#Scrooge x Santa

[sherbetlemonss]

Um Scranta 🤯🤯

Heres the seasonal ship and also Scrooge from that episode bc that outfit is cute🫶🫶🫶

[giddlygoat]

i literally had to stop in the middle of S3:E19 to make this. special thanks to @leo-undrgrnd for coming up with louie’s joke LAWL

[sweettjrose]

Happy Holidays @violetganache42!!!

I am your Secret Santa and have written you a short story starring some of your and my favorite characters Webby and Scrooge. I hope you like it and have a wonderful holiday season and a happy new year!!!

Thank you so much to @duckblr-secret-santa for letting me participate!

[boingodigitalart]

Hey @killmotorhill here's my secret santa gift for you!!! Some scroldie winter snuggles and I also added Louie if you don't mind.

My contribution for @duckblrsecretsanta2023 which I really had a lot of fun doing!!

[gutsby]

Stuck

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel gets nominated to play Santa Claus for Jackson’s holiday festivities. Of course, you’re into that.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Breeding kink. Age gap. Santa Claus kink (it’s brief). F!Oral. Omitting one tag to avoid spoiling the ending—please read at your own risk.

Note: Kinda inspired by Otis Redding’s Try a Little Tenderness

Word count: 5.5k

“Give your old man a kiss before he leaves?”

The invitation shouldn’t have made you as wet as it did. But it had. And Joel just grinned, lips twitching beneath his big fake beard and palms pulling you toward his body.

The kiss had had to be wholesome and quick. Before long, he’d be surrounded by a sea of eager, wide-eyed, and awe-stricken children in the middle of Jackson’s town square, and what sort of example would you be setting if you were the girl caught kissing Santa Claus?

It wouldn’t rally much confidence in Father Christmas, if either of you had had to guess. You let him go. With a soft, innocuous tug of his belt buckle and a pat on his padded belly, you’d promised to be extra good while he was gone and leave more than just milk and cookies out for him later. Joel had blinked twice, and in the glint of one look, you could tell he’d wanted to say much more.

But then Tommy, dressed as an elf and scowling like Ebenezer Scrooge, had tugged him off your porch.

“You can get those cookies later, Nick. Let’s go.”

And that had been the last you’d seen of the pair before you’d snuck off to see Maria about Joel’s secret gift.

Now, two hours later in the glow of a roaring fire and near-unbearable excitement, you were perched on the sofa. Sitting with your knees tucked underneath you and a glass of milk, a tray of cookies, and a small, rectangular box tied with a bow set beside you on the coffee table.

You really hoped Joel would like his present.

You also guessed it wouldn’t hurt that you were currently half-naked in a ruby red satin teddy for his return home.

As soon as you heard the creak of the front door, you straightened up. You watched a body shuffle in, head bowed and shaking snow off his sprayed-white locks. Joel looked perfectly ancient in his present get-up: thick black boots, velvet crimson pantsuit, chest-length beard, and lopsided hat. He looked haggard and adorable, too. You could tell by the way he kicked off his shoes and left them stranded by the door he was absolutely drained by the events of that night—dealing with every kid in town under the age of ten likely hadn’t been his first choice.

But now he was here. Joel had been so preoccupied with getting off his boots that he hadn’t even seen you on the couch, and the instant his gaze landed on you, it froze.

“Baby…” he groaned.

His whole face softened, like he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him then, and his arms stretched out for you.

He looked childlike, almost, with the way he lumbered over. His limbs were heavy, and they felt that way coming to crash over your cowered frame on the sofa. You leapt back and squealed, only to feel two big palms grab you by the hips and pin you underneath him. Joel’s breaths were warm, and his eyes were alight with rapt intrigue.

“This all for me?” he asked, sliding his hands down your thighs and in between them. He cursed feeling the heat.

You had to bite back a laugh at how silly this looked—Santa Clause, a staple of your childhood, prying your legs apart and all but drooling at the sight inside. Pawing at your legs, then at your hips, then at the band of your panties beneath the tulle hemline of your teddy. It felt fun in a depraved sort of way. You felt naughty, like you might not want to share Joel’s gift with him until after all the fun was over. But, deep down, you weren’t that cruel.

“Don’t you wanna see your gift? Have your milk and cookies?” you asked sweetly, just narrowly managing to slide an arm out from underneath Joel’s weight and pointing to the assortment of goodies on the table.

Joel looked that way briefly, but then his gaze was back on you. Its warmth was smoldering. Darkening in time.

“Later. Santa’s got a bone to pick with you first.”

You squealed again as fingers hooked in your panties.

“But— but— you’ll really like this gift, Joel. Really.”

“Yeah? Already got one for you right here, kiddo.”

In a crass, graceless sort of gesture, Joel removed one hand from you to grab his crotch, and shake it firmly—‘Got a good seven inches of this gift to share, sugar’—and from there, you had no choice but to acquiesce. If Joel really didn’t mind putting off his gift for yours, at first, that was on him. You leaned back to get comfy.

“If you insist.” The smile you flashed him was coy.

Knowing, as your underwear was slid down your legs and Joel nestled in between them on the couch. You propped your head on a pillow and watched, feeling another small wave of sick nostalgia wash over your senses; Joel was still fully dressed as Kris Kringle stripping you naked.

He’d just moved to pull off the white beard, tied snug with a string, when you reached down and stopped him.

“Leave it,” you said, voice quavering with the threat of a giggle. This was insane. “Leave the beard. Leave all of it.”

Joel flashed you a look with a brow cocked up, confused.

“You want me to eat you out as Santa Clause?” he asked.

He grinned, and you almost laughed again. His expression was still puzzled—mixed with arousal, the look suited him well—and before he could say another word, you just nodded. Shimmied your red panties the rest of the way down and kicked them off at your feet.

But when Joel reached for your legs to pull you closer to him, you slipped off the couch. Your limp, shimmering frock that barely covered the globes of your ass underneath it brushed the bare skin as you darted off.

You’d meant it to be playful. Joel couldn’t brush aside gift-giving and get his way quite that easily. You stood on your own two feet, pivoting back to face him before starting to make your way toward the stairs. You waved.

“Okay. Give me a minute. If you’re giving me my present now, I need to get the rest of yours ready. It’s…upstairs.”

Joel’s—or Santa’s—whole face dropped. He stood.

“That wasn’t the deal, kiddo. You before me.”

He was already pacing after you, slowly at first; then, when your feet reached the first step, he broke off in a run. You screamed, and tried to tear your way up the rest of the stairs, but before more than four thuds had sounded on the wood, you were being thrust back in Joel’s arms—hoisted off your feet, and carried to the living room without another breath or pause from him. You kicked your feet, pretended to be indignant, and were smiling to yourself, inwardly, the whole time. He would really be kicking himself for this later, you knew.

“Gonna be a good little girl for Santa and stay put now?” he huffed, setting you down on your feet. Rather than heading for the couch, he’d placed you on the rug by the warmth of the fireplace and the winking lights of the Christmas tree, where he knew you felt coziest. And, in the glow of both, he could drink the view in completely.

You dropped to the floor where you knew he wanted you.

Still smiling. Fighting a laugh: “Yes, daddy. I’ll be good.”

Joel laid you back. Spread your legs. Tugged your butt right where he wanted it beside the fire and slotted his torso in between your thighs. Your body was practically humming with anticipation as he brought his head lower.

The fluffy white bobble at the end of his hat swung in front of his face, preventing his mouth from sinking in.

He groaned.

“Fuckin’ kids.” He batted the thing out of his way.

“Been toyin’ with my hat and beard all goddamn night. You’d think I was a…a jungle gym to those little hellions,” Joel added with an edge of taut frustration to his voice.

You knew he’d liked the ‘hellion’ antics, whether he was willing to admit it or not. He’d pretend to be pissed at the kids for being kids, but deep down, he was always more than willing to oblige. He’d practically volunteered to take on the role of Santa before the ballot had even been cast for who’d get to play the Big Red Man for the festivities.

He was your old man. A softie at heart.

Hard in other places, but that was just how you liked it.

He spread your legs with both of his hands and practically moaned at what lay before him now.

You were wet. Glistening. In the light of the fireplace and the evergreen behind him, he could see it all too clearly: how pretty and slick and shiny you were along your slit. You’d been patient awaiting his return, and he could tell. Though you were dripping nectar through your folds, you hadn’t smeared one drop with your fingers—you sat like a gleaming, unwrapped present for the man to devour.

And maybe it felt wrong, all swollen and stiff beneath his costume pants and his hair dusted white to make him look even older than he was—about 1,700 years, give or take, instead of fifty-nine—but the look in his eyes said he wanted it all. He felt raw, and needy, and debased.

You liked seeing Joel this way. You liked feeling wrong.

It was what most of Jackson thought of you, anyway. What had taken Tommy, Maria, and the closest of your friends the longest time to accept, nearly all of your neighbors still thought was pretty strange: how Joel was decades your senior and you two were dating—happily. What they were liable to think when the news of you trying for a baby spread in town was anyone’s guess.

Joel seemed to forget all that as his head sank lower. He forked two of his big, meaty fingers in the shape of a ‘V’ and pushed your folds apart in just the way you liked, and he breathed out slow, warm puffs of air over your cunt. You shuddered, and you waited for his tongue.

“Baby…” he trailed off again.

“Yeah?” Your voice was tight.

A beat of silence passed.

“I’m…probably gonna need to take off the beard.”

You breathed out a soft, reflexive laugh, and you didn’t protest. Joel tugged down the big, white, wiry clump of hair from his face and let his other, shorter one surface.

This one wasn’t white, but it was a handsome black and grey, with a lot more of a silver sheen to its these days. You smiled as Joel drew closer, and that smile only faltered a little as the man kissed your inner thigh.

He did the same to the other leg. He dragged his mouth down the skin toward your center and let his lips part a little. He kissed you again, this time at the top of your mound. It made an extra low, almost lewd sort of sound. He rubbed his nose against your lower belly, and the contrast of the weathered texture to your own was stark.

Joel was old. He looked it even more with his hair painted white and his mouth hovering over your slit.

“She been good this year?” he hummed, peering up.

Before you could answer, Joel’s tongue slid out, and he drew a fat, wet line over the seam of your pussy. Your hips jolted in response, and his free hand held you down.

“She tastes good,” he went on in the most casual tone.

Then, without further warning, his jaw slackened some more and he started lapping at the tender flesh beneath it. He dragged his tongue through the thick, stringy mess and closed his eyes, like he was savoring the taste. His lips curled, and he kissed you again—this time, it closed around your clit, and he suckled you gently. With the first wet pop and a sickening squelch from his mouth, your eyes nearly rolled back in your head; Joel’s opened again as he flashed you a shit-eating grin between your legs.

“She’s been real good for me this year, hasn’t she, hon?” And he squeezed your leg to indicate he wanted a reply.

You tried to answer, but it came out garbled and weak:

“So good, daddy. So— so—”

Oh.

Joel’s fingers moved from their forked position to push his index inside your weeping hole. At the same time, the tip of his tongue flicked delicately against your clit. The two parts of him moved in tandem, and from the feeling of both, you had to bite your lip to keep from letting out a cry. Your hand reached down to grab his hair, but all it could find was that goddamn Santa hat. Joel snickered.

With his lips, tongue, and finger still working your needy cunt, he couldn’t help but smile as you cast the hat aside

“Damn thing,” you cursed, fingers lacing through his hair.

“Language, young lady,” Joel murmured.

Like he was one to talk.

You made a fist with the chalky white locks and rutted your hips the tiniest bit, too flush with pleasure to give a single fuck what words came out of your mouth, and from the way Joel grinned and slid a second finger inside, you had only to guess he didn’t mind either.

He could pretend, though. He licked a little harder, then:

“She’s gonna be sweet for her old man, isn’t she?”

“Y— yes, she is.”

“Nice and polite before she gets this cock?”

“I promise.”

Appearing satisfied with this response, or else simply wanting to bring you to the edge and make you cum on his tongue, Joel wedged his fingers even deeper, then curled them. He brushed the soft, fleshy wall in a beckoning motion and, at the same time, sucked your nub between his lips. He felt you tense, heard you moan, and likely sensed there was no better time for his tongue to dart out again. Just as he released your clit from its airtight kiss, he was back licking circles on the tender, swollen thing, eyes flitting up to yours to hold their gaze.

“Daddy,” you whimpered.

When his fingers curled another time, you cried out.

Your brain was on the fritz; your heels were digging in the rug, stomach tight as it had ever been, and your hands seemed to move with a mind of their own. One was gripping Joel’s hair, giving you leverage to cant your hips against his face, and the other was palming your breast through the thin lace fabric of your teddy. You craved stimulation—couldn’t breathe without the feel of something on you, and in you, as you were about to cum.

Joel nodded his soft approval. He watched you fondle yourself and seemed enthralled, even from where he lay.

“That’s it, baby. Touch yourself while daddy licks your pussy. Lemme see how good she’s feelin’, sweetheart.”

His words were all the propulsion you needed and more. You pinched your nipple through the fabric, whined at the pleasure wrought by your fingers and by Joel’s simultaneously, and felt an even deeper twist in your gut. You grip constricted in his hair; you didn’t need to speak.

“She’s right there, isn’t she? I know that feels nice, baby,” Joel groaned, voice low, “Gonna cum for daddy now?”

You whined. You gripped tighter. Your body needed this.

“C’mon, hon. Let me have it. Cum on daddy’s tongue.”

Two more strokes of his tongue, a gentle thrust of his fingers, and the brush of your own touch across taut, pebbled flesh was enough. The next second had you clamping down on Joel’s hand and giving him all you possibly could, lips parted and spilling a feverish, shrill whine while your orgasm washed over you. Your toes curled into the rug, and Joel pressed your hips down as his tongue fucked you through it. He licked and sucked and coaxed your needy walls again and again; he felt you tremble, and he let your wet essence soak him through.

By the time you were done, his face was glistening.

He lifted his head from between your legs, gaze wild and lips shiny with your full release. He licked them, elated.

“All good, hon?”

“Amazing.”

You let out a shaky breath and pet his hair. Joel smiled.

“Wanna go upstairs? Be a little comfier in the bed, I bet,” he offered, slowly starting to rise, before wincing. Then when his knees audibly cracked, “Your old man needs it.”

You had no doubt about that. You sat up and smiled, and let him lift you to your feet along with him. Another snap.

“Aw, hell,” Joel hissed, shaking his head.

You wrapped an arm around his waist before pacing another step. He leaned a little into you, though not too much, and you couldn’t help but flash him an arch look.

“Did your wishlist include new kneecaps, by chance?”

“No ma’am. Just stronger hands to spank with.”

Joel didn’t miss a beat, grinning down at you.

You would’ve returned with something equally cheeky and light, had you not remembered that thing close by.

“Wait, wait—your present!”

Joel eyed the square box as you retrieved it. His eyes flashed with curiosity before you reappeared under his arm and helped him start up the stairs. He walked, and let out a soft groan, and when you’d made it halfway up, he shook his head at you again. It was slow but emphatic

“Gotta finish your gift first, sweetheart,” he murmured.

And, try as you might to get an inch of give after that, you sensed fighting Joel’s generosity was futile by then. You knew him well enough to guess that he’d only be satisfied receiving his present once yours had been properly secured with another orgasm, and his spend dribbled in big, thick rivers down the insides of your legs.

You heaved a sigh and smiled, walking slowly with him.

Joel, if you only knew.

Despite his best efforts, the man still couldn’t work out how he’d ever gotten so lucky to find something like this—someone like you. As his hips worked their way up to a near-desperate pace, bordering on frenzied as he fucked into you, Joel decided that he wouldn’t bother guessing.

He’d accept this for what it was: a gift he didn’t deserve.

The two of you hadn’t even gotten around to the business of unwrapping your presents yet, and Joel already knew that he had it all just looking down at you.

With your back arched and your hands making fists in the sheets beside your head, wet and glistening cunt accepting each one of his thrusts and squeezing him tight on every stroke, Joel had to steel himself just feeling how good you were, knowing how well you fit him in every way, and sensing this was as close to replete happiness as he’d ever get. He couldn’t ask for more.

Even without a baby, he knew things would be okay.

The two of you had been trying for months now, wholly without success of yet. There had been the night he’d bought a blue pill and fucked you four times in one day, and you’d told him at the end of it all that your period was late. But then you’d bled the next morning, and your hopes, for the present moment, had been dashed away.

No pregnancy hopes since then had amounted to anything else, and at length, you’d agreed not to let it get your spirits down—or try not to, anyway. You’d fuck as often as you could, but you wouldn’t let the thought of wanting a baby make the process less fun for you now.

That didn’t mean Joel couldn’t remind you every now and then what you were hoping the endgame would be.

Presently, he leaned over your prone body on the bed and pressed his lips to your ear. He ground his hips against your ass so his cock wedged itself all the way in to the hilt, and when the tip was just threatening to graze the edge of your cervix, he dropped a kiss on your cheek.

“Want me to put a baby right here?” He spoke gently.

Your walls clenched around him involuntarily, and your head reared back to fall against his shoulder. Joel took this as his opportunity to start peppering more kisses. He knew how much you liked the dirty talk while he was deep inside, talking about how much he wanted to blow his load and knock you up. It was a melting point for you both, and he sensed that you wouldn’t last long after it.

He had your head tilted to his, your lips spilling moan after moan as his dick plunged further inside and your eyes struggling to stay open. They flitted between his, and they gave him a hopeful look. You managed a smile.

“Right…right there, daddy,” you whimpered out.

Another sound escaped your mouth and flooded his, and Joel couldn’t help it: he kissed you, and he fucked in deeper. He couldn’t have wanted this more if he tried.

His forehead was slick with sweat, as was yours. Your bodies were grinding together—Joel’s soft, warm belly filling the concave space where your spine curved down, and he rutted repeatedly into you, like an animal in heat.

His face was right beside yours as his teeth gritted out:

“My sweet girl want a baby in her for Christmas, that it?”

Again, you whined and rolled your hips against his, nodding your head, and the look in your eyes was wild.

“Baby—please. Please fuck your baby in me, Joel.”

Joel could do more than that. Much more. Ask him for twins, triplets, or however many kids you could’ve wanted, and he would’ve given it to you then.

He wished it were that simple, and he could’ve knocked you up and made you happy a long time ago, but sadly, that hadn’t been in the cards for you two. Joel shortly brushed that thought away, not wanting to lose his momentum or delay the oncoming orgasm about to rattle your body underneath him. He kissed your shoulder this time, thrusting with his stiff, wet cock in just the way you liked, and in seconds, he got what he wanted—what you needed, clearly, as your muscles seized and your lips let out a sharp, shrill cry in response.

Joel held you to him as long as he could. He felt you melt into the bed and only held your body tighter, rutting his hips at their relentless pace to keep your pleasure alive. He heard you whine, tell him to cum inside me, daddy, please, and from that point on, he sensed he’d have to slow a little. It couldn’t be helped. When he came, he had to pin you down and fill you completely—take his time working his spend inside your needy, pulsing cunt, and when he was done, just keep you there. Let you feel him. It was a satisfaction unlike any other for you both, and it was one he’d come to love these last few months. He stilled inside you, feeling his cum coating every inch of your walls around him, and he grinned. You let out a sigh.

“So I…I made the ‘Nice’ list, Mr. Clause?” you panted.

Joel’s head dropped to yours in a short, rumbling laugh.

His dick twitched inside you, and his belly growled a bit. He definitely should’ve taken you up on those cookies.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d say we’re square,” he breathed back.

How long you laid like that was anyone’s guess. Joel didn’t bother keeping track of the seconds or the minutes spent splayed out over your body; he only sensed when he was starting to go soft and you wriggled your hips underneath. He shifted and let you flip around.

His cock now completely out and a smile touching your lips as you turned to face him, your gaze flitted to his.

“Can you go get me one of your shirts, please?”

You were also both stark naked, thanks to the lightning-quick stripdown you’d both done the second you’d made it to the bedroom. Though Joel was sleepy, he knew the routine: get you a shirt, get him a clean pair of boxers, and get the two of you off to sleep. It’d been a long day.

“Yes, dear,” he answered dutifully.

He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose before rising. He padded his slow, heavy feet over to the dresser at the opposite end of the room, and he opened the top drawer.

“Second one, please. With the flannels,” you called out.

Okay.

Joel snagged a pair of underwear for himself, then went to the next drawer to get you a flannel to wear, since the scorching heat of your house evidently wasn’t enough to keep you warm. He smiled to himself, about to crack a wiseass comment about you being cold-blooded or something, when the man was obliged to stop. He took one look inside, dropped his boxers, and paused a spell.

When Joel started again, it wasn’t to speak—he just turned and lifted the first thing he saw in the drawer.

“Wha—oh, shoot. I was supposed to wrap that,” you said swiftly, wincing as he held it. Still smiling at him, though.

“Seems a little small to be a gift for me, don’t you think?”

In his grasp was a miniature onesie. Beneath it, in the drawer you’d directed him to, there had been at least four more just like it. All soft, pastel-colored, and small.

Your smile stretched even wider as you shook your head.

“It’s from Maria and Tommy. More of a…future present, for the two of us,” you shrugged, pushing to sit up in bed.

Joel eyed you a moment. He wasn’t sure what to say.

On your face, he saw hope and excitement etched bright. Like you were fine to keep waiting on this ‘future,’ no matter the duration. One glimpse of that and Joel felt a lump the size of his fist in his throat. He walked over.

And it had to be the last thing you wanted to see, surely—him setting the onesie down, dropping beside you in bed, then fumbling gracelessly, uselessly, to hold you.

Feeling every bit the remorseful, too-old man who couldn’t give you what you wanted. He wanted it, too.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he blurted out, unthinking. He pulled you to his chest; within his own, his heart was pounding, “I know…I know it’s taking us awhile. That’s my fault—”

“Joel.”

“My cum’s as old as dust and that’s probably why—”

“You don’t—”

“—you aren’t pregnant yet. I know it’s frustrating for—”

“Seriously, Joel—”

“—you to deal with. All of that disappointment, I mean—”

“JOEL.”

“What?”

His pulse was still thudding away. You blinked once.

Then, in a slow but deliberate path, your gaze trailed over to the nightstand. Joel’s followed after in similar fashion.

“You still haven’t opened your present,” you said. Stern.

It wasn’t the tone Joel had been expecting to hear at all.

And when you handed him the box, he felt his blood pressure spike. Absently, he thought that couldn’t be safe for a man his age. He couldn’t even tell what it held, and still, the prospect of it had him anxious beyond words. He turned it over; something rattled inside.

‘Go on, Joel.’ Your voice coaxed him gentler then.

And he did, though his fingers trembled some.

The weight in his grip could’ve been an ounce, a pound, or a ton, and his hands would’ve shaken all the same. Joel felt a current pulse through him as he slid the lid off.

Then he just stared.

His eyes widened.

“That’s…”

“Exactly what I have been trying to give you all night!” You laughed. The sound was light, not derisive or cruel.

When he looked up to you, your cheeks were as full and high as he’d seen them all day—you were smiling so big.

That made him think that this wasn’t a joke. Or a dream.

Surely his brain couldn’t have contrived both the most perfect, blinding smile on your face and a slim, white, pink-capped little stick with a ‘+’ on the screen at once.

It still hadn’t hit him completely, though, so he blinked.

“Really?” His voice was hoarse. Vacillating.

“Really.” Yours was more certain. Happy.

And, while the truth of it was slow to seep in, Joel knew he couldn’t waste another moment. He didn’t think—just pulled you in and squeezed you to him as tight as a vice. He couldn’t think—the rush of his blood in his ears and the puffs of your breath and the clatter of that positive pregnancy test in its box, discarded, were all too much.

As soon as he squeezed, your next breath was a sob.

“I meant to tell you, Joel. I meant to. I’m…I’m sorry.”

Your confession came out muffled against his chest, though Joel heard it all with total clarity. In a blink, he had you drawn back a little, just so he could hold your face and search your gaze with his own in a wide look.

Before he could even speak, he saw the tears welling up, as if coming from nowhere. You were still trying to smile.

“It’s been weeks. Since…since my period. I just—” With a wince that could’ve shredded Joel’s insides in two, you went on, “—I couldn’t stand disappointing you again.”

The same way he’d felt. Why you couldn’t tell him.

“Baby, hey, no— no. No, no, no. Please don’t say that.”

It was all Joel could do to keep his own emotions at bay.

“After the last time, and the— and the way you looked so happy at the thought of being a dad, I…I…had to be sure. Maria got me a test, and we triple-checked.” You sniffled.

Moving to wipe at tears as if any of this was your fault. Joel’s thumbs only grew more fervent in their path to smear the moisture away, and his head kept shaking back and forth—‘No, sweetheart, that’s not on you. Don’t even think that. Come here.’—as he tried to be a comfort. He couldn’t be happier. He hoped you were too. While tears engulfed his hands, he hoped you would be.

Even if his bones were old and his knees were weaker than he wanted them to be; even if you couldn’t count on two hands how many years stretched out between you and the decades made it seem like forever to the people in town. Even if this baby was the first, and last, you had.

Joel just wanted you happy.

It was all he could ask to have.

“We’re gonna be parents,” you said, half in awe.

You blinked harder and more tears slid down, but the look behind them was brighter. Your eyes were on his.

“We’re gonna be parents,” Joel repeated, “You and me.”

Then he pinched your puffy, wet cheeks, pictured a baby that looked the tiniest bit like you, and he had to lean in. He kissed slower than he meant to—had to savor you.

A baby.

His baby.

Your eyes were a little wider when he pulled away.

“Happy with your present, daddy?” you teased.

Joel blinked, and he thought of the dozen-odd boxes he had laid out under the tree downstairs—all for you to unwrap in the morning—and he realized then that you had him soundly beat in the gift department that year. Though none of what he’d bought could even hope to hold a candle to what you’d given him tonight, there were still ways to try and make it up. Say thank you.

“I love my present. And I love you.” Joel answered softly.

And just as you smiled, were about to slide back under the covers and tell him you loved him just as much, he grabbed your ankle. Started to lower himself after you.

Your eyes widened more.

“Joel Miller.”

His smirk widened right back.

“One more present before bed?”

You might’ve rolled your eyes, but you let him climb over you just the same. You felt his weight shift over yours, sensed a familiar stir in the depths of your body, and peered up to meet a matching smile you knew you’d find.

Joel was beaming from ear to ear like this was the luckiest day he’d lived to see. Like he couldn’t wait to show how glad he was to be a dad—over and over again.

“Just wanna make sure we made it…stick, y’know?”

He was grinning now. Gently laying you down.

You sighed, smiled, and spread your legs.

“Too late. You’re stuck with me, Miller.”

“Yeah? I like the sound of that.”

“What?”

“Stuck.”

[oneforthemunny]

iscador |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|

prompt: eddie thinks mistletoe is stupid. you put in place a new 'tradition' to make it more interesting. to boost his christmas spirit, of course.

apart of my holiday series munny's merriest <3

contains: smut minors dni. dom/sub themes and undertones (but not too many in this work this ones more cutesy and sweet and silly lol). oral male receiving. dom!eddie/ sub!reader. brat!reader. brat tamer!eddie ofc. eddie is a scrooge and reader loves christmas lol. really sweet and silly.

“Eddie! Can you come here?” 

The trill in your tone had him wincing, eyes pinching closed, fist still closed around the pencil, rubbing his knuckles against the center of his forehead. Eddie had managed to drown out the obnoxious Jackson 5 Christmas tape you’d mutilated his beloved boombox with. He just wanted to finish the campaign. 

“Eddie!” Sharper now, your voice held an agitated bark that had him groaning in annoyance, head tipping back towards the ceiling- the only place in the trailer that seemed void of your holiday cheery. 

“What?” Eddie snapped, slamming the pencil on his small wooden desk, shoving the chair back on the carpet. His feet were already falling in hard, sock clad steps towards the living room, brows still in a furrow under his bangs. 

He found you standing on a kitchen chair, drug under the door frame that led from the kitchen to the living room, balancing in your socks, holding a small, felt mistletoe to the top of the door frame. 

“I need the hammer and the nail.” Your bottom lip jutted gently, eyes rounding sweetly towards him. “I left it on the table. Will you get it for me?” 

Eddie huffed but still trudged towards the kitchen. “Get down, alright?” A ringed hand patted your hip gently, offering up to you to help you down. 

“Why?” You frowned. “You can squeeze by.” Your head jerked towards the sliver of space between the chair and the wooden frame. 

“I know but I don’t want you to fall, baby.” Eddie squeezed the flesh of your hip lightly. “Don’t really want you to bust your head open trying to hang this shit up.” 

You huff, hand sliding into his, stepping off the chair with the felt mistletoe still in hand. “It’s not shit.” You glare at him, moving the chair out of the way, so he can slide through and retrieve the hammer and nail. “You better quit talking bad about my decorations, Munson, before you get coal in your stocking.” 

Eddie snorted, eyes rolling. “You gonna put coal in my stocking?” 

“Not me,” Your lips curled in a smirk you tried to swallow, leaning against the door frame. “Santa will.” 

Eddie let out a bark of a laugh, twisting the small nail around his fingertips. “Oh no,” He played along, though his voice was dripping in sarcasm. “I guess I better shape up then.” 

“Mhm,” You sighed, tongue running over the inside of your cheek, lidded eyes watching his shirt ride up when he lifted the nail, centering it over the door frame. A sliver of his tummy peeking under the soft cotton hem, boxer band peeking out in a nearly teasing way. 

“Right there?” Eddie’s tongue poked out, holding the nail in concentration. 

“Baby,” Eddie grunted, an edge of irritation in his tone that had your gaze snapping back to him. “Right there?” 

“Uh, yeah, yeah that’s fine.” You swallowed the pooling saliva in your mouth, cheeks hot with fluster you hoped Eddie couldn’t see. “That looks good.” 

He didn’t, you thought, as Eddie hammered the nail into place, his hand twisting to extend towards you, fingers wiggling for the felt mistletoe in your sweaty palms. 

“There,” Eddie stepped back, hands on his hips, looking up at the hung decoration. “How’s that look?” 

You couldn’t care less about the decoration anymore, teeth pulling at your bottom lip, rolling it in thought. “Looks good.” You hummed, eyes trailing down his frame, towards his sweatpant clad ass. “Thank you, baby.” 

Eddie turned, brows furrowed at your dreamy tone. “No problem, sweetheart.” He muttered, setting the hammer back on the kitchen table. 

You stepped under the frame before he could pass back through, a devious little grin, that he was too familiar with, spread tight across your lips. “What’re you doin’?” Eddie huffed lightly with a lifted brow. “I helped you, now, I gotta go finish my campaign-” 

“-Look,” You grinned, nodding upwards, towards the felt mistletoe that hung above you both. “Hm, what a coincidence that we’re both here. Underneath the mistletoe. Must be fate.” 

Eddie’s lips curled, though he gave you an exaggerated eye roll. “Must be.” He muttered, hand sliding over your face, cupping your jaw. Your heart fluttered with excitement, fist balling at his shirt when he pulled you in, lips pressing to yours- but only for a moment. 

Your eyes flew open, fist still tightly wrapped around his shirt, mouth gaping with shock when he pulled away. “There. Is that the magical Christmas kiss you were wanting, sweetheart?” Eddie mocked lightly. 

You blinked up at him, scoffing after a moment. “You call that a kiss?” 

“What?” 

“What was that?” You lifted a brow, snarling up at him. “A kiss? That was not a kiss.” 

“Baby, please,” Eddie sighed, running a tired hand over his eyes. 

“No,” You shook your head, arms crossing over your chest. “You freaked out on me when I pecked you at your show a couple months ago because it wasn’t a proper kiss, and now, the one place you’re supposed to give me a real kiss, you don’t?” 

You ignored his eye roll and the short, irritated huff he gave. “We’re literally under the mistletoe!” 

“Ok? So what?” Eddie snapped, throwing his hands up. “I kissed you. That was a kiss.” 

“That was not-” 

“-Don’t.” Eddie pointed a finger at you. “It’s just- It’s just a silly tradition thing tha-that I don’t think is supposed to be taken so seriously.” He threw his hands out. 

You glared at him, brow lifting in challenge. “Hm,” Your lips twisted. “I think it should be taken seriously.” 

“Really?” Eddie deadpanned. 

“Yes,” You hummed in defiance. “And I think you should take it seriously too, and I think I’m going to make you.” 

“Make me?” Eddie snorted in surprised disbelief. “You’re gettin’ pretty bold there, baby, you better watch it.” 

Your tummy flipped with heat, tensing to keep yourself from squirming under his darkened glare. “No, I know I can make you.” You challenged. “At least make you appreciate it more.” 

“Yeah? How’re you gonna do that?” Eddie leaned against the doorframe, glaring at you down the slope of his nose. 

You glared back at him, eyes locking with his just enough to have his spine straightening, bristled by your defiant attitude and ready to adjust it. You could see him, sense his growing agitation with your brattiness, teetering towards acting on it with the way his hands twitched. He’d just begun to uncross his arms when you dropped to your knees, your eyes on him the entire time. 

“What-What are you-” Eddie’s words caught in his throat, strangled by the gasp of breath that tore from his lungs when you yanked his sweatpants down, tugging them down with his boxers in one quick movement. 

You broke eye contact with him for a second, tongue running over your bottom lip as you looked at his cock hanging in front of you, semi-hard from the excitement your brattiness had brought. Your thighs pressed together, hands still on his thighs, squeezing the flesh lightly. 

“What do you think you’re doin’, hm?” Eddie’s voice was tight, swallowing back a shivered moan at the sight of you, face centimeters from his cock, so close he could feel your breath. 

“Making you like the mistletoe.” You hummed so sweetly it made Eddie’s knees weak, eyes rounded and blinking up at him. Oh, how he ached, craved for you to touch him. 

“That right?” Eddie said around a shaky breath he tried to conceal. “This a new tradition, hm?” 

You nodded, fingertips ghosting over his skin, trailing down the bush of pubic hair with a teasing, featherlight touch towards his cock. “Until you’re ready to fully embrace the mistletoe tradition,” You purred, the pad of your thumb brushing over his tip. “I figured this will help ease you into it. Really get you into the holiday spirit.” 

“Fuck,” Eddie grunted, mind blanking with any sarcastic, teasing remark he once had when your tongue licked a long, slow stripe on the underside of his cock. Tongue flattening until you reached the top, taking just the tip in your mouth. 

“Look at me,” Eddie said between clenched teeth, both his hands on either side of your head, desperate to regain a little bit of control. 

Your eyes moved up to him, cheeks hollowed as you bobbed, slowly enough that it had Eddie swallowing a whine. Your nails dug into the fat of his hips, steadying yourself as you swallowed him further and further down your throat. 

“Holy shi-it,” Eddie’s voice cracked, head tilting back and toes curling when you gagged gently, the tip brushing the back of your throat. “Baby, fuck- keep doin’ that. Feels s’good, so fuckin’ good.” 

One hand slipped from his hips, cupping his balls gently, giving a soft squeeze that had Eddie groaning, whimpering with pleasure. Your hand slipped around his length, pumping him slowly, head ducking under to lick down the seam of his sac, wrist flicking and twisting his cock- exactly how he liked it. You knew exactly what he liked, what drove him crazy and left him begging for more. 

“You gotta- Baby, I-I’m close.” Eddie’s breath was ragged, his grip tightening on either side of your head. 

Your mouth took the place of your hand, eyes fluttering back up to him, cheeks hollowing as you sucked the tip of his cock. Eddie sucked a breath in, tensing with pleasure as he teetered closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

“Put your tongue out, now.” Eddie gritted, moving his hand to grab his own length. “Open up, all the way out- good girl.” 

You nearly whimpered at his praise, tongue folded over your chin, eyes still trained on him as he jacked his length furiously, cheeks reddening with splotchy heat until you felt the thick, hot ropes of cum on your tongue. 

Eddie’s head was spinning, cloudy with pleasure as he slumped against the doorframe, chest filled with ragged breaths that rattled his core. He didn’t even try to hide the loud groan that spilled out when you swallowed, eyes batting up at him sweetly, still on your knees. 

“Fuck, that was…” Eddie wiped his brow, sweaty and prickling with heat under his bangs. “Ok, I-I think I’m starting to get the mistletoe thing, baby.” 

“Yeah?” You purred, standing slowly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand- it made Eddie’s knees weak. “You like this better than the kiss?” 

“Yes.” Eddie nodded leaving you giggling. “Still might need some more convincing though. Still on the fence.” 

“Are you? That wasn’t good enough?” You lifted a brow. 

“No, no, that was fucking amazing, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head frantically. “Just… I don’t know, I’m kinda a Scrooge. Might need just a few more times to really get me into the spirit, ya know?” 

“Hm,” Your lips twisted playfully. “I think I could maybe do that.” 

Eddie grinned, positively beaming and silly, gooey with adoration. His hands reached out for you again, cupping your cheek, the back of your head, pulling you into him, bodies flushed and lips crashing into yours. You squealed gently, giggling when he pressed you against the doorframe, smooching you sloppy and sweet and filled with so much love it left you dizzy. A much more passionate kiss than before. 

Your eyes were shining when Eddie pulled back, his breath caught in his throat at the sight; you always had that effect on him. “See? It’s working already.” You grinned. “That was a real kiss.” 

Your smile and giggles were infectious, leaving Eddie’s own lips curling, chest bubbling with affectionate laughs. “That was better?” 

“Much better.” You nodded, hands sliding down his arms. “Much more festive.” 

Eddie pulled you into his chest, squeezing you in a tight hug. He wanted to press your body into his, push so tightly into the two of you fused together, bodies and souls and minds all intertwined into one. Instead he held you, peppering kisses to your cheeks so you squealed and laughed. His eyes caught the small felt decoration above the door frame, lips curling in a smug grin. 

He really was enjoying the mistletoe, already contemplating going out and buying one for each door frame in the house- hell, even one for over the bed. Eddie Munson’s favorite decoration was now the mistletoe, so much so that he wanted to keep it out year round. 

[teaboot]

now name as many movies as you can think of >:)

Murder on the Orient Express, Crank, Jumper, Inception, Nope, John Wick, The Lord of the Rings, Monkeybone, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, The English Patient, Thumbleina, Cinderella, Ella Enchanted, The Princess Diaries, Red Note, Enchanted, Alvin and the Chipmunks, Anastasia, Journey to the Center of the Rarth, The Lego Movie, Barbie, Oppenheimer, Face/Off, The Fast and The Furious, Bullet Train, Howard the Duck, Guardians of the Galaxy, Avengers, Captain America, The Hulk, Iron Man, X-Men Origins, Deadpool, Rear Window, The Godfather, Monty Pithon and the Holy Grail, Indiana Jones, Star Wars, Stardust, Star Trek, Batman, Superman, Spider-Man, Catwoman, Daredevil, Toy Story, Turning Red, Inside Out, It, Requiem, Saw, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Carrie, Evil Dead, The Day After Tomorrow, Planet of the Apes, Jaws, Shark Tale, Pinocchio, Snow White, Ferngully, The Wizard of Oz, Arthur and the Invisibles, Babes in Toyland, The Emporer’s New Groove, Despicable Me, Minions, Rlemental, Frozen, Bad Santa, Blazing Saddles, The Grinch, Fist of Fury, The White Ninja, Crouching Toger Hidden Dragon, Austin Powers, Black Dynamite, Schindler’s List, 1000 Ways To Die in the West, Casa Blanca, Eragon, The Master of Disguise, Holmes, Holmes and Watson, The Land Before Time, Bridge to Terrabithea, The Waterhorse, Finding Nemo, Finding Dory, Happy Feet, Wonder Woman, Kingsmen, Constantine, The Sister Act, Ghost, Ghostbusters, Beetlejuice, Ernest Saves Christmas, Rudolph The Red-Nosed Raindeer, Chuck, Child’s Play, Twitches, The Blair Witch Project, 47 Ronin, Trolls, The Mask, The Secret Life of Pets, Sing, Saving Private Ryan, War Horse, Black Beauty, Mad Max, Dune, Water World, James Bond, The Hobbit, Sonic The Hedgehog, Babe, Detective Pikachu, Mulan, Brave, Crazy Tich Asians, Legally Blonde, 50 Shades of Grey, Titanic, Teo-Headed Shark Attack, Sharknado, Antlamtic Rim, Pacific Rim, World War Z, Contagion, Pride and Prejudice, Pretty Woman, Seven Brides For Seven Brothers, Romeo and Juliet, Hitchcock, I Am Legend, I Am Number Four, The Lightning Thief, Prince of Thieves, Robin Hood, The Frog Princess, Gigli, Rise of the Guardians, Hop, Click, The Transporter, Pineapple Express, Sons of Anarchy, Inglorious Bastards, The Sound of Music, Mary Poppins, Peter Pan, Power Rangers, Rogue One, Interstellar, 2001 A Space Odyssey, Space Balls, Alien, Predator, The Terminator, Robocop, Moonlight, The Tigger Movie, Around The World In 80 Days, The Love Guru, Don’t Mess With the Zohar, The Mighty Ducks, 101 Dalmatians, Cruella, Django Unchained, Rago, Hotel Transelvvania,

The Mummy, Mermaids, The Breakfast Club, sixteen candles, Clueless, Nine, Fantastic Mr. fox, Wallace and Gromit, Hellsing, The Brothers Grimm, Tangled, Arachnophobia, Anaconda, Hansel and Gretel, Hoodwinked, Angry Birds, Kung Fu Panda, Rio, The Muppet Movie, Scrooged, A Christmas Carol, Nightmare before Christmas, The Corpse Bride, James and the Giant Peach, Coraline, Alice in Wonderland, Dumbo, Home Alone, Dennis the Menace, War with Grandpa, The Parent Trap, Cheaper by the Dozen, Christmas with the Cranks, Mixed Nuts, Home for the Holidays, Meet The Fockers, Cats VS Dogs, Good Boy, Castaway, George of the Jungle, The Mitchell’s VS the Machines, King Kong, Godzilla, Eraserhead, Frank, Pirates of the Caribbean, Elizabethtown, The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Wall-E, Serendipity, Mamma Mia, The Secret of Nim, Brother Bear, Aladdin, Spy Kids, Ready Player 1, Weekend at Bernie's, The Matrix, Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, Rosebud, Young Frankenstein, Igor, Prince of Persia, Mission Impossble, Chocolate, The Haunted Mansion, Doctor Dolittle, Goosebumps, The Happening, Old, Plane, The Crying Game, 147 Hours, Narnia, Crampus, Pet Semetary, The Ring, It Follows, Teeth, The Human Centipede, Tusk, The Thing, The Blob, The Creature from the Nlack Lagoon, Abraham Lincoln: Zombie Slayer, Sharknado, Sharktopus, Nazis at the center of the Earth, Santa VS The Martians, Space Jam, Final Destination, The SpongeBob Movie, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Mr: Magoriums Wonder Emporium, Willy Wonka, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Wonka, Zombieland, The Simpson Movie, War of the Worlds, The Twilight Zone movie, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th, Scream, March of the Penguins, LILO and Stitch, The Brave Little Toaster, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, The Dark Crystal, Clockwork Orange, Sully, six underground, The Proposal, The Bodyguard, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Dirty Dancing, Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid, Air Bud, The Silence of the Lambs, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Splice, The Edge of Tomorrow, The Last Holiday, Wet Hot American Summer, Police Academy, American Pie, Revenge of the Nerds, Amelie, La Chorale, Ratatouille, Inspector Gadget, Serenity, Ultraviolet, Annie, Charlotte’s Web, Air Buddies, Baby Geniuses, Catch Me if you Can, Now you See Me, Salt, London Has Fallen, Ender’s Game, The Hunger Games, Little Rascals, Fat Albert, Precious, The Whale, Gulliver’s Travels, School of Rock, Zathura, Jumanji, Flubber, Dead Poet’s Society, Get Out, Us, Piranha, Road Trip, Kangaroo Jack, Crocodile Dundee, Nanny McPhee, The Bee Movie, Ants, A Bug’s Life, The Lion King, The Aristocats, Homeward Bound, A Dog’s Purpose, Mr. poppers Penguins, Blood Diamond, House of Flying Daggers, Dragon Wars, Croczilla, What’s Eating Gilbert Grape, Life of Pi

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Agreee's Library

Emoji Key: SFW 🤍 | NSFW ❤️ | Angst 🖤 | Fluff 🩷

feat. Wizarding World, MCU, Stranger Things, & more!

Wizarding World

George Weasley

A Weekend At The Weasley's ❤️🩷

The No-Dating Rule ❤️🩷

A Christmas Gift 🖤🤍

'A Madness Most Discreet' Series (part 1) ❤️🖤

Bill Weasley

'Magic Lessons' Series (part 1, part 2, part 3) ❤️🖤

Charlie Weasley

'Best Friends Brother' Series (part one, part two) ❤️🩷

1000 Secrets 🤍🖤

Draco Malfoy

Bad Santa ❤️🖤🩷

Flutterby Baby ❤️🖤🩷

Sirius Black

'Hit Me Where It Hurts The Most' Series (part one, part two, part three, part four) ❤️🖤

The Black Dog and His Bluebird ❤️🖤🩷

Regulus Black

Barty Crouch Jr.

What's My Name? ❤️🖤

1000 secret kisses ❤️🩷

I Wanna Be Yours ❤️🖤🩷

James Potter

Work For It ❤️

Remus Lupin

1000 Inked Scars ❤️🖤🩷

Wolfstar

Lockjaw ❤️

Jegulus

Seducing A Scrooge ❤️🩷

Rosekiller

What Is This Feeling? LOATHING 🖤🤍🩷

Drarry

Freefall (roommates!au) ❤️🖤

MCU

Steve Rogers

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart ❤️🖤

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington

Blue Christmas ❤️🖤🩷

1000 Glances 🩷

Eddie Munson

Christmas Karaoke ❤️🩷

The Tortured Fangirl's Department Series

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart (Steve Rogers x assassin!reader) ❤️🖤

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys (Paul Lahote x human!reader) [part one, part two] ❤️🖤

How Did It End? (Gale Dekarios x fem!Tav) 🖤🤍

Misc.

Thanksgiving In Baldur's Gate (Gale Dekarios x Tav) 🩷🤍

Published Work

The Raith Brothers Trilogy

Memento Amore

Memento te Aurum

Memento Sentire - Coming Soon!

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[fluentmoviequoter]

The Best Present

hot cocoa bar celebration🧤❄️🎄

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!(implied cop)!reader

Summary: You want to ask Tim to be your date to a Christmas party, but he's going with another woman. When you're caught under the mistletoe together, you give Tim more than a present.

Warnings/Word Count: fluff, brief angst. 1.2k+ words

“Tim!” you call as you exit the locker room. When he stops and turns toward you, you smile and ask, “Can we talk?”

Tim begins to nod but is interrupted by Angela reminding everyone of the Evers-Lopez Christmas party tonight. As she tells the surrounding officers about the gift exchange, food, and fun she and Wesley have planned, your eyes stray to Tim. It has taken over a week to convince yourself it isn’t a terrible idea, and now you’re ready to ask Tim to go with you to the party. Your fingers tap nervously against your hip, though you’re oblivious to Tim’s repeated glances at you.

“Who’s bringing a date?” Angela inquires. “I need to make sure we have enough food.”

“And mistletoe?” Nyla guesses.

“I don’t even know what that is,” Angela deflects. “Dates? Timothy?”

“Yeah, I’m bringing someone,” Tim answers.

Angela’s jaw drops as you and everyone else swing your head to look wide-eyed at him. She had been kidding when she called him out specifically and certainly didn’t expect him to say he had a date. Tim says her name and where they met, but you can’t hear anything over your heart pounding and a week’s worth of doubts swirling.

“You said you wanted to talk?” Tim remembers as the surprise diminishes and people begin leaving the station.

“Yeah…” you answer. “It can wait, though. Enjoy your date.”

You could’ve still asked him or told him the truth of what you wanted to talk about, but it’s easier this way. You’ll be at the same party. Tim with his date and you with what’s left of your Christmas cheer and a heart crushed like peppermint.

Tucked into a corner with one of Lucy’s Christmas cookies, you watch the party from a safe distance. Tim’s date is gorgeous, as you expected, and you fight to keep your attention away from them.

“Hey,” Lucy greets as she approaches your safe haven. You send her a close-lipped smile, and she lays her hand on your shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Nothing worth talking about,” you say. “These cookies are amazing by the way. Peppery ginger snaps, who knew?”

“My aunt. But, seriously, if you decide you want to talk, you know where to find me.”

“I do. Go enjoy the party.”

“As long as you do, too. I’m getting your gift during Dirty Santa and if Tim even thinks about stealing it, I’ll tell Angela about his bad attitude last week.”

“I think I’d like to see that.”

Lucy sends you a heart with her hands, and you finish the last bite of your cookie. Walking through Angela’s house to either get another or throw away your plate (you’ll decide when you get there), you keep your eyes down until your shoulder bumps into someone.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, looking up.

“You’re on a mission,” Tim muses. “There’s no more cookies, but if you’re nice to Nyla, she might tell you where she’s hiding them.”

“I could just get something else,” you murmur, thinking it would be easier to get someone else, but you want Tim.

“Uh, guys?” Nolan interrupts. “You’re under the mistletoe.”

Tim tips his head back and spots the green leaves hanging sneakily above a doorframe. You shake your head at Nolan, but he waves Angela over despite your protests.

“It’s tradition!” she argues. “You have to!”

“Yes!” Lucy agrees when she realizes where you are. “Kiss!”

Several of your friends cheer, and you shake your head again.

“Don’t be such a Scrooge!” Lucy tells Tim.

“I knew you were going to say that,” Tim complains.

“Tim, you’re here with a date,” you remind him softly.

Tim clicks his tongue, then raises his hands to the sides of your neck and jaw. “We have no choice,” he points out.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you lean in and kiss Tim. The noise of the party fades as you grip Tim’s waist and move with him. When Tim pulls back, you notice that the crowd beside you has dissipated.

“Where’s, uh…” you begin.

“My date?” Tim guesses with a barely contained smile.

“Yeah.”

“She left ten minutes in, decided this wasn’t her scene – her words.”

“How is a Christmas party not someone’s scene?”

Tim shrugs, and you apologize for his bad date.

“It worked out,” Tim replies.

“Gift time!” Angela yells from the living room.

You find a place on a small loveseat by Tim and watch as the white elephant gift exchange begins. After the moment beneath the mistletoe, a feeling of magic lingers within you. You must tell Tim about your feelings for this to go beyond Christmas.

“Don’t get attached to that,” Nolan says as Wesley opens an expensive tool set.

Laying your head on Tim’s shoulder, you don’t feel him freeze beneath you. He watches you laugh with his friends, content in an environment – his environment – when his date couldn’t even tolerate walking past the cookie table. As Tim relaxes, welcoming you into his space, and feels the same warmness he had while kissing you, he unknowingly gives you his heart. You give him yours in return, and it’s the best gift exchange you’ve ever participated in.

Lucy opens your gift and squeals before tucking it under her sweater.

“I’m stealing that, so make it a little easier to get to,” Tim warns her.

“No!” Lucy exclaims. “Angela, Tim yelled at me last week.”

“She can’t save you now,” Tim tells Lucy. “I need that one.”

“Why?” Angela asks, raising her eyebrows as she glances toward you.

“You’re a detective, Lopez, figure it out.”

“Let me give you a ride home?” Tim asks in your ear.

You nod and accept his hand as you stand. After receiving hugs and gifts from a few friends, you follow Tim outside, and a soft white powder falls from above to greet you.

“Is that what I think it is?” Tim whispers.

Extending your hand, you catch some on your fingers and raise it to your nose. “Only if you think it’s powdered sugar.”

“Chen!” Tim barks. “What are you doing?”

“What?” Lucy asks from behind him. “Is that snow?”

“It’s close enough!” Nyla answers.

“Nyla?” you ask, stepping out into the powdered sugar snow. “Wade?!”

Tim follows you onto the walkway. His eyes widen when he sees his watch commander perched on the roof and spreading fake snow through a sieve.

“Act like I’m not here,” James adds, pouring more sugar into his shaker.

Nyla rolls her eyes and looks at Tim to demand, “Just kiss her again and put us out of our misery before New Year’s.”

You don’t have time to question her command before Tim pulls you in. The door clicks closed as you taste the powdered sugar on Tim’s lips, and you smile against him as the fine confectioner’s treat covers your clothing.

“I was going to ask you to come with me,” you admit, leaning your forehead against Tim’s as his arms wrap around your waist. “Like a date.”

“Raincheck for New Year’s Eve?” Tim suggests.

“Will it be like this?”

“I hope not.”

Nyla scoffs, but you kiss Tim in the makeshift winter wonderland rather than replying. You have been in love with Tim Bradford for longer than the duration of this party, but learning that he loves you too is a Christmas present that will never be topped.

[hoonven]

IS IT NEW YEARS YET?

1.2K ⸺ a christmas hater and a christmas lover find themselves in the kitchen of a cozy apartment, trading sarcasm, small talk, and maybe a little more

PAIRING! yang jungwon x female reader

GENRES! fluff, comedy, frenemies trope

PLAYLIST! is it new years yet? by sabrina carpenter

WARNINGS! reader doesn't like christmas, reader drinks cocoa, mention of food

December is a prison.

Everywhere you look, someone is trying to shove some holiday cheer down your throat. You hate it. The blinding, glittering lights and tinny jingles that cause a headache trying way too hard to convince you that this is the most wonderful time of the year.

The relentless cheer, the endless loop of Mariah Carey in every store, the corny hallmark movies, inflatable Santas, and people pretending eggnog is drinkable and fruitcake is edible. You don’t buy it. For you, December is just another month to survive, one suffocating under an avalanche of forced cheer and bad decisions disguised as tradition. The holiday shoppers, the sweaters, the increase of whining children—it’s all too much.

Yet here you are, trapped in a Christmas Eve party that feels more like a hostage situation. You’d planned on staying home with a glass of wine and a movie that didn’t feature talking reindeer or falling snow, but your friend—if you can even call her that—insisted. And because you have a masochistic streak, or maybe just a lack of willpower, you showed up.

You’ve stationed yourself in the kitchen, it’s quieter here, a sanctuary compared to the crowded living room packed with people you barely know, all laughing too loudly and swapping gifts you’re certain will end up in a landfill by February.

You’ve been hiding out here for the past twenty minutes, nursing a drink and hoping no one will notice your absence. Arms crossed, leaning against the counter, glaring at the glittery centerpiece on the table like it personally offended you.

“Well, if it isn’t our resident holiday killjoy.”

You don't have to look to know who it is. The voice is unmistakable—light, teasing, and annoyingly smug.

Jungwon.

You glance at him anyway, because ignoring him won’t make him go away.

He’s leaning against the doorway, his ridiculous Christmas sweater somehow managing to look good on him. It’s got a snowman with googly eyes, and you want to hate it, but the worst part is you don’t. His grin is as infuriating as always—bright, mischievous, and unbothered, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he takes in your expression that screams don’t talk to me.

“And here I thought you were too busy decking the halls to notice me,” you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

He smirks, stepping into the kitchen like he owns the place. “Oh, I noticed you. You’re kind of hard to miss when you’re the only person in this joint giving off Scrooge energy.”

“I’m not giving off Scrooge energy,” you snap, though you are. “I’m avoiding unnecessary human interaction, which, by the way, you’re currently ruining.”

Jungwon doesn’t take the hint. He never does. Instead, he grabs a cookie off the counter, takes a bite, and leans casually against the counter next to you. “So, what’s the escape plan? Gonna fake a tummy ache or claim you have to leave early because of some elaborate story you clearly just made up?”

You decide not to admit it was the latter, the last thing you need tonight is to prove Jungwon right.

“I was thinking of just walking out,” you say dryly. “No excuses. Just leave.”

He snorts. “Bold move. Very on-brand for you.”

Finally, you turn to face him, narrowing your eyes. “Why are you here, Jungwon? Don’t you have some caroling to do or a snowman to build?”

He grins, unfazed by your sarcasm. “Oh, I’ve already done both. I'm here to check on you, you know, like Cindy Lou Who did for the Grinch?”

“Your heart is two sizes too small,” he says, and proceeds to make the dumbest sad face you've ever seen.

You try to fight the tiny smile tugging at your lips but fail. Jungwon notices, of course, because he notices everything.

“See? I knew you didn't hate Christmas that much,” he says, triumphantly.

You sigh, crossing your arms. “I don’t hate it. I just don’t see the point. It’s loud, obnoxious, and overrated.”

“Or,” he counters, gesturing toward the living room, where people are laughing and exchanging gifts by a sparkling tree. “It's about that.”

You raise an eyebrow, skeptical. But there's a slight tug at your heartstrings as you watch a girl hug her friend with tears pricking her eyes. “What exactly are we looking at?”

He tilts his head, studying you with that irritatingly perceptive gaze of his. “You know, you’re like a walking anti-Christmas PSA. It’s impressive, really.”

You roll your eyes. “And you’ve clearly auditioned for Santa’s favorite elf.”

“Wrong. I’m more of a ‘holiday mischief maker,’” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “And right now, my mission is to annoy you with all the holiday cheer I can possibly muster.”

You glare at him, but there’s no real heat behind it. The worst part is, Jungwon is so annoyingly persistent and unshakably optimistic that part of you almost envies him. Almost.

“It's nice.” you shrug. “But not everyone thinks this season is magical, you know.”

“Ah, I see. You’re one of those people who hates Christmas because it never lives up to the hype.”

You pause, caught off guard by how easily he’s summed you up. “It’s not about the hype,” you say finally, avoiding his gaze. “It’s about how empty it all feels. Everyone’s running around acting like this one day is supposed to fix everything, but it doesn’t. We’ll all go back to our regular lives the next day like none of it ever happened.”

He doesn’t respond right away, and for a second, you think you’ve actually managed to scare him off. But then he leans closer, his voice softer now, less playful. “You know what I think? I think you’re trying so hard not to care that you’ve forgotten how to let yourself enjoy the small stuff.”

You blink at him, thrown by the sudden sincerity in his tone. “And you’re suddenly the expert on what I need?”

“Not an expert,” he says, his grin returning. “Just observant.”

He gestures toward the party again. “Look, I get it. The holidays can be a lot. But they can also be kind of great, if you let them. Like right now—this could be one of those moments you look back on, and it’s not about the decorations or the music. It’s just… people. Being together. Isn’t that worth something?”

You arch an eyebrow. “Do you hear yourself right now? You sound like a Hallmark movie character.”

“And you sound like someone who’s never actually tried to enjoy Christmas,” he shoots back, smirking.

You snort, shaking your head. “I can't believe people really believe all that.”

“Well, I do.” He holds up his cookie like a toast. “And by the end of the night, I’m betting I’ll convince you too.”

“Well, don’t hold your breath,” you say, reaching for the mug of cocoa that was surprisingly still warm and taking a sip. It’s too sweet, just like everything else tonight, but somehow, with Jungwon standing there, it doesn’t feel quite as unbearable.

And for a moment, you let yourself enjoy it.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a wink. “I’m patient.”

“Good luck with that,” you mutter, but there’s a faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips now, one you can’t quite suppress.

Jungwon notices, of course. He always does. You imagine he always will. And as much as you hate to admit it, you’re kind of glad he came into the kitchen.

December was a bore, and you were sick and tired of this holiday, but small talk in the kitchen with Yang Jungwon wasn't half bad.

© 2024 hoonven, all rights reserved. i do not give permission to modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize my works on any platform. NETWORK! @kstrucknet

[mrsriddlenott]

12 Days Of SmutMas

18+ Only!! My first Fic Event!!!!!

I am literally so excited to do this bc I wanted to do an October/Halloween event but didn’t have the time so I hope you guys are excited with meee!!!!

These fics will start coming out on the 5th and 6th, (I’m giving the first 4 days to see what requests I get), then every other day until Christmas Eve with the last one coming out on Christmas Day👏👏

[Requests Closed]

1. First Christmas ~ James Potter 12/5/23

Summary: You and James have your first Christmas in your new flat together. You two have fun buying new decorations and deciding where they’ll go while getting distracted in every room you put them in.

2. Christmas Movie Marathon ~ JJ Maybank 12/6/23

Summary: You, JJ, and the Pogues spend Christmas together in the chateau watching all your favorite holiday movies, until your mischievous boyfriend gets bored and wants to distract you as well.

3. Family Christmas ~ [closed] Theodore Nott & Mattheo Riddle 12/8/23

Summary: Theo brings you and Mattheo to his family’s Christmas dinner for the first time making you a nervous wreck, desperate to make a good impression. The boys notices your anxiety and decide to help you with your nerves in Theo’s bathroom before you eat with his family.

4. Santa Clause Is Coming To Town ~ Klaus Mikaelson 12/10/23

Summary: When Klaus mysteriously returns from New Orleans, the Mystic Falls gang worries about what he’s planning, though his only plan is to convince you to join him for Christmas in The Big Easy, by any means necessary. Starting with lavish gifts, attention, and affections, and ending with his mouth wherever you wish it.

5. Decorate With Me ~ [closed] Mattheo Riddle 12/12/23

Summary: Alpha!Mattheo is too lazy to decorate the house for the holiday’s, thinking it useless, you however entice him to decorate one thing at a time as you strip for him, teasing him and escaping his grasp until all that’s left to do is place the ornaments on the tree, leaving him to decorate you.

6. Secret Santa ~ bsf!Sirius Black 12/14/23

Summary: Sirius gets your name for Secret Santa and decides to prank you by having you open a dildo in front of all your friends. However, he’s shocked and flustered when you jokingly say you’re grateful and you’ll need it since your sex life is stale. In private, Sirius tells you he’d like to change that.

7. Stocking Stuffers ~ [closed] Mattheo Riddle & Theodore Nott 12/16/23

Summary: Insanely horny Mattheo and Theo help you decorate for Christmas in your cute holiday themed outfit and hear you refer to putting gifts in their stocking as needing to stuff their stockings, and can’t help but get distracted by the idea of stuffing your stickings with a gift too.

8. Scrooge ~ Rafe Cameron 12/18/23

Summary: Rafe never had much Christmas spirit, luckily his girlfriend absolutely had enough for both of them. Conflicts ensue as you attempt to get him festive, and when he wakes up in a sour mood on Christmas of all days, you’re not having it, giving him a Christmas gift from under the sheets that makes him the most jolly mother fucker in Tanneyhill.

9. You Ruined The Surprise ~ [closed] Anakin Skywalker 12/20/23

Summary: Emperor!Anakin walks in on you wrapping his gifts on Christmas Eve, making you fear the holiday to be ruined, but he reminds you he still gets to wait and unwrap his favorite gift under the tree, you. Leading to a long night of teasing until he can finally unwrap his gift in the morning.

10. Office Party ~ boss!Bucky Barnes x Reader 12/22/23

Summary: Your job’s annual Christmas party is approaching and for the first time since your recent divorce, you will be without a date. Unbeknownst to you your boss and mentor will be facing the same issue, leading to an unforeseen Christmas gift with many consequences.

11. Gingerbread Men ~ [closed] Lorenzo Berkshire 12/24/23

Summary: Dark!Enzo happily helps you decorate your Christmas cookies, laughing as you decorate gingerbread men to look like each other to eat. Enzo jokes that your homemade cookie tastes amazing but no where near as good as the real you, leading to kitchen shenanigans.

12. Christmas In Bed ~ 🎄🎁 12/25/23

Your Last Gift Will Be Opened On Christmas Day☺️😁

Please send Character Requests from any universe 👇below👇 for any of the prompts that are free. I am better at writing m&f smut but I am entirely welcome to any other pairing if I think I’m capable of writing it, poly couples are welcome!!

- HP Universe (any era, fanon&canon characters)

- TVD Universe (any of the 3 series’ characters)

- TWD Universe (main&FTWD characters pref.)

- Outer Banks

- The Umbrella Academy

- Star Wars (main&prequel trilogy pref.)

- Teen Wolf

- Stranger Things (will not write for the main kids)

- Supernatural

- MCU

Requests for this event are open until all free prompts are filled. Please include what relationship the character will have with the reader and the number of the prompt you want them to fill!!

- My Relationship/Smut Request Guidelines -

✅Best Friend x Reader

✅Bsf’s Sibling & Sibling’s Bsf x Reader

✅Friends W/ Benefits

✅New Step Sibling x Reader

✅Teacher/Professor x 18+ Reader

✅Alpha x Omega

✅Dominant x Submissive (hard&soft smut, I’m not good at writing Dom reader but I will try)

✅Power Imbalance (examples: boss,leader,blackmail,corruption kink, etc.)

✅Dark!Character x Reader (examples: obsessed,possessive,criminal, etc.)

❌Real Ince$t

❌Be$tiality

❌Minor x Adult

❌Non/Dub Consent

❌Cheating on or with Reader

~~~~

Taglist (lmk if u want on or off, my main taglist rn is just my HP taglist tbh)

@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess @limeren @h-------n @kezibear @mattheoriddlemarcuslopez @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @curiousshifter101 @tobyr68 @spididerman @hedwigprewett12 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kiwi475

[skzstannie]

“We’d never want you to struggle alone”

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: angst wc: ~2100 cw: mentions of depression and death of family members, hatred for the holidays

Hi guys! Here’s my attempt at some Christmas/holiday angst. The fluffy Part 2 is posted and linked at the bottom of this post!

Feedback and likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated! I haven't got the chance to interact with too many people on here yet, so reach out if you'd like!

Happy scrolling!

"Hey guys, I'm pretty tired. I think I'm gonna head to bed. Chan Oppa, I'm gonna go lay down in your room until everyone's ready to go back to our dorm," you wave off their comments asking you to stay with them and make your way to the leader's bedroom.

It's December 20th, and the guys are all gathered around the television in the 3Racha/Hyunjin dorm, binge watching Christmas movies. During a normal year, you'd all be at your own homes with your families, cozying up to the fireplaces and drinking hot chocolate with your siblings. However, this was no normal year, and your comeback ran too close to the holidays, not allowing you nor the boys to go home for Christmas. Not that you particularly minded; you hated the holidays.

You imagine what you'd be doing at home right now, no doubt curled up in your bed with an exciting romance novel, listening to some dark academia playlist you'd found on YouTube.

But you're not home, you're stuck here with a bunch of Christmas-crazed dorks who have spent the last few weeks decorating your dorms full of all things Santa Claus. You've been managing to sneak away whenever any holiday-esque activities are taking place. You've not told them of your hatred towards the holidays, and you're not really planning to, either, not wanting to be the reason their fun-filled nights are ruined; they're already sad enough about not being able to head home for the holidays, the last thing you want to do is be a scrooge. So, you’ve resorted to humbly excusing yourself, busying yourself with your own activities when the occasion arises.

As you walk into Chan's room, you take notice of all the little trees he has decorating his room. Cute. You pick up the picture of his family he has resting on his nightstand beside his bed. You stare at his mom, dad, siblings, and grandparents smiling faces, feeling the familiarly unavoidable pit in your stomach form.

Your parents and one set of your grandparents passed away in a car wreck about five years ago, before you debuted with the guys. Your other grandparents, your mother's parents, passed away before you were born, never getting the opportunity to meet them. So, that left just you and your brother. Your brother, being a few years older than you, started his own family the summer after your parents passed. He has a beautiful wife and two children now, one boy and one girl. They got right to baby-making after they got married, so excited to start a family of their own. Unfortunately, that family never included you. You only know of their children because you’re mutuals with your sister-in-law on social media.

Your brother essentially ghosted you after his first child was born. You two were never the closest sibling duo, but you never expected him to completely drop you and ignore your existence. But he did, and that's just something you have learned to live with.

You were not in a healthy place after all this happened. You had no one to go to when your heart was breaking, grieving the loss of both your dead and alive family members. You put all your focus into the trainee program, all your sadness and anger towards the world into your dance and song. Chan eventually found you on that one fateful day that you deemed saved your life. You were at the lowest of your low, and you thought you had finally reached your breaking point, but then walked in Christopher Bang Chan, all smiles and laughter. He recruited you to be in his group as one of the first, right after Han. From then on, you had another reason to keep going, to keep fighting.

You've never told the guys this. You have always been a more reserved member, keeping all of your personal life out of the spotlight. While the boys never heard you talk much about your family, really only knowing you have a brother, they always thought that, when you went home for the holidays, you went home to a nice big house filled with love. They thought when you walked in the doors to your childhood home, you were welcomed in by your parents with opened arms, beckoning you in. They thought you spent your Christmas mornings opening nicely wrapped presents, followed by a home-cooked breakfast that'd be shared amongst your family.

They didn't know of the single bedroom apartment you called yours. They didn't know of the bareness that captured your living room, baren of all things Christmas and the lack of Christmas cookies and presents on Christmas Day. They didn't know you've always spent your holidays alone.

Honestly, you were completely fine with their assumptions. You didn't need nor want their pity. Your family was still an incredibly sensitive topic to you. Before their passing, you were so very close. You'd spent every holiday together, enjoying your time as a family, doing all the cliche things. You'd even gone caroling a few times, walking around your childhood neighborhood singing the classic Christmas songs off-key to your friendly neighbors.

Afraid you'd spiral, leading you right back to how you'd been before Chan found you, you never brought it up, and the boys never pushed you to talk about your family. They figured you were normal with a mom, dad, and a loving brother-so what's to talk about?

The holidays have never felt the same; you knew they wouldn't. So why try? Why go through the effort of making yourself a nice Christmas dinner, attending church on Christmas eve and waking up early Christmas morning, when you knew your parents wouldn't be there to greet you. When you knew your grandmother wouldn't be there to give you the biggest hug she could muster in her old age. When your grandfather wouldn't be there to give you a hearty pat on the back, his only true form of physical affection you'd ever experienced in all your years with him.

A quiet knock pulls you out of your thoughts, and in walks Felix with a glass of milk in hand. You quickly set down the picture frame you didn't realize you were still holding and give him a warm smile.

"Hey, what's up?" you ask him, taking the glass from him and sipping on the cold beverage.

"I just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright. You've been pretty distant for a couple weeks now. Is everything ok?"

You're a little caught off guard, this being the first time anyone's noticed your pulling back since the beginning of December. You honesty didn't even realize anyone was paying attention to you, all of them too caught up in the festive activities and excitement of the season.

"Yea, I mean, I'm fine. Just a bit of seasonal depression," you write off his concerns.

"I didn't know you had that," Felix ponders his thoughts for a minute, giving you a loving look. "Is there anything I can do to help? Have you always had seasonal depression?"

While looking into Felix's warm, brown eyes, you decide that keeping all these things from them all these years has been unfair. They're never afraid of sharing their personal struggles with you. You think back to all the times Han's came to you with anxiety, and how you've wanted nothing more than to take away all his worry and pain. How Seungmin's came to you with his insecurities, and you always hyping him up, calling him the most beautiful boy. If any of them had kept their struggling to themselves, it'd crush you. How dare they feel like they couldn't come to you? Why would they want to struggle alone?

You realize that these feelings are most definitely reciprocated by the guys. Now, feeling vulnerable after being left alone with your thoughts for so long, you have the dire urge to come clean about your family.

"Actually Felix, I've been struggling with this for quite some time now. Can you, maybe just, listen? I've never talked to anyone about this, but I want to now. I want you guys to know," you fiddle with your hands, sliding one of your rings on and off your finger.

"Of course! You can always talk to me. Go ahead, I'm listening." He grabs your hand, halting your fidgeting. You look up at him, take a deep breath, and let it all out. Everything you've been holding onto these last few years. It probably sounds like word vomit, all your feelings and hardships falling out of your mouth at lightning speed. You finish your rambling, and you finally have the courage to look up at his face again.

He's crying. Equipped with all the theatrics, the wobbly lip and rosy cheeks. You made Felix cry with all your problems. You reach up to his cheek, wiping a few of his falling tears.

"Ok, I think I'm done," you freeze as Felix also brings his index finger up to your cheek. You flinch when he pulls away, seeing the dampness of it.

You're crying, too. You didn't even realize. I mean, it makes sense. You just trauma dumped all of your troubles onto Felix, the world's most renowned empath, of course you'd be crying.

You guys sit in silence for a minute, before Felix's whimpers become audible. He's so visibly distraught, and your heart breaks even more just at the mere sight of him.

He launches himself at you, clinging to you so tightly you think your ribs may crack. He tackles you back onto the bed, resting on top of you.

"Why did you never tell us this?" his sobs wreck through his body, his arms trembling around you, "We could've helped you."

"I was scared," you wriggle one of your arms free of his embrace, using it to affectionately run your hand through his hair. Your sobs join together as one, both of you a mess. "I was scared you guys would pity me, or look at me less. I was scared that I'd spiral again if I talked about it."

"Well, we're here now, Jagiya." He sits up after a few minutes. His cries have quieted, and so have yours. "We aren't going to let you continue going through this alone, ya know. We are one, and if one of us is hurting, we're all hurting. Please don't keep things like this from us anymore." He begs, standing from the bed. He grabs your hand and pulls you up, making his way towards the door.

"Where are we going?" your voice shakes and you pull away from Felix, standing in the middle of Chan's room. You wrap your arms around your middle, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.

"You know we have to tell the rest of them. They deserve to know, too."

"Felix, I don't think I can tell the story again. Once was enough for a lifetime."

"OK, do you feel comfortable with me telling them? I'll tell them exactly what you told me, no more, no less, ok?"

You frantically nod your head, grateful for Felix's suggestion.

He blows you a playful kiss, no doubt trying to make you feel better, and he leaves to go to the living room. You take your seat back down on the side of the bed and wait patiently for Felix to finish.

You don't hear much for the next few minutes, but you're startled by the swinging open of the door, the handle cracking against Chan's poor wall. Han stands there, a dazed look on his face. His glassy eyes meet yours, and you shriek when he takes off, leaping onto the bed onto your small frame. He wraps you up in a big hug, squeezing the life out of you.

"We love you, and we'd never want you to struggle alone. We're in this life together."

One by one, the rest of the guys make their way into the room onto the bed. We're haphazardly thrown into a cuddle pile of sorts. A cuddle pile filled with the love and adoration you've been missing during the holidays.

You all lay in each other's arms, and you feel incredibly comfortable and safe. Chan's the first to break the silence, "We have five days left until Christmas. What do you say we make some new Christmas traditions? We don't want to replace what you used to have, and you’re entitled to spend your Christmas season as you'd like. But, if you'll let us, we’ll give you something to look forward to about the holidays again. Please?" The guys are all looking at you now, each of them displaying a face that could rival a sad puppy.

You realize now that there's nothing to be scared of. These are your best friends you're talking about, who want nothing but to shower you in love and happiness.

"I'd love that."

Part 2

[natlovesls2]

December Shorts

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙ ˚₊⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙ ˚₊⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙ ˚₊⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙ ˚₊⋆ ꙳•̩̩͙

₊˚ʚ ➼➻❥ Coming soon...

☆- Angst, ᰔᩚ- Fluff, ✧- 18+,

⤜♡→ Day 1: Home For The Holidays- Charles Leclerc

Refuses to let you be alone for the holidays

⤜♡→ Day 2: Ice Skating- Logan Sargeant

Hockey x Figure skater au

⤜♡→ Day 3: Christmas Tree Farm- Lando Norris

Your first time going Christmas tree shopping together

⤜♡→ Day 4: Snow Angel- Pato O’Ward

Small town romance

⤜♡→ Day 5: The Nutcracker- Lewis Hamilton

F1 driver takes on ballet

⤜♡→ Day 6: Secret Santa- Lando Norris

You are determined to learn more about the person you have to gift and get closer to them, but perhaps you get a little too close

⤜♡→ Day 7: Under The Mistletoe- Lando Norris

He places mistletoe everywhere in hopes to securing a kiss with you

⤜♡→ Day 8: Last Christmas- Charles Leclerc

Your Ex left you heartbroken during the holidays last year, but this year seems to be different

⤜♡→ Day 9: Scrooge- Max Verstappen

He hates the holiday times but you're sure you can change him

⤜♡→ Day 10: Snowed In- Pato O’Ward

Blizzard + alone in a cabin, a match made in snow heaven

⤜♡→ Day 11: Hot Cocoa- Carlos Sainz

Something to sweeten your life during the winter

⤜♡→ Day 12: Midnight- Lando Norris

You're sure this will be another kissless New Years Eve

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙ ˚₊⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙ ˚₊⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙ ˚₊⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙ ˚₊⋆ ꙳•̩̩͙

₊˚ʚ ➼➻❥ masterlist

₊˚ʚ ➼➻❥ request

Images are not mine and have been found on pinterest. Image 1: gn5me, Image 2: beckykenworthy1, Image 3: miostandaert

[anonymousewrites]

Lavender for Royalty; Sage for Wisdom Christmas Special

Kyoya Ootori x Reader

Christmas Special

            “Is this place really so new to Tamaki? Don’t rich people have Christmas events?” said Haruhi.

            Tamaki had insisted on bringing the Host Club to a commoner’s Christmas Market, so there they were. The lights were dazzling, sweet scents wafted from every corner, and couples and families were walking around together as far as the eye could see. Stalls were set up for every type of gift and cultural holiday food imaginable, and Tamaki was intent on experiencing every single aspect of the market.

            “Christmas events are times for networking,” said (Y/N). “Businesses getting togehtr for goodwill. Gifts show off their wealth and are all tailor-made for each person. They’re not bought where there’s stuff for random people like a place like this.”

            “That’s…impersonal,” said Haruhi.

            “It’s not necessarily impersonal,” said (Y/N). “People can get individualized gifts that their loved ones appreciate. However, Tamakis family…falls on the impersonal.” They smiled. “That’s why he wants to do this with all of us.”

            “Oh,” said Haruhi, looking at Tamaki as he showed off two hats to the twins and shoved them on their heads to “tell the difference.”

            “Takashi, help me reach the tree,” said Honey.

            Mori lifted him up so he could put the star on a small tree.

            “Haruhi, come and look at the gingerbread houses! Teach me how to make one!” said Tamaki.

            “We’re going to make a castle,” said Hikaru and Kaoru.

            Tamaki suddenly looked alarmed. “We have to beat them, Haruhi!” He grabbed her arm. “Come on, come on!” He dragged her over towards the stalls while Haruhi flailed and reached towards (Y/N) for help.

            (Y/N) just chuckled and waved. “Bye, Haruhi.”

            “Wait, no, senpai, help!”

            “Merry Christmas,” sang (Y/N) playfully.

            “Leaving her to fend for herself against Tamaki, how cruel,” said Kyoya.

            “Says our resident Scrooge,” said (Y/N). “At least I went along with Tamaki’s Santa-hat theme.” They smiled. “If you don’t go along with him this year, he’ll put you in a Grinch costume.”

            Kyoya smiled coldly. “He wouldn’t dare.”

            Okay, maybe not, thought (Y/N), a shiver going down their spine. “Well, I plan to enjoy myself. My aunt and uncle love these things. We have a ton of ornaments from people we know because of these stalls, and it means our tree is filled with memories. I want to find another one to remember today with the Host Club.”

            “I’ll accompany you,” said Kyoya. He had no reason to follow Tamaki—he had enough people for his hijinks—so he would go with (Y/N) into the market.

            The pair walked in together, and (Y/N) led the way to the craft stalls filled with ornaments.

            “What would fit us all? A giant heart for flirting with girls?” joked (Y/N).

            “What about money if you’re going in that direction?” said Kyoya.

            “Okay, maybe not,” said (Y/N), chuckling.

            “What if you got an ornament for each host?” said Kyoya.

            “I don’t have the money for that,” said (Y/N) casually. “That’s for gifts.”

            “I’ll pay for them,” said Kyoya.

            “And I pay you back with interest?” said (Y/N).

            Kyoya smiled “innocently.” “That would hardly be in the Christmas spirit.”

            “And you’re embracing it now?” said (Y/N), amused.

            “Why not?” said Kyoya. His smile turned slightly more genuine. “It’s not my tree they’re going on.”

            “Okay, then.” (Y/N) smiled. “If you’re going to help pay, then you have to help pick. That’s the rule.”

            “Very well,” said Kyoya, oddly endeared.

            “Now, Tamaki first,” said (Y/N).

            “Obviously the crown,” said Kyoya. “He insists on calling himself the ‘King.’ ”

            “He does,” chuckled (Y/N), picking up the ornament. “Oh, here’s a piece of cake.”

            “Honey, undoubtedly,” said Kyoya.

            “His is the most obvious,” said (Y/N). “And a katana for Mori. I’ll hang them together.”

            “How about the comedy and tragedy masks for the twins?” said Kyoya.

            “I like it,” said (Y/N), adding to the small pile. “I think the vase for Haruhi.”

            Kyoya smirked. “Very appropriate.”

            (Y/N) chuckled. “Now it’s you…Hm…Glasses or journal. Both are just so you. Or how about a snake? You are the Shadow King, and everyone knows you plant all of the ideas for Tamaki.”

            “Amusing. Should you be the seventies disco ball based on your style, then?” said Kyoya with the same smile of innocence.

            “You joke, but I like it,” said (Y/N). “And I’m choosing the snake for you.”

            “I certainly can’t stop you,” said Kyoya. Except he could. He was paying, after all. But he wouldn’t.

            “You can’t because it’s Christmas,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “I guess I did get into the spirit somewhat,” said Kyoya, handing them the disco ball ornament. His hand brushed theirs. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

            “Merry Christmas, Kyoya. Thanks for going around with me,” said (Y/N).

            “Of course. Anytime.” Strangely enough, Kyoya meant it.

Taglist:

@roo024

@jmclouds

@yappydoo

@ramblingsoftheill

@girgal73

@rockerica

@nosoyyo1213

@ritzes28

@grippledee-galaxy

@rory-cakes

@neenieweenie

@k03ume

@constellationguy

@paastaboi

@introvertathome

@chaseyui

[oneforthemunny]

candy caned |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|

prompt: you’re desperate to make eddie’s trailer more festive for the holidays. you bring over decorations, but eddie is only interested in one- a long, plastic candy cane.

apart of the twelve days of dom!eddie's christmas

contains: smut. 18+. dom/sub themes, hints at brat tamer/brat themes. spanking with implements (candy cane lol). role play-ish?? not really established but kinda alluded to it a little. aftercare. minors dni, read at your own discretion.

A cloud of smoke left Eddie’s lips, corners of his mouth pulling up into a half lipped smirk. Your car propelled over the gravel of the trailer park’s makeshift road, a playful beep of your horn. Eddie gave a small laugh, the air in front of him clouding at the contrast. He could hear the droning of George Michael’s Last Christmas, muffled from your car stereo but a reminder of why you were here. 

Eddie bummed the cigarette when you turned off the ignition, the radio silencing but that didn’t stop you. “Last Christmas, I gave you my heeearrrttt.” Your door swung open, voice trilling out into the quiet, rainy park. Eddie grinned, shoving his hands in his utility jacket, starting down the groaning steps of his trailer. 

“But the very next day,” You wiggled your brows at Eddie playfully, a toothy grin on your face that made his chest fill with a surge of heat. “C’mon, Ed, you know it!” You pouted playfully. 

“Yeah, I do. Everyone on planet fuckin’ Earth knows it.” Eddie snorted, heavy work boots nudging your own Sorels. His hands found your cheek, pressing a soft, full lipped kiss to your warm skin. The nicotine on his breath made your head spin, melting into his touch. 

Eddie’s lips quirked, fighting back a smile. “Still not singing it, though.” He muttered, fingers squishing your cheeks together playfully, pivoting towards your trunk. 

The huff you gave did make him grin. “Such a Scrooge.” You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “No holiday spirit at all.” 

Eddie waited by the trunk, eyes shining in amusement while you unlocked your trunk. His eyes widened, gaping at you in disbelief. “You’re shitting me.” 

“What?” You frowned, reaching for the bundle of lights, tangled from the half-hearted place in your apartment’s pitiful storage. 

“Baby,” Eddie blinked, positively confounded. When you’d suggested bringing some decorations over, he expected a few knick-knacks, maybe a tiny tree. Not the trunk full of Christmas decor, looking like something straight out of a Macy’s display window he’d pass in the city. 

“There’s… This is a lot.” Eddie tried not to sound as horrified as he felt. 

You frowned at him over your shoulder, hauling the tote bag with your Zellers Christmas Village in it over your arm. “You said you didn’t have anything.” 

“I don’t.” Eddie nodded, scanning over the tubs- tubs, plural- of ornaments. “But-But you didn’t have to bring all of this. What about your place?” 

You rolled your eyes lightly. “I barely stay there.” It was true, you’d slowly migrated into Eddie’s space over the months, staying more and more. “And you have more space. More decorating room.” The smile you gave him was bright, dazzling and excited. 

Eddie’s was… less enthusiastic, a mix between a grimace and dread. Still, he grabbed the box of stacked ornaments, the glass rattling as he walked up the stairs, following your giddy steps into the trailer. 

“No! Not so close to the edge!” You shrieked, Eddie nearly dropping the snowman figurine in his hand. 

He’d been a good sport, he really had. Eddie didn’t complain when you handed him the tangled lights. He kept his snarky comments to himself when you had him fluff out the tree branches to the plastic tree. He’d come close to snapping when you busted out the Elvis Christmas album, but he didn’t- he tuned it out, focused on anything else. 

The trailer was transformed, a Christmas wonderland, complete with the final touches of the snowmen and Santas on the window ledge. You pushed the snowman back, tilting it to your satisfaction, nodding with approval. 

Eddie let you. The two of you had established a ‘system’- he’d put it out, and you went behind him and fixed it how you wanted it. “What about these, baby?” Eddie hummed, picking up the bundle of plastic, long candy canes. “These go on the tree?”

“No,” You shook your head, placing the last figurine on the window. “They go outside. We can do them when it’s not raining.” 

Eddie turned the candy canes around in his hand, thin and spindly, intertwined plastic red and white that were long. He pulled one out by the hook, shaking it gently- testing it. Eddie brought it down, the swoosh whistling just barely over the music from his boombox. 

“Don’t break them.” You frowned, twisting an ornament so it faced forward. “Just put them to the side. We can do them tomorrow if you want.” 

Eddie stayed quiet, brows pinched together, tongue rolling over the inside of his cheek. You paused, watching him carefully as he studied the cane. 

“You know what?” Eddie hummed, his eyes still on the red and white cane in his hand. “I think I have an idea.” 

“What?” You looked at him, scanning the room for any spare place for the decoration. 

“I can think of something better to do with this.” Eddie’s lips curled, intriguingly dark. “It would really get me in this whole most wonderful time of the year mood.” His tone animated, dark and mocking the way it was when he played DND with his friends, when they were about to be presented with a dangerous risk of a choice. It made your heart skip.

“What?” You repeated, brow quipping, waving your hand for him to continue. 

Eddie’s eyes lit up, twinkling with excitement under the glow of the colorful strands on the tree. He lifted the cane, cutting it through the air with a satisfied swish!, holding your gaze with a darkened look of desire. 

Your tummy flipped, heat rushing through your core, thighs pressing together at the insinuation. 

Eddie lifted a brow. “Think you need it. Probably on the naughty list. Aren’t ya, baby?” He purred, spinning the cane in his hand. You squirmed under his gaze, fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater. 

“‘M not.” You shuddered, shrinking under Eddie’s greedy gaze. “I’ve been very good this year.” 

Eddie sucked in a dramatic breath through his teeth, stalking towards you until he was towering over you. “Hmm, that’s not what I heard, sweetheart.” Eddie muttered, nose nearly touching yours. 

Your knees tightened, wobbling with excitement. “Good news is,” Eddie started, letting the candy cane slide through his hands, brushing over your own. “It’s not too late. Can correct you now. Teach you a lesson and make sure you’ll be extra good.” 

This wasn’t exactly what you were expecting after decorating. You had hoped the decor would maybe bring some holiday spirit to Eddie, and in a way… it did? 

“I want to be a good girl.” You squeaked, tiny and breathy tone that had Eddie’s cock twitching in his jeans. 

“Yeah? I can tell.” Eddie nodded, hands clamping around the plastic decoration. “I can make sure you are.” Eddie’s hand reached for your jaw, fingers splaying over your cheeks, pulling your gaze to him. “You just gotta ask me.” 

You whimpered behind closed lips, the throb between your legs growing and growing. Eddie tilted his head, curls silhouetted by the tree’s lights. He looked nearly angelic, so pretty- it was so deceiving. 

“C’mon,” Eddie rasped, thumb stroking over your cheekbone delicately. “Ask me to help you be a good girl.”

You squirmed in his touch, eyes casting down. His hand caught your jaw quickly, pulling your gaze to him. “Please…” You swallowed, heart thumping from the thrill of anticipation. “Please, help me be a good girl? I wanna be a good girl.” 

Eddie smiled, satisfied. A gentle, affectionate squeeze to your cheeks. “Alright, I’ll help you.” He nodded, stepping back from you. His arms crossed over his chest, candy cane in his left hand, dangling loosely in his grasp. 

“Strip for me.” Eddie nodded, tongue running down his cheek, taking in your frame. Your red sweater, cropped and positively festive. 

Your hands quaked with anticipation, unbuttoning your jeans carefully, shoving them so they pooled at your sock clad feet. Eddie watched you, leaning cooly against the couch, eyes roaming your frame until you were just in a high cut, cotton thong and lacy bra- his favorite. He had helped you pick it out, snuck in the dressing room when the snobby lingerie store manager stepped away so you could model it for him. 

You looked at him, arms down by your sides, the way he’d taught you to. Eddie lifted a brow, head bobbing at you. “C’mon, keep going.” 

“All of it?” You whined. “Eddie, can I keep my panties on please? You know I hate the cane-” 

“-All of it.” Eddie snapped firmly. “You wanna be good? You’re not acting like you wanna be good. Still acting like a brat. Still acting like a naughty girl.” 

Heat rushed to your cheeks, lip jutting out in a pout that had Eddie’s abs clenching at the throb in his cock. You knew what you were doing, giving him your most pitiful, pouty look to drive Eddie wild. It was working. 

Eddie’s brow lifted, a final warning that he was done arguing, eyes flicking down to your panties, heart skipping when your fingers hooked around them, pulling them slowly down your legs. 

Your hands found your sides again, palms twitching with excitement, smoothing down the top of your bare thighs. Eddie waited until your eyes lifted to his, holding your gaze for just a touch too long- long enough to have you squirming with anticipation. 

“Bend over the couch for me. Hands in front.” Eddie nodded, his voice dropping into that dark rasp it always did when he’d step into this domineering role with you. 

The faded green carpet lacked it’s usual softness, coated with glitter from the decor and you hadn’t got a chance to vacuum yet. The usual crocheted blanket was folded over the arm of the couch, a reindeer throw pillow next to it. You set the pillow in front of you, so you’d have something to grab onto, bending over the arm of the couch. 

Your eyes stayed forward, Eddie’s hum of approval muffled out by his heavy soled footsteps moving closer to you. “Hm, how many strokes does a naughty girl deserve?” Eddie sighed animatedly. He was putting on a show for you, for him too. 

“What do you think?” Eddie tapped the side of your hip lightly with the cane, dragging the cool plastic over your ass.

You shuddered, the hook of the candy cane ghosting over the crack of your cheeks. “I don’t know, sir.” You grit, eyes closing, fighting the quake in your voice. “Three?” 

“Three?” Eddie scoffed, halting his movements, the hook side of the cane pressed against the fatty flesh under your ass. “Try again, sweetheart.” 

“I don’t know.” You whined, toes wiggling into the carpet. You were throbbing, dizzy with the desire for Eddie to touch you, spank you, fuck you- do something to you. 

“Hm, better watch it, naughty girl.” Eddie hissed, eyes narrowed in on your ass. He pressed the cane up, lifting your cheek so he could sneak a peek at your puffy lips, already slick with your own arousal. “Can see why you got on the naughty list. Little bratty thing, aren’t ya?” 

“‘M not.” You pouted, chin dropping into your outstretched arms. 

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true.” Eddie tsked, the cane moving closer and closer to your pussy. “And I think you should get a stroke for every month you were naughty this year. Twelve.” 

You squirmed, hips wiggling and rocking in place. Eddie grinned, smoothing a hand over your spine. You jumped, relaxing under the familiar touch. “How’s that sound?” Eddie muttered, tapping your shoulder blade gently. 

You turned back, chin hooking on your shoulder to meet his gaze. “Twelve?” Eddie asked, his hand still rubbing over your spine soothingly, like he did every night to lull you to sleep. 

It made your heart swell with a warmth that had your cheeks burning with tingly heat. “Yeah.” You whispered, squeaking at the small squeeze Eddie gave your hip. 

Eddie’s hand rubbed back down your spine, setting the candy cane on your upturned ass, shedding his sweatshirt slowly. “Think you’ll remember to be good this year after this?” Eddie questioned, tossing his sweatshirt on the chair behind him. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You know what happens next year if you’re not good, right? If you’re on the naughty list again?” Eddie grabbed the cane slowly, dragging it over your ass and thighs. 

“No, sir, I don’t.” You choked out, clenching the pillow in front of you. 

“You get double.” Eddie said surely, bringing the cane down behind you. You felt the air on your skin, knees tightening with expectancy, the lingering threat looming closer and closer. “After that, I’ll just have to come down here every month. Cane you and make sure you get a monthly reminder to be good.” 

You whined behind closed lips, hips lifting at the threat. Eddie grinned, lining the candy cane up to your ass. “And believe me, if I have to come down every month, take time outta my schedule to teach you a lesson, I won’t be as nice as this. You better consider yourself lucky this time. Better learn from it.” 

“I will.” You panted, arms shaking from how hard you were clenching them. “I’ll be good from now on. I promise.” You sounded so sweet. Tone so airy and pouty and adorable, that tone that made Eddie’s vision blurry with desire. 

“Good.” Eddie nodded, tapping the cane against your ass. “I’ll make sure of it. Count ‘em out for me, baby.” 

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in through your nose. The cane pulled back, a whoosh! filling the air before it was snapping into your skin, a biting sting from the plastic spreading in a line across your cheeks. Your hips jumped, a tiny huff of a whine leaving your lips at the shock. It wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as the wooden cane Eddie used in the past, but still uncomfortable. 

“One,” You breathed out through gritted teeth. 

Eddie lined up the cane again, higher this time, before it was pulled back and sailing onto your bare skin, harder. Hard enough to have your head snapping up, toes bouncing off the carpet. 

“Two!” You squeaked, Eddie’s hand on the small of your spine to steady you. 

He watched you carefully. If this was the normal cane, you’d be crying by now- sniffly in the least. He lined it up lower, where your ass met your thighs. He lifted his hand, bringing the cane down with the type of strength he used with his hard soled slipper, hard and quick, pulling the sound he was looking for right out of you. 

The yowl, punched straight out of your core, back arching and hips wiggling away. “Ow! Ow! Three!” You hissed, a white knuckled grip on the pillow. Your nose burned, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes now, the sting was searing now, leaving a sizzling sting that had you bouncing from foot to foot. 

Eddie smirked in satisfaction, stilling you again with his hand firm on your lower back. “You learning your lesson?” Eddie grunted, the candy cane falling back down again, that white line imprinting your skin before disappearing, your cry following like clockwork. 

“Yes!” You whined, and the petulant, bratty foot stomp that followed had Eddie’s cock lurching. “Four!” 

“You’re gonna be really good this year, aren’t ya?” Eddie growled. 

Swish! 

“Yes! I’ll be good! I’ll be good!” You groaned, a watery, pathetic wail. “Five!” You bounced from toe to toe over the couch, hips shaking like you could possibly shake the sting out that way. The ache between your legs was blinding, rivaling the sting growing furiously on your backside. 

Another stroke came before you were ready, quicker than the last time but just as unforgivingly searing. You cried out, a bubbling sob that tore from your throat. “You gonna make me do this again? Gonna be on the naughty list again?” 

“Noooo,” You cried out. Your face rubbed against your arms, snotty cries from a burning nose and throat that you tried to soothe. 

“What number was that?” Eddie tapped the cane lightly against you. 

“Six.” You muttered, so pitifully sweet it made Eddie’s heart burst. The sniffle that followed was even more piteous, wet and snotty and somehow still bratty. 

“Hm, ‘s not lookin’ great, baby.” Eddie teased, the cane snapping against your sore skin. “Already forgettin’.” 

“Se-even.” You sobbed, head pressed into your arms, slack over the couch. 

Eddie was nearly drooling, watching the way your hips rocked onto the arm of the couch for friction, catching glimpses of your pussy. 

“You wanna be on the nice list.” Eddie nodded, striping you again right across the middle of your ass.

“Eight.” 

 “You know what nice girls get?” Eddie pressed, watching your shoulders shudder before he caned you, higher this time. 

“No!” You hissed, knees buckling and legs quaking after the hit. “Nine.” 

“Good girls who are on the nice list,” Eddie leaned forward, hovering over your squirming frame. “Get their pussies eaten out.” You whimpered, hips grinding down harder on the arm of the couch. “They get my tongue used on them as a reward for being so good.” 

“Please, Ed, please.” You babbled, throbbing, needy, and your mind already numbed with the overwhelming sensation of pleasure and pain. “Please.” 

“Nuh-uh-uh.” Eddie tsked, shaking his head at you. “You haven’t been good.” His hand rubbed over the hot skin of your ass, tickling just above your hidden pussy, grinning at the whine you gave. You stomped, huffing into the couch. There she was, the little brat he loved to play with.

“If you were good,” Eddie grunted, swinging the cane back and forward into your burning skin. You wailed, hand slapping into the couch, clawing at the cushion to keep yourself from reaching back. “You’d get eaten out.” 

“T-Ten.” You whimpered, a pouty sound. Eddie could practically see your face- brows creased in a frown, lip jutted, tear stained cheeks and a runny nose. 

“I’d use my tongue on you,” Eddie purred. You whined, nasally and desperate, hips swiveling down for friction. “I’d make you cum over and over and over.” 

You gasped when the cane cut into your ass with an unforgiving snap, an inflamed imprint left in its wake.  “Eleven.” 

“I’d even let you sit on my face so you could grind down just like that.” Eddie teased, tapping your rocking hips with the cane lightly. “Let you do that on my face instead of on the couch, rubbing your pussy all over my couch like that when you’re getting spanked. Seems awfully naughty, if you ask me.” He tutted. 

Your toes curled, his words were cruel, teasing, made your body burn with embarrassed heat- yet you were so close. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna be very good this year. Don’t know if I believe you.” Eddie shook his head. “You’re supposed to be getting punished, not enjoying this.” 

“I-I’m not.” You panted, shaking your head furiously. 

“You’re not?” Eddie scoffed, setting the cane to rest on your ass. His hand dipped between your thighs, fingertips sliding through your sopping folds easily, smirking at the gasp that tore from your throat. 

Eddie’s finger sunk into your soaking hole, pumping in and out at an agonizingly slow pace that had your head lifting, eyes pinched in pleasure. You were close, he could feel it, feel it in the way you clenched and strangled around his finger. He pulled away just as quickly as he put them in, your eyes flying open at the loss. 

“What-” 

“Look at this,” Eddie commanded, his fingers coated with your sticky arousal, pointer and middle finger spreading, webs of your slick forming with ever widening of his fingers. “You think someone not enjoying this would have that? Hm? Look at it.” 

Your cheeks were scorching with heat, lifting your gaze shyly to his dangling fingers in front of your face, shaking your head lightly. 

Eddie hummed in satisfaction, pulling his hand back, wiping your release over your burning ass. You yelped, jumping at the burn of his touch on your sore skin. Eddie’s lips curled, grabbing the candy cane off your hips. 

“Last one.” Eddie muttered, lining the festive decoration up against your skin, tapping gently. “You ready, baby?” 

“‘M ready.” You sighed, cheek pressed into your outstretched arms. 

Eddie was sure he was about to bust at the sight of you- glassy eyed, sniffling lightly, whimpering with every roll of your hips. Oh, it was too fuckin’ much. 

Eddie brought the cane down hard- hard enough he thought it might snap in half. The final blow that had you gasping, a strangled whine huffing out of your chest in a gasping heave before your body tensed, quivering at the sensation the impact left. 

“T-Twelve.” You whimpered, cheek pressed against your arm, so spacy in ecstasy you were dribbling out of the corner of your mouth. 

Your ass was stinging with that itchy, red-hot irritation that had you desperate to rub it out, only you knew it would only make the ache worse. You were throbbing between the legs, slick and frustrated, desperate for him to touch you. 

Eddie’s hand skated in a feather light touch over your ass, passing so delicately over each of your lips, coated with your own slickness. “You learned your lesson?” Eddie hummed, swallowing the spit that filled his mouth at the sight of you, presented so perfectly over the arm of the couch for him- for him to fuck you. 

“Ready to be a good girl? Be on the nice list?” His hand didn’t stop, sliding down the inside of your thigh, pushing lightly so you’d spread your legs. 

“Yeah,” You sighed, airy and a little pouty, cheek still pressed to the couch pillow. 

“Yeah? Look at me, baby.” Eddie patted your thigh gently, hovering over you. 

You blinked, looking up at him with sweet, glassy, rounded eyes. “You alright?” Eddie asked, scanning your features carefully, testing the waters of where you were. 

“Yeah.” You hummed, lip jutting ever so lightly. “I’ll be good now.” 

“I know you will.” Eddie nodded. “Are you alright? You with me, baby?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded, shimmying your body so it contorted and angled towards him. “I’m ready to be good, so you can fuck me now.” The bluntness of your words mixed with the light, breathy tone, so deceivingly sweet- it made Eddie’s head spin. 

“Yeah?” He grinned, dimples creasing. “I was gettin’ to that, baby.” 

“You can get to it now.” You hummed, slipping out of that hazy fog that he always got you in, back into your bratty ways. Eddie’s lips twitched, biting back a smirk. “‘M ready for it. I’ll be really good this year.” 

“Alright, you earned it, I guess.” Eddie teased, pulling you by the small of your waist back up the arm of the couch. “How you want me, babe? This good?” 

“Yeah, just let me-” You snatched the pillow in front of you, pushing it under your chest. “Ready.” 

“You sure are, holy shit.” Eddie muttered, eyes glued to your parted thighs, your sopping cunt making his head reel  at the sight. “You gonna be a good girl? Be my good girl?” 

“Yes,” You whine, hips wiggling back further to him. “I’ll be good, so good, please.” 

Eddie slipped two fingers into your sopping hole, pumping in and out just as slow as before. Your toes curled, body jolting with that euphoric, white hot bolts of pleasure. A small whine, quiet but pathetically desperate slipped from your lips. 

Another whine followed, huffier this time, more demanding. “Alright, alright, I gotcha.” Eddie gritted, pumping his shaft slowly, smearing his own pre-leakages over his head, down his shaft. “I gotcha. Relax, baby.” 

Your vision blurred at the feeling of him pushing into you, that achingly familiar stretch, your walls tightening with every slow roll of his hips further and further into you. Your ass was raw with the still fresh strokes of the cane, Eddie’s hips and groin snapping into the irritated skin with a purposeful punch of his cock inside of you. 

Tears brimmed your eyes, of pleasure or pain or both, you weren’t really sure. The sensation was enough to have you mindless, cheek smushed into the couch cushion, whimpering. “Fuck, you gonna be my good girl? Be my-my nice girl?” Eddie hissed, eyes half-lidded, hypnotized by the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock with every roll of his hips. 

“Yeah.” You whined, a ghosting of a whimper tailing on your words. 

“Yeah.” Eddie grunted in a mocking tone, fingers sinking into the fat of your hips. “Holy fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good. You know that? ‘Course you know that. This feel good? Am I makin’ you feel good, baby?” His hand fell on your ass, a stinging hand print left in its wake on your already sensitive skin. 

You yelped, head snapping up at the impact, red manicured nails curling around the needlepoint pillow, grappling at the loopy stitches while Eddie plowed into you from the back. Fingers bruising your hips and waist from the way Eddie was using your body to fuck himself, until he finally halted, heavy breathing gasps of pleasure. He pulled out, a thick stream of his own release drooling out of you and towards the faded floral upholstery. 

Somehow, the lights on the trees and strung along the walls seemed brighter now, with you curled into his neck. Eddie blew the smoke away from you, towards the chilly night air that crept in from the open window. 

“I think I kinda get it.” Eddie muttered, a hand rubbing down your back soothingly, pulling you out of your post orgasm hazy state. You hummed, nuzzling into his chest, curling into his body for warmth from the breeze that swept in. “Get why you like all this stuff.” 

You lifted your gaze, eyes still glowing with the remnants of emotion, but rounding in the sweetest way. “Yeah? You gettin’ in the spirit, Munson?” You giggled softly. 

Eddie snorted lightly, rolling the cigarette between his pointer and thumb over the ashtray. “Maybe.” He shrugged. “You lettin’ me spank you with a candy cane really got me in the spirit, babe.” You laughed, head dropping to his shoulder, eyes batting up at his. 

The candy canes lined the path to Eddie’s trailer the next day. You helped him put them out in the freezing cold, occasionally rubbing your tender ass when he’d swish the decoration playfully, eyes dark and dazzling at you. One lone candy cane stayed inside, hanging on Eddie’s bedroom door knob to make it look more festive, or so he said.

[wayward-dreamer]

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

Square/s filled: dirty talk @jacklesversebingo |

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader

Word count: 3,820

Summary: After being forced to at least wear Santa's hat if not the full costume at the Vought Christmas party, Soldier Boy catches the eye of the alluring assistant from Hero Management. Despite the embarrassment, it just might work out in his favor. Set in mid 70s.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drug use, misogyny, objectification of f!reader, smut: dirty talk, sexual Christmas innuendos, (1) titty slap, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, SB spits in reader's mouth, v fingering, spanking, spit as lube, brief anal play, unprotected sex (reader is on some form of BC, but wrap it up people), couch sex, rough sex, cream pie. I hope that's everything, lmk if there's anything I missed pls!

A/N: Requested by @kamisobsessed, I'm sorry it took so long! I tried getting this done before Xmas but it was a crazy time as you can imagine. Anyway, I hope you like it! This is the most fun I've had writing SB and I just hope that it's worked out well. Happy reading everyone! Unbeta'd.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year…

Well that was total horseshit.

It was far from wonderful, especially when the Vought Christmas party came around and all the supes were obligated to attend. Even worse when one of them was forced every year to be Santa for the night, and that year the unnecessary honor had fallen to him. He had never put himself up for the stupid task, so of course he was left to believe that one of the higher ups at the company had whispered it in Hero Management’s ear, and now he had to deal with the embarrassment.

Pushing his hair back, Soldier Boy placed the red velvet hat trimmed with white faux fur back on his head, picking up the glass of Bourbon and throwing it back. He motioned to a waiter for a refill, receiving it from the tray instantly as he placed the empty tumbler back. He had made it clear that if management wanted him to be part of the event then the hat was the only part of the costume he was agreeing to, and knowing they had no place to argue with his status within Vought, they said nothing. He would’ve preferred not to do this, but it seemed a contractual requirement for all of them and there was no way he was risking any income he gained from it.

He was far from a Scrooge; he just wished he could blow off this snooze fest and start his infamous afterparty early.

He watched as guests gathered in groups of three or four, scattered around the huge foyer with drinks in hand. He found himself in brief, random conversations as he moved around the room, everyone wishing him well for the holidays. He always reciprocated the sentiments, but he wasn’t sure he ever meant them. Truthfully, it was the easiest way to get out of conversations.

He just knew he needed to get through another hour or so of this before the real fun could start.

He also knew he was far too sober for this party, the Bourbon not doing enough at this point of the night. He needed a hit and he needed it soon. Excusing himself from a mundane discussion about Vought’s profits, he sauntered through the crowd as he scanned the room for a quiet corner. As his eyes moved over people, they landed on a particular figure, draped in a sequined emerald green, long sleeve dress. It hit the floor, the high slit giving him a glimpse of a gold platform heel as it ascended up her smooth leg to the upper thigh, with a deep v-neckline down the valley of her chest making him practically salivate as he saw the curve of her breast.

The outfit along with the sultry, smokey make-up would’ve made her completely unrecognizable if he didn't see her face everyday as an assistant to Hero Management. The way she looked was a far cry from the powersuits and pencil skirts he was used to seeing on her, her usual attire work appropriate but also hiding her best assets. Though the skirts did a lot of her ass when he couldn’t help but watch her bend over to pick up something.

He continued to watch her as she chatted with some guy from the department, unable to think of his name when all he could think about was how to get her out of that dress. Luckily she gave the guy a small nod before he left, finishing off the last drops of champagne in the coupe glass. He waved a waiter over who was carrying a tray of champagne, telling him to take it over to her. He observed her as she smiled softly, accepting the drink as the waiter no doubt told her it was from him like he asked him to. Her gaze drifted over the guests, locking with his instantly. He tipped his glass at her before he took a sip of the amber liquid, a smirk pulling at his lips as her bottom one tucked between her teeth. This was going to be too easy.

Slowly, with that intimidating gait of his, he crossed the room towards her. She glanced behind before she began to walk away, looking over her shoulder invitingly as she climbed up the staircase to the second floor of the grand foyer into a corner out of the party’s vantage point. She situated herself in front of one of the big windows overlooking the city’s sparkling lights, pulling out a silver cigarette case from her purse, along with her light. She placed one between her red stained lips, lighting up. She blew the plume of smoke out with a tilt of her head, but her eyes remained on him as he loomed closer.

“Got another one of those?” he asked as he stopped a few inches from her.

Offering him one and handing over her lighter, she watched as he lit it and took a long drag, blowing out the large puff. Her gaze remained on him but drifted up, letting out a small huff of a laugh at the Santa hat adorning his head.

“How’d they manage to convince you to do that?”

He shrugged as he leaned against the railing, facing her. “It’s the only thing I agreed to.”

“Not one for Christmas, huh?” she pondered.

“Oh, I got plenty of Christmas spirit in me, sugar,” he smirked. “Just ask, and you can find out how much.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “It’s not gonna happen, Ben.”

“I saw that look in your eye when you walked over here, Y/N,” he stated, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied, taking a sip of champagne.

He grinned. “That’s cute, doll, but you’re not fooling me. I bet there’s a mess between your legs that says otherwise.” 

She felt her inner walls clench at his words, a heat pooling in her core. With another pull from the cigarette, she met his eyes. “If there was… what would you do about it?”

He leaned in closer, his green orbs roaming over her features. “Depends on whether you’ve been a good girl this year.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “What if I haven’t?”

“Well, you might have to take Santa’s big candy cane down that tight throat,” he suggested, smirking as he wiggled his eyebrows.

She giggled slightly, a combination of nerves, arousal and amusement. “Seems a little selfish. It’s the season of giving, you know.”

“Season of giving you my dick, maybe,” he whispered, their faces close.

She snorted, biting her lip as she felt herself close to giving into him. “You’re really committed to this bit.”

“So, what do you say we get outta this fucking pathetic excuse of a party and you can take a little ride to the North Pole,” he husked, staring into her eyes. “Or let me come down your chimney?”

“You’re insane,” she whispered, shaking her head.

He found his smile widening despite her words. He never let anyone speak to him like that and was always quick to lay down his authority over them, but considering he could see her resolve slipping with each word, each nervous breath that escaped her as he moved closer to her, he let it slide. They had spoken a handful of times over the years, he had even flirted because that came naturally to him, but this was the first time he got a proper reaction from her. He had to wonder if she kept her true thoughts hidden just like her work attire kept her from showing off everything he could see now in front of him.

Y/N observed him for a moment, thinking about what he was implying. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew what he and other supes got up to after hours. That was part of the job in Hero Management anyway: damage control for the talent. She had always been curious about what they did, especially when gossip would circulate around the office for a few hours before everyone knew they had to shut up and keep up appearances. She brought the glass in her hand to her lips, tilting her head back as she skulled the rest of the drink, putting out her cigarette in it. Her decision was made.

“Lead the way.”

He chuckled as he did the same with his Bourbon, dropping his cigarette into the tumbler. Taking both of her glasses in one hand and linking his other arm with hers, he guided her down the stairs, leaving the glasses on the bottom one as they walked out of the room. They moved down the hallway to the elevator, waiting for it to stop after he pressed the button. As soon as it opened, he pulled her in, pressing the button for the 40th floor. She breathed in deeply, letting it slow as she tried to calm herself down. He looked down at her, smirking as he reached into the pocket of his suit and taking out a small box. He saw the way she watched him like a hawk as he took off his glove, flipped the lid open, tapped some of the white powder along his fist and brought it up to his nose. He sniffed as he threw his head back, repeating the process with his other nostril before he peered back at her. Her gaze shifted between him and the box, a silent question in her eyes. He lifted an eyebrow as he tapped the substance onto his fist again, holding it closer to her. Nervously, she leaned down and snorted the powder, pinching her nose as she stood up straight, feeling the itching burn. Recovering quickly, she took another hit from the opposite side before she could hesitate.

“I… I don’t feel anything,” she muttered a moment later.

He guffawed, leaning down as their lips hovered close to each other. “Give it a minute, doll.”

His mouth crashed onto hers as he pulled her roughly against him, a surprised gasp escaping her as she grabbed onto his shoulders. The elevator dinged as the doors opened to the floor, and they stumbled out, clumsily making it down to his loft apartment. He threw the door open as they remained in a lip lock, pushing her up against the wood just as he shut it, her purse falling at her feet. Her hands struggled to hold onto him, her fingers slipping against the fabric as his arms wrapped tighter around her, his growing erection trapped under the material of his pants as he rubbed against her. His plump lips moved along hers, their tongues meeting in a searing kiss before he ripped his mouth away and left a trail down her jaw, biting and sucking at her neck as he continued to drift down. He licked down the deep opening of her dress, his hand coming up and peeling the fabric to the side to give him access to the swell of her breast. A loud moan escaped her as he sucked the stiff peak into his mouth, roughly circling his tongue over it.

“Oh, fuck,” she breathed, feeling a new sensation joining what he was doing to her. It was something she had never felt before, completely foreign to her before she realized the drug was kicking in.

He let go of the pebbled bud with a wet pop, looking into her eyes as he grinned. “There it is.”

Taking her hands in his, he dragged her away from the door and further into the apartment near the living area. He yanked the other side of her dress to display her whole chest to him, palming the soft tits. His thumb flicked over her nipples, her eyes widening as she whimpered. The sound cut off in her throat before she let out a stunned moan as he lifted both his hands and smacked them down over both breasts, holding onto him so she didn’t fall back from the unexpected feeling it gave her. Her flesh was tingling, a painful sting that turned into pleasurable as it moved in waves through her whole body.

“On your knees,” he ordered, his eyes darkened as he gazed down at her.

She did as she was told, knees on the hardwood floors as the split of her dress fell open and her thick heels dug into the back of her thighs. She watched as he reached down and unzipped his pants, his ungloved hand taking out his hardened length, stroking it slowly. A choked whimper left her as she saw how big he was, the tip red and leaking pre-cum, making her mouth water. Without missing a beat, she leaned forward, dropping her saliva along the length of his cock, softly sucking at the head. She took him in deeper, a soft choke escaping her as it pressed against the back of her throat. She pulled back slightly before sinking her mouth down, building a steady pace, bobbing her head back and forth, circling her tongue around the tip every time she drew back.

“Fuck, doll, that’s it,” he groaned, staring down at her. “Look at me, I wanna see those pretty eyes while you enjoy Santa’s treat for ya.”

A long moan vibrated against his shaft as she gazed up at him, continuing to take him down her throat. He smirked as he saw her dilated pupils, glassy as tears gathered with each swipe of her tongue over his cock. With his gloved hand, he fisted the strands of her hair and held her still, thrusting his hips back and forth swiftly, his length hitting the back of her mouth over and over and making her gag lightly. He pulled her back with the strands, a harsh gasp leaving  her as her lungs burned, breathing heavily. He growled as he leaned forward, a thick glob of his spit collecting before he spat into her open mouth and brought her head back down. She didn’t think something like that could arouse her, but it did and she had no time to question as she sucked at his pulsing girth. The glugging sound grew louder as he continued to fuck her mouth, saliva collecting at the corners of her lips. Tears spilled down her cheeks as the pressure built in her throat, causing her mascara and glittery eyeshadow to run.

“Taking my dick so good, sugar,” he husked, gripping her locks tight. “Spread your legs, want you drippin’ and ready for me…”

She opened her legs, the high split giving her better access as she reached into her black, lace panties and found the bundle of nerves. She could feel how wet she already was, but worked her fingers over her clit regardless as his cock slid between her lips. He groaned as he felt her lips close tighter around him, her eyes fluttering as her hand picked up the pace between her thighs.

“Not so fast,” he said, glaring down at her. “You don’t get to cum yet.”

He stepped back and his length slipped out of her mouth, causing her to breath heavily as she stared up at him. He leaned down and fit his hands under her arms, lifting her up and walking back towards the couch. He turned her around, bending her over the arm of the leather sofa and kicked her legs apart. He reached down and pushed her dress aside, his hands moving over the curve of her ass. He tugged roughly at her panties, the seams giving as he ripped the fabric, tossing it on the floor. A shocked moan left her as she tried to look back at him, biting her lip as she felt him grip her flesh tightly, spreading the globes of her ass. His thumbs stroked over the lips of her pussy, a deep groan vibrating in his chest as her arousal dripped over his digits.

“Knew you were fucking hiding something special under those pantsuits,” he stated, his voice low and gravelly. “This is one gorgeous little pussy you got here, doll. I think she’s ready to be filled with my Christmas spirit.”

His hand smoothed over her skin before he lifted it, striking it down hard. A sound somewhere between a squeak and a moan fell from her lips, it coming out once more as he spanked her again, a little firmer. Just as before, the pain gave way to pleasure as the warmth tingled from the spot where he struck her to the rest of her body. He stood behind her, bending slightly as he dropped a long line of saliva from his mouth onto her folds, rubbing it with his fingers and pressing the tip of his cock at her entrance. A smirk pulled at his lips as his thumb moved up to tease the puckered hole, dipping into the tight ring a little just as he plunged deep into her.

Y/N moaned loudly as he instantly set a brutal pace, her walls clenching around him as thrusted out and back in, moving deeper within her. Her long, red nails dug into the leather of the couch cushion, trying to hold herself up on shaky arms as her whole body shuddered from the impact of his thrusts. He pounded into her, the slap of skin and their sounds of erotic bliss a cacophony that echoed around the room. He grinned as he looked down, hearing the wet squelch of her pussy taking his cock, her arousal turning thicker and whiter as her moans grew louder with each stroke.

“Such a needy little slut, doll. Desperate for me to stuff your stocking, huh?” he asked, chuckling lightly.

She whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut. “Y-Yes! Need it-”

“I know, sugar, I know. Just need to prove how good you are, don’t ya?”

“Yeah,” she gasped, emphasizing it with a small nod. She had a slight coherence that she probably sounded pathetic at that moment, but she couldn’t care about it when he was making her feel this way.

He laughed harder, almost mockingly. “But you know, a pussy that’s as wet, as tight, as needy as yours… always comes from the naughty list.”

He slammed into her, her eyes flying open as she felt him stretching her walls more, his impressive girth and length reaching places inside she didn’t even think existed. It was overwhelming, the sensation that coursed through along with the drug she had taken. It was too much and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold on.

“Oh, fuck, it’s-it’s so deep,” she moaned, her forehead pressing into the couch. “I-I can’t-”

“Oh, I think you can, doll. Can feel this tight little hole stretching around me, so good at taking my cock,” he husked, emphasizing his words with a powerful smack against her ass.

She shrieked, glancing back at him as she panted. “Ben, please. I need-I need to cum.”

A heat pooled low in her core, feeling her muscles tighten as she grew closer to that inevitable climax, one she already knew would be her undoing in many ways. Now that she had been with him, felt this erotic display of his sheer power, could she ever go back to normal after this?

“You’re almost there, aren’t ya, sugar?” he muttered, squeezing her asscheek. “Wanna see you soak my dick, make a mess on me…”

“So-so close!” she exclaimed, gripping the cushions under for dear life.

He smirked as his pelvis slapped against the curve of her ass, loving the way her walls clenched around him. He felt his cock throbbing inside her, his own imminent release making his hips falter. He leaned over her, his lips close to her ear as a smug smile graced his lips.

“You gonna let me cum inside you, doll? Fill up your stocking with a big present from Santa’s sack?” he whispered, the timbre of his voice rough.

With those words and another thrust of hips, a euphoric wave washed over her as the dam broke, his name ripped from her throat in a wanton cry. Her wetness dripped out of her and around his cock, running down his balls as he gripped her hips tight. He pounded into her once, twice more before his cock pulsed, his neck straining back with a strangled grunt escaping him as long spurts of his cum coated her walls.

Y/N breathed heavily, a soft whine coming from her at the loss of him inside her, turning on wobbly legs to see him tucking himself back inside in his pants. He zipped up and straightened the top of his suit, their eyes meeting when he glanced at her. She smiled softly, moving her hand between her legs and letting out a small sigh at the way his cum dripped out of her. She gathered some of it on her fingers, bringing it to her lips and swiping her tongue across them, moaning at his musky taste.

“Thanks for a white Christmas,” she quipped.

He chuckled, plucking the Santa hat off his head and throwing it on the floor, stroking a hand through his locks. “Pleasure’s all mine, doll.”

She bit her lip as she straightened up, fixing her dress back into place but remained still as she waited for the feeling to return to her legs before she tried walking in her heels again. She eyed him as he took that little box again, catching her looking at him as he waved the little tin at her.

“You know, the afterparty’s about to start in another hour,” he started, sauntering over to her. Peering down into her eyes, he grinned as he raised his eyebrows. “It’ll pass a lot quicker if you’re up for round two.”

“And then you kick me out before the real fun starts?” she jested, resting her hand on his chest.

He shook his head, slowly, his gaze never leaving hers. “Didn’t say anything about you leaving, sugar.”

Her lips pulled up as she felt her cheeks heat up, looking down as he offered her his hand. She slipped her smaller one into his, letting him pull her into his side as he walked out of the living area. His hand left hers and moved up her back, finding the zipper of her dress and pulling it down completely. His lips were instantly at the back of her neck as he guided her towards the bedroom, neither of them ready to come up for air any time soon. In fact, it would be the early hours of the next morning when she’d eventually leave, both of them euphoric and unable to come down from the high of the party, the drugs and the mind blowing orgasms.

Maybe he was wrong all along.

Maybe it really was the most wonderful time of the year.