his fingers dipped beneath the lace of her panties, finding her already wet and eager for him.

“Y/N,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he teased her sensitive folds. “Please…”

He didn’t make her beg for long. With a growl of approval, he stripped off his own clothes, his erection springing free as he positioned himself between her thighs. Giselle reached down to guide him inside her, her breath hitching as he slid into her warmth, filling her completely.

They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies melding as if they were made for each other. Giselle’s head fell back against the couch as Y/N’s thrusts grew more frantic, each one sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. She wrapped her legs tighter around him, urging him deeper, harder.

“Fuck, Y/N,” she moaned, her voice breaking as the pressure built inside her. “Don’t stop… please don’t stop…”

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he chased his own release. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, mingling with their muffled cries of pleasure. And then, with one final, powerful thrust, they both came undone, collapsing into each other’s arms as the world around them faded away.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing and the steady rhythm of their hearts beating in sync. Giselle nuzzled against Y/N’s chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin as she basked in the afterglow.

“Let’s stay like this forever,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Y/N chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “As long as you want, princess.”

But just as they were beginning to drift off, the sound of the front door opening jolted them awake. Giselle’s eyes widened as she realized what time it was—the rest of the members must have come home.

“Shit,” she hissed, scrambling to grab her dress and pull it back on. Y/N quickly followed suit, throwing on his clothes just as Karina, Winter, and Ningning walked into the living room.

Their eyes immediately zeroed in on the disheveled state of the couch—and the unmistakable flush on Giselle’s cheeks.

“What were you two doing?” Winter asked, her tone laced with amusement as she raised an eyebrow.

Giselle laughed nervously, trying to play it cool. “Nothing! Just… catching up after the show.”

Karina and Ningning exchanged knowing glances, clearly not buying it, but they didn’t push further. Instead, they plopped down on the other side of the couch, stealing bites of the food Y/N had prepared earlier.

As they ate and chatted, Giselle leaned back against Y/N’s chest, feeling more content than she had in weeks. Despite the chaos of her life, moments like this made everything worth it.

But deep down, she knew this wasn’t the end. Not even close.

And as she glanced up at Y/N, a sly smile playing on her lips, she wondered just how far they could take things…

Giselle’s fingers traced lazy circles on Y/N’s thigh under the table as the other members chatted animatedly about the award show. Winter was recounting a particularly funny moment backstage, her laughter echoing through the room, while Karina and Ningning were fully immersed in their video game, controllers clicking furiously.

But Giselle couldn’t focus on any of it. Her mind was still replaying the way Y/N had touched her earlier, the way his hands had lingered on her skin, possessive yet tender. She glanced at him from under her lashes, her lips curving into a mischievous smile.

He knew exactly what she wanted.

“Hey,” she whispered, leaning closer to him, her breath warm against his ear. “I think I left something upstairs… come help me find it?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly catching her drift. He glanced around the room—the girls were too preoccupied to notice anything amiss. Without a word, he nodded, standing up casually.

“Be right back,” he said, though no one was really paying attention.

Giselle followed him up the stairs, her heels clicking softly against the wooden steps. The moment they reached the hallway, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind them.

The air between them crackled with tension as she turned to face him, her back pressed against the door. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting slightly as she tilted her head up to meet his gaze.

“You owe me,” she murmured, her voice dripping with promise. “From earlier.”

Y/N didn’t need any more encouragement. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them in one swift motion. His hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him as his lips crashed onto hers. The kiss was hungry, desperate, filled with all the pent-up frustration they’d been holding back downstairs.

Giselle moaned softly into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, and it sent a jolt of heat straight to her core.

“Fuck me,” she breathed when they finally broke apart, her chest heaving. “Right now.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. He spun her around, pinning her against the door as his hands slid down her body, gripping her hips tightly. His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses that made her gasp.

“Quiet,” he warned, his voice low and rough. “Unless you want them to hear.”

Giselle bit her lip, nodding as she reached behind her to undo the clasp of her dress. It fell to the floor in a pool of silk, leaving her in nothing but her lingerie. Y/N’s eyes raked over her body, and she could see the hunger in his gaze.

“Take it off,” she demanded, her voice trembling with anticipation.

He obeyed, his hands trembling slightly as he unhooked her bra and slipped off her panties. She stepped out of them, completely bare before him, and the look in his eyes made her shiver.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he muttered, his hands roaming over her curves, savoring every inch of her.

Giselle reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle as impatience gnawed at her. She needed him inside her, now. When she finally freed him from his pants, she gasped at the size of him, her body already aching with need.

“Hurry,” she whispered, turning around and bracing herself against the door.

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. He lined himself up with her entrance, his hands gripping her hips as he pushed into her slowly, letting her adjust to him. Giselle’s nails dug into the wood of the door as she let out a stifled moan, her body trembling with pleasure.

“Don’t hold back,” she breathed, pushing back against him. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Y/N gripped her hips tighter, thrusting into her with a force that made her cry out. Each movement was deep, deliberate, hitting all the right spots as her moans grew louder, more unrestrained.

“Shh,” he reminded her, though his own breathing was ragged, his self-control slipping.

But Giselle couldn’t help it. The pleasure was overwhelming, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through her body. She bit down on her hand to muffle her cries, but they still escaped, soft and breathy, filling the room.

Downstairs, Karina paused mid-game, glancing up at the ceiling. “Do you guys hear that?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

Ningning tilted her head, listening. “Sounds like… I don’t know. A cat or something?”

Winter snorted. “In this apartment? Doubt it.”

Karina shrugged, returning to the game. “Probably just the neighbors.”

Upstairs, Giselle was far past caring. She rocked back against Y/N, matching his rhythm as their bodies moved together in perfect sync. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their gasps and moans.

“Harder,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Y/N obliged, his thrusts becoming rougher, more urgent. He leaned over her, his chest pressed against her back as his lips found her shoulder, biting down lightly. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she arched her back, pushing herself further onto him.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice strained.

Giselle smiled to herself, reveling in the way he was falling apart for her. She reached back, tangling her fingers in his hair as she guided him closer, urging him on.

“I’m close,” she whispered, her walls tightening around him. “So close…”

Y/N kissed her neck, his breathing uneven. “Come for me,” he urged, his voice thick with desire.

And she did. Pleasure ripped through her body like a tidal wave, her vision going white as she cried out, muffling the sound in her hand. Y/N wasn’t far behind, his thrusts growing erratic as he buried himself deep inside her, spilling himself with a groan.

For a moment, they stayed like that, their bodies pressed together, both trembling from the intensity of it all. Then Y/N pulled away slowly, helping her turn around to face him.

Giselle looked up at him, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from kissing. She reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead as she smiled.

“You’re amazing,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Y/N chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

They stayed there for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow, until the sound of laughter from downstairs brought them back to reality.

“We should probably get dressed,” Y/N said reluctantly, though his hands still lingered on her waist.

Giselle pouted playfully. “Do we have to?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Unless you want to explain why we’re naked when they inevitably come looking for us.”

She sighed, stepping away from him to retrieve her dress. As they got dressed, she couldn’t help but glance at him, a sly smile playing on her lips.

“You know,” she said, smoothing out her dress, “we could always sneak back up here later…”

Y/N smirked, pulling her into his arms once more. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Giselle giggled, leaning up to kiss him again. “Maybe.”

The soft hum of conversation and clinking silverware filled the apartment as the group gathered around the dining table. Y/N had outdone himself with the meal—sizzling bulgogi, steaming kimchi jjigae, and perfectly seasoned japchae adorned the table. The aroma wafted through the air, mingling with the lingering tension that seemed to hang just beneath the surface. Giselle sat close to Y/N, her fingers occasionally brushing his under the table, a secret smile playing on her lips whenever their eyes met.

Karina was the first to break the casual chatter. She leaned forward, her chopsticks hovering over her plate, her sharp gaze darting between Giselle and Y/N. “So… how long have you two been sneaking around?” she asked, her tone light but laced with suspicion.

Giselle froze mid-bite, her eyes widening for a split second before she recovered, her lips curling into an amused smirk. She set her chopsticks down deliberately, leaning back in her chair. “Sneaking around? Who said anything about sneaking?”

Winter snorted, rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on, Giselle. We’re not blind. You’ve been glowing like a neon sign since we got home. And don’t think we didn’t notice how long it took you two to ‘help clean up’ earlier.”

Ningning giggled into her hand, clearly enjoying the sudden shift in the room’s energy. “Yeah, and let’s not forget the very loud thud against the bedroom door. What were you doing, redecorating?”

Y/N felt his cheeks burn, but Giselle remained unfazed. She tilted her head, her expression turning almost predatory as she glanced at the others. “Well, if you’re so curious, why don’t you just ask? I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind sharing… details,” she purred, her voice dripping with mischief.

The table fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. Karina’s jaw dropped slightly, while Winter’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. Ningning choked on her sip of water, coughing loudly as she tried to regain her composure.

“Sharing?” Karina finally managed, her voice higher-pitched than usual. “You mean… you’d actually… share him?”

Giselle shrugged lazily, reaching for her glass of wine. “I mean, if the offer’s tempting enough, I might consider it.” She took a slow sip, her eyes never leaving Karina’s. “But let’s be real—you’d have to give me a damn good reason. And maybe throw in a bet or two. I’m not giving him away for free.”

Y/N nearly choked on his food, coughing loudly as he tried to process what he’d just heard. He turned to Giselle, his brows furrowed in disbelief. “Uh… excuse me? Am I a prize now?”

She reached over, patting his cheek affectionately. “Of course not, baby. You’re my prize. But if they want a taste…” She trailed off, her grin widening as she looked back at the others. “Well, let’s just say they’ll have to work for it.”

Winter leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, her gaze locked on Giselle. “What kind of bet are we talking about here?”

Giselle tapped her chin thoughtfully, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hmm… how about this? Whoever wins the next round of whatever game we decide gets to spend some… quality time with Y/N. Nothing too crazy, of course. Just enough to make it interesting.”

Ningning let out a squeak, her face turning bright red. “Giselle! You can’t be serious!”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” Giselle replied, her tone unwavering. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “But hey, if you’re not up for it, no hard feelings. More for me.”

Karina’s eyes narrowed, a competitive glint flashing in them. “Fine. Let’s do it. Winner takes all.”

Winter smirked, nodding in agreement. “You’re on. But don’t cry when I win.”

Ningning hesitated for a moment before raising her hand tentatively. “Um… can I sit this one out? This feels… weird.”

Giselle chuckled, shaking her head. “Nope. You’re in this now, Ning. No backing out.”

Y/N stared at the scene unfolding before him, feeling both flustered and oddly intrigued. He cleared his throat, trying to interject. “Uh, shouldn’t I have a say in this?”

All four pairs of eyes turned to him, and Giselle grinned wickedly. “Don’t worry, babe. You’ll love it. Trust me.”

Before he could respond, Karina stood up, slamming her hands on the table. “Alright, enough talk. Let’s play. But I’m warning you, Giselle—I’m not losing.”

Giselle’s grin widened, her confidence unshaken. “We’ll see about that.”

The group quickly cleared the table, moving to the living room where they decided on a game of truth or dare—with a twist. Each dare would be designed to push boundaries, and every truth would dig deep into secrets none of them had dared to share before.

As the game began, the tension in the room grew thicker, the air electric with anticipation. Y/N found himself caught in the middle, his heart racing as he watched the girls strategize and flirt openly, their competitive sides taking over.

When it was Winter’s turn, she spun the bottle, and it landed squarely on Y/N. Her lips curled into a sly smile as she leaned forward. “Truth or dare?” she asked, her voice low and sultry.

Y/N swallowed hard, glancing at Giselle, who simply raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to choose. “Uh… dare?”

Winter’s smile widened. “Good choice. I dare you to kiss the person you find most attractive in this room… besides Giselle.”

The room went silent, and Y/N’s eyes darted between Karina, Winter, and Ningning, his pulse quickening. He could feel Giselle’s gaze on him, watching intently, waiting to see how he’d handle the situation.

He took a deep breath, his mind racing. The stakes were high, and the tension was palpable. As he moved closer to make his choice, the sound of Giselle’s voice cut through the silence, smooth and commanding.

“Careful, Y/N. Choose wisely…”

- To Be Continued -

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #update #Giselle aespa #giselle aespa #aespa #aeri uchinaga #aeri uchinaga aespa #aespa smut #giselle smut #beautiful #apreciation post #kpop smut

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mildmayfoxe · 3 months ago

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would it be super lame to get the red and black riso instead of letterpress. even though the letterpress would be soooo sexy. the people have spoken and they like the red and black the best

which of these pigs do you guys like. and or should i go in a different direction with the pigs

#i almost feel like if it's not gonna be letterpress it should be a flour sack towel. you know what i mean #primo kitchen towel design imo #i could pick a nice cream paper from the riso people it might not all be a loss... even though it was designed with letterpress in mind...#a nice heavy off-white. you know. it won't give me the strong impressions of a PRESS but it could still be ok............#chatpost

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windupsproutdesigngallery · 2 years ago

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Custom Kitchen Towels: Citrus Fruits, Tulip Flower, Rose, Pink Flamingo, Easter Bunny, Heart, Nautical, etc. | Unique Kitchen Dish Towel Gifts for Wedding, Valentine's Day, Easter, Mother's Day, Christmas, Birthday, or Any Other Special Occasions!

#kitchen #gifts #kitchen gifts #kitchen towel #kitchen towels #kitchen decor #dish towels #gift ideas #easter gifts #pink flamingos #tulip flower #floral #floral design #zazzle #zazzle store

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sturniqlo · 3 days ago

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COMFORT- SHY!MATT x SHY!READER

summary- matt loves how comfortable darling is around him, it turns him on at certain times (matt being a whole different person in bed.. yum)

cw: SMUT; dom(ish)!matt, p in v, making out, nipple play, oral!f receiving, creampie, FLUFF

an: thank you to this anon (also, this is my first ever shy!matt x darling smut fic, p.s i know the pajama bottoms are actually shorts but pretend they're underwear)

masterlist | shy!matt x shy!reader | join my taglist

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it was that point in their relationship where darling was getting very comfortable around matt-and vice versa-, not that she wasn't ever comfortable around him, just comfortable in a different light. she started doing things around him that she would only do when she was alone. one of those things is walk around in her underwear or bra.

"i'm gonna shower really quick." she said with her clothes and towel in hand. "okay, i'll be here." matt smiles as he sits against her headboard her fluffy blanket over his lap. matt being matt, puckers his lips signaling he wants a kiss. darling doesn't think anything of it, in all honestly she loves when he does that, it's because normal for them.

she even catches herself doing it sometimes. "mwah!" she intentionally says as she plants a kiss onto his lips, she can still taste the faint sherbet ice cream they shared. "don't take long, i'll miss you." he teases, squeezing her hip gently. "i'll try not to." she pecks his lips this time before making her way to the bathroom out in the hall.

as matt waited for her, scrolling through her streaming services on her tv, he got up and went down to the kitchen to get a snack. darling's parents were currently out on a camping trip since it was their anniversary weekend. with their permission, matt was able to come and stay over. they trusted matt and darling as they were once young and in love.

he opened the fridge grabbing two cold water bottles as he noticed her water bottle was almost empty. placing both of them on the island counter, matt opened the pantry and scanned the shelves. he saw the half eaten tray of her dad's strawberry danish and held back from grabbing a piece. her dad was serious about his danishes.

opting for some chips and a bit of chocolate chip cookies, he made his way back upstairs into her bedroom. as matt passed the bathroom, he heard the running water and her slight humming to the song she played on low volume.

matt returned back to the room and dug into the snacks he had brought up. still continuing to scroll through the streaming services, he didn't choose anything because he wanted to wait for darling and see what she would want to watch.

he looked around her room noticing small details that she had added. a new sonny angel hipper was added to the back of her flatscreen tv, the calendar matt had gifted her with pictures of them was hung up on her closet door, and a new pair of shoes was added to her shoe rack. he noticed every little detail.

it was about fifteen minutes later when darling walked through the door, her hair up in her designated hair towel. when matt realized what she was wearing, his breath hitched. she wore a white teddy bear tank paired with matching teddy bear boxer like underwear.

she had just started doing this around matt, walking around in her underwear. he cleared his throat as he caught himself watching her as she went into her closet to put her dirty clothes into her hamper. "find something to watch?" she said in a soft tone as she sat in her vanity across the room, watching him through the mirror as she combed her hair. "huh- oh- uh, no. i was uh- i was waiting for you. see what you wanted to watch."

she didn't realize his now worked up state. "you can put modern family back on." darling did her skincare, and lathered herself in her sweet scented lotion that drove matt crazy. he went to hulu to put the show, but he kept glancing back at darling who stood up to lather her legs.

the ends of her underwear rode up slightly and exposed the bottom of her ass cheeks. "shit." he muttered under his breath, shifting in the bed putting the blanket back over his lap. darling came closer to the bed and smiled at matt. "i feel so clean." she giggled, sitting on top of the blanket. "baby, are you not hot?" her dad had cranked up the heater before he left and it was really warm in the house.

"no- no, not really." he nervously chuckled, her scent engulfed his sense of smell. he looked down to play with his fingers, but caught eye of her plump thighs. "well i am. it's like ninety degrees in here." she fanned her tank top. matt stared at her and noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra either.

they were a couple of episodes in and darling ended up laying on her belly towards the end of the bed, which was the worst decision in matt's eyes. the curve of her ass was taunting him. the way it jiggled when she laughed or made a slight movement to get comfy, and the way her underwear rode up more.

darling didn't do it intentionally, in all honesty the thought of matt being worked up didn't cross her mind. she soon sat up and scooted to matt. "i'm bored." she told him, kneeling next to him running a hand through his hair. "what do you wanna do?" he said, his eyes raking up to her eyes and down to her lips.

"are you sure you're okay? you look pretty flustered." she furrows her eyebrows. "baby-" she gasped. "are you.. hard?" he groaned. "darling.. you're- you just look so good." she blushed at his words. "why didn't you tell me? i could've helped you all this time." she moved the blanket off of him and straddled his lap. matt was never one to just ask for sex- he was too shy to do so, he would give her little touches here and there or just stare at her.

"you know why." his hands came to rest on the silver of her skin where her tank top rode up. her hips slowly rolled against his. "baby." his threw his head slightly back. darling took the opportunity to kiss against his neck. matt got hold of her chin and connected their lips in a hungry kiss. "such a tease, hm? wearing your tiny panties around me." his finger dipped into the waistband of her underwear and let it slap against her skin. "mmph!" she whined against his lips.

"can i?" he pulled away from her, their lips red and swollen, his hands slipped under her tank top, looking up at her with pleading eyes. "please- yes." she nodded- she was now as equally as needy as him. matt wasted no time in taking her shirt off. her full, round tits on display for him. "so pretty, darling. so fucking pretty." he growled, taking her right tit into his mouth. his wet, pink tongue swirled around her nipple as he stared up at her, her eyes closed in pleasure.

"matt, oh- shit." her back arched, furthering herself more into matt. "love your tits, babe." he popped off of her nipple, moving onto the left one as his hand came up to knead the one he had in his mouth before.

after some time, he began to trail kisses around her chest up to her collarbone, up her neck eventually making it back to her lips. "lay on the bed f'me. c'mon." he patted the side of her thigh. darling came off of his thigh and laid next to him. matt hovered over her, pressing a few kisses to her neck. his kisses trailed down her body until he reached the hem of her underwear. "matt- please." she looked down at him.

"patience, darling." matt continued to press teasing kisses along her underwear. a wet patch began to form on her panties. "wet already?" he smirked, his finger prodding at the patch. "mhm- so wet for you." she rolled her hips wanting more. after pressing a kiss to her wetness, he hooked his fingers into the fabric and pulled them down. "lift up f'me." she lifted her hips so he'd be able to pull them down her legs.

he tossed the underwater somewhere on the bed, putting her legs over his shoulders. "look at that. pussys so pretty." matt was face to face with her glistening folds that we're aching to be touched. darling shivered when his breath fanned against her wetness.

pressing kisses along her inner thighs, so very close to her core, matt licked and nipped until she was a squirming wanted to be licked where she needed it most. "please, stop- stop teasing." she whined, gripped his hair to try and guide him to her pussy. "am i being mean, hm?" his tongue made very small contact, but quickly pulled away.

matt thought he had teased enough and dipped his tongue into her hole, licking a stripe up to her clit. "oh- yes!" she smiled at the feeling of his warm tongue on her. "so good, darling. taste so good." he lapped up her arousal. sucking on her lips, her back arched at the sensation- the suction around her lips and the vibrations of his muffled moans.

"just like that- fuck!" her hands fisted at the bed sheets as she didn't want to hurt matt's scalp. darlings moans and pants filled the room, her constant whines when matt would pull away for a split second. matt's hands trailed up her body as she continued to eat her out. his fingertips found her tits and he rolled her nipples in between his thumb and forefinger.

he soon pulled away due to the ache in his pants becoming too much. "baby, please let me- let me fuck you." he mumbled as he kissed up her body. he sucked a few marks onto her neck. darlings hands creeped into his hair. "mhm, yes. i want you in me." she whispered into his ear, his hips rolled against her. "yeah?" he bit down on her neck. "so bad, please." she held the sides of his face and stared at him. matt broke into a smug smile, leaning down to press their lips together.

as their lips and tongue clashed together, matt pulled down both his pants and underwear throwing them somewhere. he stroked his hard cock a couple of times, pulling away from the kiss. darling looked down to where his cock was and saw the red leaking tip, her pussy clenched around nothing. "ready f'me?" he said, slapping his dick against her clit. "yes, i'm ready." she nodded, biting her bottom lip.

matt lined his tip up with her wet hole and slowly pushed into her. darling moaned feeling the familiar stretch of matt's cock. "so tight." matt's jaw slacked at her warm walls squeezing him. once he bottomed out, he waited a few moments until she was ready for him to move.

"you can- you can move." she nodded, grabbing onto his shoulders. matt pushed out before thrusting back in making them both moan at the same time. "yes, just like that. faster, baby." darling whined. he accepted her wishes and picked up the speed.

the wet noises, along with their moans, now filled the air in her room. the occasional bang of the headboard against the wall was covered by the lewd noises. "feel you squeezing my cock, darling." he kissed just below her ear. "it's so good, matt. don't stop." her moans continued.

minutes later, matt pulled out causing her to whimper at the loss of contact. "matt- what- what are you doing." her glossy eyes looked up at him. "shh, it's okay, pretty." he pressed a kiss to her lips. "want you to flip over f'me. hands and knees, yeah?" matt knew that her being on all fours made it feel better and deeper for her. she nodded, her damp hair from her shower and the slight sweat made the baby hairs stick along her hairline.

matt got on his knees to give her space to flip over. once she was situated, matt got behind her and caressed the soft and plump skin of her ass. his hand grabbed his dick and ran it up and down her puffy, wet folds. "oh- matt." she arched her back as he circled his tip against her hole. matt didn't ram himself in, but he certainly didn't hold back. her high pitched moans and whimpers began again. only this time they were louder due to the new position and angle.

"f-fuck, you're so deep." she mumbled against the bed sheets. her once hands and knees position turned into her being face down ass up. "yeah? feel me so deep inside of your tummy, babe." his hands came to the side of her ass, holding her as he went in and out of her. "so fucking deep." she repeated.

darling felt the familiar pressure building up in her lower belly, so she began backing her ass into him. matt groaned when he realized what she was doing. "you close, hm?" he groaned, his right hand on her ass and the other on the back of her neck. "yes- yes, so close. don't stop." she cried, wanting her release.

"cum for me. cum all over my dick." matt began to do long, deep strokes. "shit- just like that." the movement in his thrusts brought her more to the edge. her fingers curled into the pillow as she mewled. "i'm- fuck, i'm cumming!" her legs trembled as she released. "that's it, baby. all over my dick, mhm." he thrusted a couple of more times before he felt the familiar sensation.

"babe- i'm close." he gently brought her up to where her back was pressed up against his chest. "cum in me. want all of it, plea- please." she cried, her hand coming behind his head as he nipped at her neck. "oh- shit." his cock twitched inside of her as he came. matt kept messily thrusting against her as he rode his high.

once she started to whine, he stopped as he knew that she had become sensitive. "it's okay, i've got you." he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. slowly and carefully he laid her back down, still staying inside of her. "is it okay if i pull out? need to clean you up." she nodded. slowly, he pulled out watching as his cum leaked out of her. matt held back a groan at the sight.

"i'll be back, gonna get some tissue."

when matt finished cleaning her up, they showered together. "baby, c'mere. wanna braid your hair." matt patted his lap. "really? think you got it?" she teased. "i definitely improved since last time." darling sat in between his legs as he worked with her hair. "so it's right over left- no, no. right over left." he muttered to himself.

although he had to restart a couple of times, he finally finished it. matt took a picture and showed her. "alright, what do you think of my masterpiece?" he handed her his phone and wrapped his arms around her waist bringing her into his chest. "it's definitely something, i'll tell you that." she giggled. some parts were pretty loose and in some her hair was sticking out. "hey, i thought i did pretty good." he pouted, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"just gotta keep on practicing." she turned around and booped his nose.

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trickphotography2 · 1 month ago

Text

Rooster wasn't for you. You were opposites in so many ways - he was an extrovert to your introvert. The center of attention to your wallflower. You weren't interested in a one night stand, and he couldn't offer more. So his volunteering to help with Friendsgiving was just a friendly gesture after you returned from a deployment...right?

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“Just a minute!” you called, swiping a strand of hair from your face. The knocking stopped, and you quickly washed the flour from your hands, drying them on the towel thrown over your shoulder while heading to the door.

And there, standing on your front step as the sun started to rise, was Bradley. His normally styled curls were sleep-mussed, his grey t-shirt clinging to his arms and untucked from his Navy PT sweatpants. The smile on his face grew as he took you in - sweatpants, a baggy sweatshirt dotted with flour, fuzzy socks, and not a stitch of makeup. The difference from your normally put-together appearance was stark. “Morning, Duch.”

“You’re late.” Laughing, he held up a bag of microwavable frozen corn.

“Had to turn around when I forgot my contribution.” Rolling your eyes, you stepped back to let him in, watching to ensure he removed his shoes before following you into the kitchen.

“The turkey’s already thawed and in the sink. I just need you to clean it out, and I can take it from there.” Bradley nodded, tossing you the corn before going to the kitchen. You put it in the freezer and walked to the downstairs bathroom to wash your hands before resuming your spot at the counter, picking up your bread lame and staring at the unbaked loaf. A part of you wanted to do a simple score, knowing that it would just be eaten, but the hostess in you demanded a more intricate design. The indecision tore at you. To buy time, you sprinkled the top with more rice flour.

“Can you get me the trashcan?” Bradley asked, and you nodded, quickly abandoning your project. After you set it beside him and pulled off the cover, he tossed the netting and plastic. You couldn’t help but notice his biceps flex as he shifted the turkey. But you shrunk back when he reached into the cavity and pulled out the giblets and gravy package, shaking your head at his raised eyebrow. He discarded them as you braced yourself, nose scrunching when he removed the neck. “You alright there, Duch?” he teased.

“Gross.”

“It’s just a turkey neck,” he said, holding it closer to you. You jumped back.

“I will throat punch you if you touch me with that.” He laughed, edging it closer, and you raised a fist. There was a reason a condition of you hosting everyone for Friendsgiving was someone else cleaning the turkey.

“Didn’t take you for being squeamish.”

“You would be, too, if your grandpa chased you around the house with it when you were a kid, and you had to lock yourself in a bathroom to escape.” At his barked laugh, you shook your head. “I told that to my ex, and he thought it was funny to put it in his zipper and chase me around the house with it. If floppy dick isn’t attractive, a turkey neck sure as shit isn’t.”

Bradley choked on a laugh. For as prim and proper as you were at times - hence the callsign Duchess - you sometimes reminded everyone that you also had a military sense of humor. “Maybe you just haven’t seen the right ‘floppy dick,’” he smirked, dropping the neck into the trash.

Shrugging, you glanced away from him when the oven beeped, alerting that it was preheated. “You’re right. Bob probably has a pretty one.” A rosy flush crept up his cheeks as he turned back to the turkey and forced a laugh. Bradley didn’t want to hear that you were thinking about Bob’s dick. “Put it in this afterward, and I’ll dry it.” After dropping the roasting pan beside him, you rewashed your hands.

Standing in front of your bread, you bit your lip to keep from giggling as you contemplated scoring a dick into the dough but decided to go with a traditional wheat stalk. To your surprise, he grabbed the roll of paper towels by the sink and patted the turkey dry, even the cavity. As you removed the Dutch oven from the preheated oven, he tied up the trash bag and took it out. After putting the bread into the oven, you set the timer and moved to the sink, glancing at Bradley when he came back in. Standing beside you, he reached for the soap and lowered the water temperature before scrubbing his hands. Removing the hand towel from your shoulder, you draped it over his after drying your hands. “Thanks,” he murmured.

“Thanks for taking care of the turkey.” Standing by the island, you crouched to retrieve a cutting board. The sound of other cabinets closing made you peek over the countertop to see him rooting through the overhead storage. “Are you looking for something?”

“Coffee mugs.” Biting back a retort about making himself comfortable, you pointed to the right of the stove. You bit your tongue when he grabbed two mugs - including your favorite - and went to the wet bar where the full pot was finished brewing. Placing the cutting board on the counter, you grabbed a knife from the block and were surprised to see a mug of coffee beside your workstation. Murmuring your thanks, you grabbed the creamer from the fridge along with packages of herbs and butter. “What are you making?” Bradley asked.

“A marinade since I didn’t brine the turkey.”

“You want a hand?”

“I’ve got it,” you said automatically. “I’ve got a schedule.” He didn’t need to know that you were already behind after falling asleep on the couch early last night and forgetting to set your alarm. And he definitely didn’t need to know that you’d only been awake for 20 minutes before he arrived. If you put your head down and focused, everything would still be ready to eat at the agreed-upon 3:00 PM. Some of your time to get yourself ready would just have to be sacrificed. For some reason, you’d insisted that everyone dress nicely for Friendsgiving. Wearing a uniform almost every day didn’t give you any opportunities to dress up, and sometimes it felt nice to wear something other than jeans and a t-shirt.

Setting your tablet up, you navigated through the bookmarked recipes and rinsed the herbs before pulling them from the stems. Bradley leaned against the counter beside you and sipped his coffee while glancing around the kitchen. Seeing him relaxing there, one leg crossed over the other and looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, made something flutter in your chest.

“You know, you could have saved a lot of time if you’d just agreed to let Hangman fry the turkey.”

That made you snort. “I just finished my renovations - the last thing I want is for my house to burn down.” It had taken months to get your home exactly how you wanted it. After twelve years in the Navy, you were ready to put down some roots, and buying a home had seemed like the smart thing to do. Living in a construction zone for the last year hadn’t been fun, but a well-timed deployment meant you weren’t there for the worst of it. The results were worth the pain, and you’d jumped at the chance to host when you got back and realized most of the squad had no plans for Thanksgiving. You couldn’t wait for them to see the changes in the Craftsman that had been a definite fixer-upper when you purchased it. The kitchen had been completely gutted and replaced with double ovens and quartz countertops, and the smaller kitchen island had been moved and changed to a wet bar with a wine fridge, replaced with an oversized one. The popcorn texture was scraped from the ceiling throughout the house, the floors redone, and the walls painted. The primary bath had been updated with a large soaker tub and walk-in shower, and you loved the giant closet. The guest bathrooms still needed work, as did the yard, but those were projects for later.

“It looks good, Duch,” he said softly, gaze holding yours for a long moment. You felt those inconvenient butterflies again and shoved them aside, dropping your eyes to the cutting board. Bradley wasn’t for you. You were too different - he enjoyed nights out at the bar, while you liked to spend time at home. He liked being the center of attention while you preferred to blend into the background. Besides, he didn’t seem much like a relationship guy, given the number of flings he had at the Hard Deck, while the idea of casual dating gave you hives. Pushing away from the counter, Bradley reached under the sink for a trashbag, putting it into the can before washing his hands. He moved closer, nose twitching slightly at the scent of rosemary, and braced his big hands on the countertop beside you. “Alright, what can I do?”

“You don’t - ”

“Lemme help.” His eyes met yours, smiling when you sighed.

“Fine. The meat injector is in here,” you said, bumping one of the drawer handles with your hip. “And I’ll need the chicken stock from the pantry.” Pouring the stock, herbs, and a couple of sticks of butter into a stockpan, you handed Bradley a silicone spatula and told him to stir. You rolled your lips together to keep from smiling when he pulled his phone from his pocket and watched videos of turkey injections before declaring he would be in charge of it. Reluctantly, you agreed. Once the marinade had cooled, the bird was given a second drying, you had finished the coffee, and Bradley had rewatched the video three times, it was time. He studied the turkey through narrowed eyes as you tried not to laugh. “You want to - ”

“Ah!”

“The breast and thighs - ”

“I’m doing it, Duch,” he cut you off.

“Well, remember that if it turns out dry.” The unimpressed look Bradley shot you made you grin as you put your chin in your hand and motioned for him to proceed. The tip of his tongue poked through his lips as he filled the injector and hovered the needle over the turkey. His eyes darted to you, and you raised an eyebrow. “You can tap out at any time, Rooster.” Instead of replying, he pierced the meat and pushed down on the plunger. You couldn’t help but laugh when he yelped, marinade spraying in his face after pushing too hard. But when he reached to wipe it away, you caught his hands. “Don’t put turkey germs all over your face,” you scoffed, towing him toward the sink. You held his chin while cleaning his face with wet paper towels.

“Now you’re just messing with me,” he chuckled when you scrubbed his mustache, but he didn’t pull away. His breath was hot on your hand, and his smile soft when you reached up to dab away a speck of garlic in his eyebrow. Balling up the paper towel, you shook your head.

“Wash your face with soap to make sure you don’t get salmonella. Cyclone’ll kill me if you’re out with food poisoning.” Turning on the water, you ensured it was warm before getting a clean washcloth. The oven timer beeped as you dug through the linen closet, and you hurried back into the kitchen, throwing the towel on the sink beside him and grabbing the pot holders to take out your bread. Once it was on the wire rack to cool, you moved to the turkey.

“What’re you doing?” Bradley demanded, turning while drying his face.

“Taking over.” You gasped when he closed the space between you in a few strides, wrapped his arm around your waist, and lifted you away from the counter. “Bradshaw! What the hell?”

“Told you I’m doing it,” he chuckled in your ear. Once back on your feet, you spun in his hold and stared at him. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his cocky smirk.

“Fine, but if you waste more of my marinade, you’re out of my kitchen.”

“Deal.”

Thankfully, there were no further incidents, but you kept a close eye on him while slicing up a loaf of bread you’d baked two days before and let go stale for stuffing. After covering the roasting tray with tin foil, the bird went back into the fridge to rest for a few hours. “Thanks, Rooster. I guess I’ll see you later?”

“What else can I do?”

“You don’t - ”

“I want to help. I haven’t…” his eyes dropped to the floor as he shrugged. “I never got to do this before. My mom and I would always go to my cousin’s for Thanksgiving before she died, and it always seemed kinda fun.”

Everyone on the squad knew that Bradley’s parents had passed when he was young. He didn’t mention them often, but you noticed he’d get quiet sometimes when people talked about their families. So his volunteering the information felt important, and glancing at the clock showed that you were still behind schedule. “Fine.”

“Yeah?” he asked, excitement flashing in his eyes.

“Don’t look so happy - you’re doing prep work. You can peel potatoes, assemble the veggie tray, and roast the garlic. I need to work on sides and desserts.”

And he did. Bradley followed your instructions, grimacing while peeling potatoes over the trash can until you took out a plastic bag and put it in the sink for him to do it there. You kept an eye on him as he cut the spuds into uniform pieces after explaining that they wouldn’t cook evenly for the mashed potatoes, somewhat worried that he would cut himself. Rather than deal with the onions, you delegated the task and tried not to laugh at his near-constant sniffles and swipes at his watery eyes as you diced peppers. Once you dug out the hand-me-down crystal platters, he arranged the veggies you’d prepped the night before while making pies. Dips were mixed, and cans of olives and bottles of pickles were opened and drained before being plated.

Other than bumping into one another when going for the fridge at the same time, it wasn’t too bad sharing the kitchen. The coffee pot was quickly emptied, and Bradley brewed another between shredding blocks of cheese. You sang along with your playlists, his deep voice joining on a few songs while teasing you about others. When you sang about karma being a kink, he watched your hips sway at the sink, clenching his jaw when you sang a breathy ‘oh god.’

He slid the roasting tray into the oven when the turkey was rested and ready to cook. “Now what?” he asked, turning to look at you.

“Now we keep an eye on it for about four hours. Baste and re-inject it every hour or so,” you shrugged. A glance at his watch showed it would be almost 2:00 PM by the time it was ready. As though realizing it would still be hours before eating, his stomach grumbled its discontent. He blushed when you smirked. “I guess the least I can do is make my sous chef breakfast. Get the muffins and butter from the fridge for me.”

“Did you make these?” he asked, setting the containers beside you as you heated a skillet on the stove.

“I did - family tradition is grilled muffins on Thanksgiving morning. You okay with blueberry?” At his nod, you started slicing muffins in half. Rather than giving you space, Bradley stayed at your elbow. A comfortable silence fell, broken only by sizzling butter. His gaze met yours when you glanced up at him, and a smile tugged at his mouth.

An image of reaching up to bury your fingers in his messy curls and tugging his mouth down to meet yours flashed through your mind. Your fingers twitched with the urge to do it, eyes drifting to his mouth and lingering there for a moment too long. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you forced yourself to look away, heat creeping into your face.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when he reached up to shift a strand of hair that had fallen from your messy bun. “I’m glad you're back, Duch,” he said, voice slightly raspy.

Forcing a laugh, you plated two muffins and handed them to him. “Everyone misses the mom friend of the group when she’s deployed.” Your eyes darted to his stomach when it growled again, just in time to see the front of his sweats twitch. Pretending you didn’t see it, you nodded to the living room. “The parade is recording if you want to watch it.”

Bradley opened his mouth as though he would say something before taking the apparent dismissal. Alone in the kitchen, you touched your cheek and felt warm skin. With a deep breath, you grilled yourself a muffin as the sound of the broadcasters came from the living room. After topping up your coffee, you joined him. He sprawled on one end of the couch, plate balanced on a thigh as he sipped his coffee. Sitting on the opposite side, you crossed your legs and let out a soft groan. Only a couple of hours standing in the kitchen and your back was already starting to protest. “What else do you have to do this morning?” he asked after a moment.

Mentally running through your list, you sighed. “I need to do some cleaning and get into the attic. I’ll start cooking a bit closer to noon, so things just have to be warmed up.”

“What do you need from the attic?”

“My nice china. My parents bought my sister and I sets for our hope chests when we were kids.”

“What’s a hope chest?”

“You know, stuff you’d need once you get married?” When his eyebrows shot up, you shrugged. “They weren’t really serious about it - it was more of a joke. But, every once in a while, they’d buy something for us and put it away for when we were older and say it was for our hope chest.” Taking a bite of muffin, you gave him a sad smile, “Mine’s more of a ‘hopeless’ chest,’ though. I guess they finally gave up on me getting married because they gave it to me when they sold their house and moved closer to the grandkids. I figured I’d get it out and use it instead of having it sit in the cardboard boxes it’s been in for over two decades.” Something passed over Bradley’s face but disappeared in an instant. Wanting to change the subject, you asked, “What do you usually do for Thanksgiving?”

“Nothing. It’s just another Thursday.” When you frowned, he lifted a shoulder. “A couple of times, I went to the Officer’s Club, or someone would invite me over. But most of the time, I just make myself a turkey sandwich and catch up on sleep. What about you?”

“If I’m not with my family, then this. When I first commissioned, I went to the O-Club with some friends but missed cooking and hanging out. And you know how hard it is to go home for the holidays.” He nodded even though he didn’t. Bradley never asked for the time off unless he was dating someone who insisted on it. With no family to visit, he was happy to volunteer when there was reduced manning and allow others to take leave. “So I invited a couple of people from my squad over, and that was that.”

“It’s a lot of work.”

“It is,” you agreed. “But it’s worth it.” Bradley’s fingers curled around his plate and in his sweatpants, his chest expanding as he took a deep breath. When he shifted forward, you quickly stood and reached out your hand for his empty plate. “Do you want another one?” Shaking his head, he stood and took your plate.

“Do you?” Swallowing hard, you shook your head and watched him walk back into the kitchen. Biting back a groan, you gave yourself a moment to collect yourself. Things had been…different… since you’d gotten home. And as much as you enjoyed these quiet moments alone with Bradley, it also stung. You’d thought the time away would help, but as soon as you were back, it was like no time had passed. He was still there, partnering for foosball in the Ready Room and coaxing you to go to the Hard Deck. Making sure that you sat next to him in briefings. Offering to look at your car when it made a noise.

Friends. That’s what friends do for each other. After all, he did the same for Nat.

Collecting the empty coffee mugs, you followed him to the kitchen and watched as Bradley cleaned up the mess and set it in the sink. “Don’t feel like you have to stick around, Rooster. I can handle getting everything ready.”

“I’m happy to help if you want me here. I’d just sit at my house watching TV and wait to come back if I went home.”

Chewing the inside of your lip, you bit back a wave of want. “Don’t think this gets you out of the dress code,” you replied, forcing your voice to be cool while allowing your eyes to run the length of him. “I’m serious - slacks and button-downs, not sweats.”

Laughing, he snapped a salute. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure I run home and change to pass your inspection.”

The rest of the morning was a blur, punctuated by moments of stark clarity.

Bradley’s hands on your waist as you climbed down the attic stairs.

Biceps flexing as he carried your Christmas tree to a spare bedroom to set up tomorrow.

His elbow bumping yours as he dried the china and set it aside.

The look of concentration on his face when he basted and injected the turkey again.

His body passing close to yours as he emptied the dishwasher and you assembled dishes.

Just after noon, he went home to get ready while you showered. People were due to arrive around 1:30 PM, and you were back on schedule with your unexpected assistant.

Sooner than you expected, there was a knock at the door. Groaning, you capped your mascara, shimmied into your black sheath cocktail dress, and went to answer it. Bradley stood on the porch, having changed into a pair of slacks and one of his nicer Hawaiian shirts, hands in his pockets. Folded over his arm was a coat, and he grinned at you when he caught you looking at it. “Wasn’t sure if I would pass inspection without a sports coat,” he chuckled, allowing his gaze to rake over you. A flush rose on your cheeks as you reached behind yourself to pull up the dress zipper. It caught just above the top of your thong. “You look… you’re fine.” Chuckling, he shook his head.

“Turn around, Duch.” After a beat, you stepped back to allow him inside and did as he said.

“There’s a hook and eye at the top,” you said and inhaled sharply when you felt his fingers brush the back of your neck. The smell of his cologne enveloped you, and you bit back a moan when his hand moved to your lower back and tugged the zipper up. After a beat, you turned to face him and were surprised by how close he was. His mouth curved into a smile as he looked down at you, hand resting on your waist.

“You look fine, too,” he said softly. Your hands itched to move to his chest. Bradley’s eyes drifted to your lips, and your breath caught as his fingers flexed around you. If asked, you would have sworn you felt the lightest pressure pulling you closer - but then someone knocked on the door. Stepping out of his hold, you smoothed your hair down and ignored the brief moment his hands hung in suspension before being shoved back into his pockets.

“I came early to see if you needed a hand,” Phoenix said when you opened the door. In her hands was a tray, and she’d also chosen a cocktail dress for the occasion. Her normally tied-back hair was loose around her shoulders.

“Hey,” you smiled, hoping that you weren’t blushing. Nat’s eyes shifted over your shoulders and narrowed slightly.

“What are you doing here?”

“Same as you - seeing of Duch needed help.”

“He’s been here all morning,” you blurted out, flushing when both sets of eyes landed on you. “He’s taking care of the turkey.”

“The guy who hates cooking is in charge of the main dish?” Nat smirked. “Probably would have been better letting Hangman fry it.”

“He’s being supervised,” you assured, glancing over your shoulder to see him rolling his eyes. Stepping back to let Nat into the house, you accidentally bumped into Bradley, who held your hips to steady you. Quickly moving away from his touch, you took the tray from her and motioned for them to follow you into the kitchen. “I haven’t had a chance to put any drinks out, but there’s some coffee left and wine chilling. I still need to make the cocktails, but there’s also soda and flavored water.” The two followed you, exchanging a look that you missed.

As soon as he entered the kitchen, Bradley tossed his coat onto the wet bar and moved to the oven, flipping on the light to check the turkey before glancing at his watch. “I need to do the last basting, right?”

“It’s about that time,” you agreed, glancing at the clock. Digging through a drawer, you pulled out an apron and put it on, crossing the strings behind your back before tying them in a bow across your stomach. You thought you heard a murmured ‘Jesus Christ’ when you turned around to see him holding the pot holders.

You could feel Nat watching as you worked together to remove the turkey and then return it to the oven, popping olives into her mouth and smirking. “Looks like you guys have it down,” she said. “Don’t need my help at all.”

“Nope,” Bradley said, drowning out your, “You can feel free to relax.”

“Might as well do something since I’m here,” she shrugged, pushing off her elbows. “What can I do?”

And so, with a third set of hands, you set them to making large batches of seasonal cocktails while you cut the bread you’d made that morning, covering it with slices of brie and dried cranberries before drizzling it with honey. A quick scroll through your schedule gave you the times to start cooking, and you preheated the second oven.

The house slowly filled as more of the squad arrived. Countertops were quickly covered with their contributions - thankfully, more than beer and wine, and only a few sides repeated - and you mentally shifted your schedule to accommodate the additional dishes.

Mav, Penny, and Amelia were the last to arrive, with her new bartender, Georgia, in tow. Penny had asked you if she could invite her, given that the woman was new to the area and didn’t have anywhere else to spend the holiday. You’d replied with, “The more, the merrier,” just like you had for everyone else’s requests to bring a guest.

But you regretted that sentiment when you saw how she zeroed in on Bradley, staying close to him while you worked in the kitchen. The few times you broke away to mingle - showing off your renovated home, making sure that everyone’s glasses were topped off and that they didn’t need anything - you saw her hanging off his arm, giving him a simpering smile that set your teeth on edge. And, while she’d adhered to the dress code, you weren’t exactly thrilled to see that her breasts were nearly spilling out of her low-cut dress.

“You need anything, Duchess?” Payback asked, setting down the pitcher of spiced ginger pear and bourbon.

“I’m good,” you replied, wiping your hands on the dish rag thrown over your shoulder and blowing a loose strand of hair from your face. “Turkey should be done in a few minutes; once it rests, we can eat.”

“Thanks for doing this,” he said, glancing over at your full house. Aviators were sprawled across your living room and spilled out into the backyard. It was exactly what you’d hoped for when redesigning the house - plenty of space to comfortably entertain.

“I’m happy to, Payback,” you smiled, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. “Beats having a quiet house for the holidays.”

“Want me to get the turkey out for you?”

“I’ve got it covered,” a voice said behind you, and you couldn’t help but wonder about Bradley's slightly sharp tone as you pulled away from the hug.

“Got it,” Payback replied, raising an eyebrow and lifting his hands. “Let me know if you need anything, Duch.” Squaring your shoulders, you turned to face the man behind you and forced a smile.

“I’ll clear off a spot on the stove for you to put the pan, and then we’ll let it sit for half an hour.”

“Then it’ll be done?”

“Then you’ll have officially made your first turkey,” you nodded. When the timer went off, Bradley quickly pulled the bird from the oven and set it on the stove, closely inspecting his work.

“Does it look right?”

“Yes, relax.”

“Did you make it?” a smokey voice asked, and you felt your shoulders rise. Glancing at Georgia, you saw Bradley’s eyes dart between you.

“He did,” you answered, smiling at the woman.

“I just followed her directions,” he replied.

“It looks great!” Georgia giggled. Forcing a smile, you undid the apron strings and pulled it off before excusing yourself. You could feel eyes on you as you walked down the hallway to your bedroom and shut the door, retreating to your en suite.

After washing your hands for the millionth time, you quickly applied lotion while examining your appearance in the mirror. Compared to Georgia, you looked matronly with your hair pulled back and a higher neckline. Sure, your dress was classy - somewhat tight and falling just above your knees - but not attention-grabbing.

Not that you were trying to grab anyone’s attention.

A knock on your bedroom door startled you, and you peeked out to call, “Who is it?”

“Rooster.” Glancing back in the mirror, you saw your cheeks were slightly pink and scowled at your reflection.

“Get it together,” you hissed before turning off the light and going to open the door. And there he was, smiling down at you.

“Your phone was going off,” he said, holding up your cell. When your eyes flitted toward it, the device unlocked to show your family group chat was going off. Taking it from him, you swiped up to see videos and pictures. A smile crept onto your mouth as you clicked the first and heard your older sister’s voice.

“Guess what?” she said before tossing a card down and throwing her hands up. Cheers and laughs broke out, and you could hear your nephew complaining as your grandmother said, “Looks like Mom won!”

The camera panned to show your other nephew licking whipped cream off his pie, utterly unfazed by the family now pounding on the table in a drumroll. Catching Bradley’s interested expression, you moved so he could see the screen. Scrolling through the other videos, you watched your mom roll down a hill with the boys and your dad holding a glass of wine with your brother-in-law. The sight made your heart clench, and you sighed. Being away from family on the holidays was the worst. Thankfully, they all understood that your job didn’t always give you the flexibility to be with them.

“Looks like a fun group.”

“They are. I’m glad I get to spend Christmas with them.” He nodded, a flicker of sadness and something else in his eyes. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Mav’s already told me I’m spending it with him and Penny.”

“Sounds like fun.” You knew a complicated dynamic existed there but didn’t want to pry. His shoulder lifted, eyes drifting to your now dark phone. And that’s when you recognized the look on his face - longing. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” When he saw your unconvinced expression, he sighed. “Holidays kind of suck when you don’t have family.”

“I’m sorry, Bradley.” Something in his expression changed when you said his name and reached out to touch his arm. His eyes darted from your hand to your face, and you quickly pulled away. But he was faster, catching your fingers and holding tightly. Your breath caught with the intensity of his gaze, and he stepped into your room. His breath was warm on your face when you refused to retreat. Lifting your chin, you saw his throat bob when he swallowed.

“Hey, there’s a timer going off,” Bob called down the hall.

“Be right there,” you yelled back, pushing lightly against Bradley’s chest and forcing space between you. But when you tried to shake off his hand, he held fast. “I need to go, or something will burn,” you breathed. Reluctantly, he nodded and released you.

You’d already removed the green bean casserole and macaroni and cheese from the oven when Bradley reappeared. Unsurprisingly, Georgia glued herself to his side as he sipped his drink. Though you could feel him looking at you, you refused to meet his gaze.

When everything was ready, you looked over your kitchen and nodded approvingly. When the guys offered to carve the turkey, you turned them all down and delegated that task to Bradley. “He earned it,” you said, glancing at him before busying yourself with opening another bottle of wine. With Coyote and Fanboy at his elbows critiquing his cuts, you steered clear of that part of the kitchen and chatted with Penny while pulling out silverware.

Hangman refused to let you go around the room and tell people that food was ready, instead pulling out a chair and helping you stand on it before whistling loudly to get everyone’s attention. “Dinner’s served!” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder, his arm around your hips to keep you steady. “Thank you for bringing something, and please help yourself. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone - I’m glad I get to spend it with you.” Lifting your wine glass, you took a quick sip and laughed when Hangman lifted you off the chair to set you back on the floor.

Choosing to wait until your guests had a plate, you leaned against the wet bar and smiled tiredly, watching your hard work be devoured. There weren’t enough chairs for everyone at the table, so the group spread into the living room. You took a few pictures and sent them to your family.

Someone stepped in front of you, pulling your attention from your phone. “You’re not gonna eat?” Bradley asked.

“Just waiting for the line to clear,” you replied, forcing a nonchalant tone. The corner of his mouth twitched as he shook his head.

“Come on, Duch.” His fingers curled around yours, drawing you from the counter and into the line. Grabbing one of the smaller salad plates, you let him push you in front of him, taking small amounts of almost every dish while he served himself larger portions. After topping up your wine, you walked to the living room and felt him behind you, ignoring Georgia's attempt to get his attention. He motioned for you to take the last spot on the couch and sat on the floor. “Jesus,” he moaned after taking the first bite of turkey.

“Mmmm,” you agreed. “You did a good job.”

“Who would have thought the guy who made the barracks evacuate after he burned ramen would make a good turkey,” Nat smirked. Bradley flipped her off, unable to keep the proud grin off his face.

Dessert was eaten, and the last bottle of wine finished before 7:00 PM. The house felt quiet as it slowly emptied, and you hugged everyone goodbye. Already, tentative plans for a Christmas party formed even as you fought off a yawn. After assuring Penny that you were fine cleaning up, she left with Mav and Amelia in tow.

Which left only Bradley.

The sound of running water drew you back into the kitchen, and you paused in the doorway at the sight of him rinsing silverware and loading the dishwasher, a hand towel thrown over his shoulder. “I can take care of that,” you said quickly. Bradley glanced at you and shook his head.

“Relax, I’ve got it. Can the plates go in here, or do they need to be hand-washed?”

“They can go in there.” Ignoring the order, you walked around the house, picked up empty glasses and forgotten dishes, and set them by the sink. Donning your apron, you surveyed the leftovers, “Did you want any of this?”

“Yeah, I’ll take a plate.” Nodding, you started to put the food away. Thankfully, there wasn’t a lot left. Everyone had been happy to take leftovers, and you were glad you’d had the forethought to buy containers for them to keep.

The silence was comfortable, and you were stifling yawns with the back of your hand. Between the turkey, wine, and lack of sleep the night before, you were ready to change back into comfy clothes and pass out. Without prompting, Bradley started to cut up what was left of the turkey, placing some in the containers you’d portioned for him before putting the rest in the fridge. You started the dishwasher when it was full and wiped down counters. After tossing the rest of the turkey, he took the trash out.

When the door swung shut, you took the opportunity to stretch, moaning when your back popped before bending at the waist and letting your arms dangle. As much as you enjoyed hosting, your body took a beating, being on your feet all day. You would definitely need to invest in some mats to make the kitchen floor more comfortable before your next full day of cooking.

Even when the door opened, you felt too good stretching to stand up straight. You heard Bradley chuckle and then the sound of water running, followed by the snap of a trashbag being shaken out. Finally, you stood and threw out a hand to steady yourself when the world spun. Hands wrapped around your hips and drew you closer. “You okay, honey?”

The term of endearment caught you off-guard and had clearly slipped out by the flush on Bradley’s cheeks. “Honey?” you echoed, quirking a brow.

“Duchess,” he corrected.

“Rooster.” Your hands rested on his forearms, feeling the muscles flex as his fingers clenched around your hips. Taking a deep breath, you felt your chest brush his. His lips quirked into a wry smile. “What?”

“Just waiting for something to interrupt.” At your questioning look, he chuckled. “Been trying to kiss you all day, and something always gets in the way.”

“What?” you breathed, shock written across your face.

“Been thinkin’ about kissing you since that night at the Hard Deck, actually.”

“T-the Hard Deck?”

“Yup. Before you deployed.” Heat rushed to your face at the memory - or lack thereof - of your going away party. There had been one too many shots, and you had a vague recollection of Bradley driving the Bronco. Of him telling you not to throw up while he helped Nat into her apartment before taking you home. Half carrying you to bed and making sure you had water and medicine - warm hands on your face and a raspy laugh.

“When I was drunk?”

“When you told me you liked me.” Mortified, you felt a sudden flush of heat and tried to pull away, but he held firm. “But that you didn’t think I was a relationship guy.”

“Roo - ”

“I am. A relationship guy,” he clarified, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “For the right woman.” Your mouth was dry, unable to force out a single word. “I was gonna say something before you left, but you avoided me. And then you were gone for three months.”

“I… you messaged me.”

“Wasn’t exactly something I wanted to say over email,” Bradley chuckled. “I like you too.”

“What about Georgia?”

That drew him up short, and a confused look crossed his face. “The bartender?”

“Yeah. She… I mean, she’s clearly interested. And more your type.” Groaning, he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours.

“Honey, I’m not interested in her. And she’s not… ask Nat. She’s been on my case about my” - he lifted a hand to make air quotes - “‘hoe phase’ since I got out here.” That drew a snort from you, and Bradley pulled away to smile at you bashfully. “Gimme a chance, Duch.”

Hesitating a moment, you took another deep breath and gave the butterflies in your stomach free rein. Hands shaking, you wrapped your arms around his neck and nodded, unable to keep from matching his smile.

Moving slowly, as though afraid to spook you, Bradley leaned down and brushed his nose to yours. “As much as this is doin’ things for me,” he said softly, pulling at the apron strings tied at your stomach, “I think we’re done in the kitchen tonight.” Biting your lip, you could only nod, leaning away as he tugged it over your head, balled the apron up, and tossed it behind you. With his hands back on your hips, he walked you backward and lifted you onto the counter, stepping between your knees. “This alright?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, allowing yourself to reach out and run a hand through his curls. Bradley's eyes closed when you lightly scratched his scalp, and he swayed closer. His breath ghosted over your lips and -

“Fucking Christ,” he groaned when his phone started to buzz. You jumped, feeling the vibration against your shin, and laughed as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck. Your breath caught, feeling his lips on your throat. When he reached into his pocket and scowled down at the screen, you saw Nat’s name before he sent the call to voicemail.

Leaving the phone on the counter, he smirked and guided your legs around his waist as your arms went around his neck. His hands cupped your ass as he lifted you. In the doorway to the kitchen, he paused long enough for you to slap the walls until the lights turned off before walking toward the couch and lowering himself onto it. Your knees dug into the cushion on either side of him, forcing the hem of your dress higher.

From this angle, he had to look up at you. Hands migrated from your ass to thighs, callouses lightly scraping and fingertips darting under the fabric to trace shapes on your skin and drag the hem higher. Lightly, you ran your thumb along the scars on his chin before ghosting over the ones on his cheek that had always intrigued you. A moan rumbled from his throat as he followed your touch, mustache tickling the delicate skin of your wrist. Blushing, you wondered how it would feel on your inner thighs. He chuckled, kissing your cheek, “What’re you thinking that’s got you red?”

Rather than answer, you turned and kissed him - just a light brush of your lips against his that seemed to catch him off-guard. You stared at one another for a long moment until he guided you closer. His mustache prickled, not unpleasantly but different, when he kissed you again. It was sweet and unhurried, a direct contradiction to the hardness you felt straining against his zipper.

Pulling away, you smiled tentatively down at him, seeing the remnants of your lipstick on his mouth. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and you leaned forward to press your lips to them. “Hi,” you said softly.

“Hey.”

“You like me?”

“Yeah. You like me?”

Rather than reply, you captured his lips again. “Drunk words,” you said between kisses, “are sober thoughts.” He barked a laugh before tugging you closer and licking into your mouth.

“Shoulda said something earlier,” he chided, gripping your ass tightly. “Coulda been doing this for a long time.”

“Blame the tequila.” The word came out as a moan when he trailed kisses down your neck, and you felt him smile.

“Thank god for tequila,” he mumbled, nuzzling your breasts and making you grind down on him. Bradley caught your hands when your fingers trailed down his chest to tug at his shirt. “Nuh-uh, honey. Gonna take you on a couple of dates before we get to that.”

“What?”

“No more ‘hoe phase.’”

“Maybe just one more night?” That made him laugh again as he shook his head.

“No, Duch. Wanna do this right with you.”

“I’ve heard the stories. I know you would.” When you rocked against him, he pinned your hand at your lower back and stilled you with a hand on your hip. He growled your name and smirked when your thighs clenched.

“Liked that, huh?” he teased. “Ms. Prim and Proper Duchess likes to be bossed around?” Heat flooded your face, and he chuckled again. Without warning, he stood, and you squeaked, trying to keep from falling. But he held you steady and set you on your feet, towering over you. “Can I stay over?” You didn’t hesitate in nodding, and his kiss was rough before he pulled away and swatted your ass. “Go get ready for bed while I lock up.”

When you emerged from the bathroom, face cleaned and in your panties and a tank top, Bradley was lying in the middle of your bed in just his boxers. Groaning, he looked at you and shook his head. “Where are those sweats from this morning?”

“You want me to wear sweats to bed?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe and raising an eyebrow. His hand drifted down to his hard cock, squeezing lightly. “You’ve seen me in less at the beach.”

“Trying to do this right, honey.” Rolling your eyes, you walked to your dresser and pulled on sweatpants before digging out a pair of fuzzy socks. He laughed when you tossed them at his head, setting them aside as you circled the bed to lie beside him. Quickly, he pinned you beneath him, settling in the cradle of your thighs. As he licked into your mouth, you felt his hips rolling against yours. “Still too damn sexy,” he murmured against your lips.

“Housewife lingerie does it for you?” you teased, running your hands through his hair. Rather than answer, he looped an arm under your knee and drew it up, allowing you to feel him better. “Fuck.”

“Not tonight.”

And, unfortunately, he was true to his word. Anytime your hands strayed to his boxers, he pinned them over your head, seemingly content to tease and kiss all night.

Eventually, though, you could no longer keep from yawning. After setting his alarm - Bradley was on duty in the morning while you’d taken the day off - he tucked you against him, your back to his chest. His cock pressed against your ass as he kissed your shoulder, hand slipping under your shirt to brush the underside of your breast. Sighing, he murmered, “Best Thanksgiving I’ve had in a long time.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: Do I think that Bradley has a raging domesticity kink? Possibly.

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joeyfranchise · 1 month ago

Text

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣

a star on top…

boyfriend!joe x fem!reader

summary: joe helps you put up your christmas decorations… and a star on top completes all the scenery ;)

warnings: nsfw mdni!!! kinda sweet smutty fluff, riding, p in v (wrap yo willy!!), lots of kissing and cheesiness

word count: 2k.

note: ALAS! i made it in time. if it sucks i’m sorry. i listened to a nonsense christmas by sabrina carpenter, music for a sushi restaurant and santa baby by ariana grande & liz gillies while writing 🤍 (please appreciate the spongebob joke in the summary hehe)

you’d think six boxes full of christmas decorations would be enough for just two people. joe dragged them out of storage one by one so you could go through them and arrange them how you wanted, but here you were elbows deep in the fourth box while you chatted to him about more stuff you needed.

he wasn’t mad, not by any means, he actually found it cute how much you loved to decorate… but jeez. did anyone need this much stuff? anyone in the world?

“i realllllly need them joe!” you exaggerated, earning a sarcastic eyeroll from him. “they’re flocked nutcrackers! and they come in white, pink, red, black… and i even saw a disco ball nutcracker, and…”

joe crossed the room quickly and silenced your ranting with a kiss. “bub, i promise, this weekend we’ll go find the nutcrackers, okay? for now, let’s decorate with what we do have.”

you looked up at him with big, puppy dog eyes. he was right, you needed to use what you had. “sorry for sounding like a spoiled brat.” you apologized, looking down at your decorations in defeat. joe chuckled at your reaction.

you continued pulling things out of the boxes, there was an endless amount of garland and strings of lights. you set aside the garland and lights for the banister of the stairway, the set that went outside, and the final set that went across the mantle. joe finally began digging inside a box, pulling out a bunch of tiny christmas houses and store-fronts wrapped in newspaper.

it was a village set that once belonged to your mother, but now belonged to you. you quietly reminisced on hours you’d spend with your sister imagining tiny people living in the christmas village, what they did for work and how they spent their life. you two always had the wildest imagination. a smile crept across your face as you watched joe unwrap them and place them in the exact order you liked. to be loved is to be known.

you took a box to the kitchen next, getting out all of your christmas themed hand towels to set aside for washing, and placing all of your kitchen trinkets in their designated areas. joe finished with the village and started working on decorating the banister. the sight of him decorating was enough to make you feel emotional, you didn’t ask or expect him to help.

he always just did it.

you kept your eyes trained on him, watching as he worked. he wrapped the garland and lights so carefully before plugging them in to admire them. you smiled at him as walked down the stairs, happy with how it turned out. “looks great, babe!” you assure him as he pulls you in for a sweet hug. he kisses your forehead before looking around the kitchen at all the things you’d placed around.

there was a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked at your favorite cookie plate that sat empty in the corner of the counter. “soooo…. you gonna bake some cookies for us?” he asked teasingly, tickling at your sides gently with his fingertips.

“mhm. what kind do you want?”

“chocolate chip, chocolate brownie… maybe some of those chai cookies you made a few weeks ago. and something pumpkin if you can?”

“you got it, babe!” you replied. you pulled him down for a sweet kiss, resting your arms around his shoulders as his hands found your hips. joe pulled away after a minute.

“i’m gonna finish up on the garland and lights, that way when you’re done we can do the christmas tree together.” he said, grabbing another set and heading to the porch to wrap them around the rails just like he did inside.

you finished placing your decorations around the kitchen and you put a few in the guest bathroom too just to feel extra festive. you always enjoyed changing the toothbrush holders to holiday themed ones, and changing out your throw blankets for the holidays, you could go on… being festive was something you were insanely good at.

joe always helped you decorate, even though he sometimes had a grinchy reputation. you watched him finish up outside through the window, and when he came back in the tip of his nose was red. he pulled his beanie down a bit farther over his red ears and you chuckled.

you didn’t let him get too far in the door before jumping into his arms, and he held you close to suck up some of your warmth. you placed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, then to the corners of his eyes, and then to both cheeks. joe smiled up at you.

he let you down gently and walked over to the giant box that sat in the corner. he opened it up and began taking out the christmas tree pieces and you grabbed the base, opening it up and placing it where you wanted it to go. one by one you pieced the tree together.

it took a while to fluff the tree, but since you were both working on it, it took a lot less longer than you expected. joe helped you wrap the silver-white lights around it carefully, and then you hung silver and gold ornaments all around it.

you stepped back and admired your work, shimmying and doing a little happy dance as you took in all the decorations around you. everything was perfect, and aside from a few treat-related things, you were essentially done decorating.

joe reached his hand into the final box and pulled out the last decoration, the tree topper. it was a glittery silver star. you suddenly remembered the height of the tree. last year joe had to finish decorating it, and you weren’t sure how he got the star up there.

“you need me to get you a step stool?” you asked him, already turning to head for the garage. “nah,” he responded quickly. “come back, i have a better idea.”

you walked over to him slowly, recognizing that mischievous glint in his eye. “joey…” you start, your eyes widening. he crouches down in front of you, smirk pulling across his face. “get on my shoulders.”

“hell no! what if i fall?” you ask incredulously. you couldn’t believe he was suggesting this… but then again, yes you could. “get on, it’ll be quick. you just have to put the star on!”

you roll your eyes at him. “fine. but if i get hurt then i’m gonna be really mad. and if i die i’m haunting you.”

“i’m looking forward to that.” he jokes, laughing as you gently kick his shin. “what? then you’d be able to see my every move. and watch me when i’m naked. ghost perv.”

you laugh incredibly loud at his joke before throwing your leg over and sitting on his shoulders. suddenly, you felt like a kid again, riding on someone’s shoulders on a hot summer day. you weren’t surprised joe could carry your weight, of course he could. you were more worried about your coordination and afraid you’d topple the tree over almost instantly.

joe handed you the tree topper as he stood, his hands holding a firm grip on your thighs. he walked forward slowly until he was directly in front of the tree, and you leaned over and placed the topper on with ease. you were happy that it went so well, because you were honestly scared shitless. joe backed up a bit and crouched again so you could hop off his shoulders.

you did another victory dance, giddy at how beautiful your decorations looked. joe scooped you up into his arms quickly, laughing into your neck as he began to press kisses to your column.

“you’re so cute.” he said with mirth, walking over to the couch and plopping down with you on his lap. you grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his, kissing him lazily as his hands slipped under your sweater and roamed over the expanse of your back. the sounds of your smacking lips and laboured breaths filled the room as your kisses drew deeper and deeper.

you began to grind your hips into joe’s subconsciously, and joe moaned into your kisses as his length hardened against you. the friction of your movements felt so good even though there were layers of clothes between you, and you moaned back against his lips just as fervently. joe began pulling your sweater over your head and you let him, gasping as the cool air hit your naked skin. you weren’t wearing a bra and the chill of the room hardened your buds almost instantly, but joe didn’t care. he began kissing at your chest, his tongue rolling over one of your nipples while his large hands grasped at the other.

you tilted your head back, moaning as joe continued his ministrations on you, and you pressed your hips into his roughly. joe pulled you closer to him, moving his kisses from your chest to your neck again before nibbling on your ear. “let’s take this to the bedroom.” you whispered, looking down at him.

he shook his head no before lifting you up and sitting you on the couch next to him. “let’s do it right here, i don’t wanna wait. plus i love the way the christmas lights look on your skin.”

you blushed at his comment and watched as he pulled his pants and boxers down his legs. his cock sprang free, the tip was angry and red. you leaned over and took him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down a few times to get him wet enough to slide into you. joe fisted the couch pillows in his grip as you hollowed your cheeks.

you pulled off him with a loud pop and quickly shimmied out of your shorts before throwing your legs back over his and hovering over his cock. he used his thumb to push himself forward and you sank down onto his length slowly, taking a few moments to adjust. while joe sat fully sheathed inside of you he began kissing you again, his hand finding their way into your hair as he held you close.

the intimacy of the moment ran a shiver through you.

you finally lifted yourself up slightly before quickly moving back down, beginning to ride him at a tantalizingly slow pace. joe hissed at your teasing but you kept going, moving to your own liking.

his hands found your hips and they gripped you firmly but he made no attempt to push you to go faster, he wanted you to enjoy this too. you continued your slow, soft, steady movements as joe let out quiet moans beneath you.

your legs started to feel a bit weak but you pushed through, yet joe sensed your uncomfortability. he finally began moving his hips upward, pressing his tip right into your sweet spot as his thumb gently rubbed circles into your clit. you gasped suddenly, the feeling of your orgasm finally taking over.

warmth spread throughout your body as you shook slightly above joe, and seconds later he came too, resting his forehead against your shoulder as he spilled into you. neither of you were quick to make a move. joe looked up at you and giggled and you tilted your head wondering what was funny.

as if he read your mind, he gave you an answer to his amusement. “guess you were my star on top.” he said with a wink. you pretended to gag at his cheesy joke before kissing him again, raking your nails through his hair.

“i guess we should shower.” he said softly, looking into your eyes and waiting for an answer. you nodded slowly, pulling off of him. he carried you to the shower before turning on the hot stream.

“after this we can have hot chocolate and watch a movie. plus, you owe me cookies.” he joked, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“yeah, and you owe me flocked nutcrackers.”

photos and dividers used are not mine. all cred to owners.

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