#Tips for Managing Holiday Homes

[especialrentals]

10 Essential Tips for Managing Holiday Homes Effectively

Managing a holiday home can be rewarding, offering both financial benefits and the satisfaction of providing memorable experiences for travelers. However, it also comes with its share of challenges. 

Whether you're new to holiday home management or looking to optimize your existing properties, these 10 essential tips for managing holiday homes will help you manage your vacation rentals more effectively, leading to happier guests, better reviews, and increased bookings.

Invest in Quality Furnishings and Amenities

First impressions matter; in the world of holiday homes, the quality of your furnishings and amenities can make or break a guest's experience. While cutting corners to save money might be tempting, investing in high-quality, durable furnishings will pay off in the long run.

Choose comfortable, sturdy furniture that can withstand frequent use

Invest in high-quality mattresses and bedding for a good night's sleep

Provide essential amenities like Wi-Fi, TV, and a well-equipped kitchen

Consider extras like board games, books, or outdoor equipment to enhance the guest experience

Remember, people mention comfortable beds and well-equipped spaces in their positive reviews! So this development might get you more bookings.

Develop a Cleaning and Maintenance Schedule

Cleanliness is paramount in the hospitality industry, even more so in the wake of global health concerns. Establish a thorough cleaning protocol and stick to it religiously.

Create a detailed cleaning checklist for your cleaning staff

Use high-quality, eco-friendly cleaning products

Pay special attention to high-touch areas like doorknobs, remote controls, and light switches

Implement a regular deep-cleaning schedule for carpets, upholstery, and other soft furnishings

Also, regular maintenance should be paid attention to prevent minor issues. Today’s negligence can be tomorrow’s burden! So pay attention.

Conduct routine inspections of appliances, plumbing, and electrical systems

Address any maintenance issues promptly

Consider preventative maintenance to avoid unexpected breakdowns

Price Your Property Competitively

One of the most important tips for managing holiday homes is to take care of their pricing. It can be one of the trickiest aspects of holiday home management. 

Price too high, and you might struggle to get bookings!

Price too low, you could be leaving money on the table.

Research comparable properties in your area to understand the market rates

Consider seasonal fluctuations and adjust your prices accordingly

Offer competitive rates for longer stays to encourage extended bookings

Use pricing tools to optimize your rates based on demand

Remember, the goal is finding the sweet spot that maximizes your occupancy and revenue.

Leverage Technology for Efficient Management

In today's digital age, numerous tools and platforms can streamline your holiday home management:

Use a property management system (PMS) to handle bookings, payments, and guest communications

Implement smart home technology for keyless entry, temperature control, and security

Use channel managers to list your property across multiple booking platforms

Utilize automated messaging systems for guest communication

These technologies can save you time, reduce errors, and provide a smoother experience for you and your guests.

Create a Stellar Online Presence

In the digital marketplace, your online presence is often the first point of contact with potential guests. Make it count, and take this tip for managing holiday homes very seriously!

Invest in professional photography to showcase your property in its best light

Write compelling, accurate descriptions of your property and its amenities

Highlight unique features and local attractions

Maintain consistent information across all listing platforms

Respond promptly and professionally to inquiries and reviews

A solid online presence can boost your visibility and appeal to potential guests.

For example, as an Airbnb Super Host, Especial Rentals updates its property descriptions and details on Airbnb, its own website, Booking.com, and many other partner platforms.

Provide Exceptional Customer Service

Outstanding customer service can turn a good stay into an unforgettable one, leading to positive reviews and repeat bookings.

Be responsive to guest inquiries before, during, and after their stay

Provide a comprehensive welcome guide with property instructions and local recommendations

Offer a warm welcome, perhaps with a personal note or a small gift

Be proactive in addressing any issues that arise during a guest's stay

Follow up after check-out to gather feedback and show you value their experience

Remember, in the holiday home industry, you're not just providing accommodation – you're creating experiences. Especial Rentals takes this measure extremely seriously. Our customer support staff is available 24/7 to cater to all time zones and address every query. 

Contact us today and resolve your doubts!

Stay Compliant with Local Regulations

The holiday home rental market is subject to various regulations, varying significantly between locations. Staying compliant is crucial to avoid legal issues and potential fines.

Research and understand local zoning laws, tax requirements, and rental regulations

Obtain any necessary permits or licenses

Ensure your property meets all safety standards, including fire safety

Keep accurate records of your rental income and expenses for tax purposes

Compliance might seem daunting, but it's essential for a responsible holiday home management.

Build a Reliable Team

Unless you live close to your holiday home and have ample free time, you'll likely need help managing your property effectively.

Build relationships with reliable local cleaners, maintenance professionals, and property managers

Consider hiring a property management company if you have multiple properties or live far away

Establish clear communication channels and expectations with your team

Regularly review and provide feedback on their performance

A trustworthy team can give you peace of mind and ensure your property is well-cared for even when you're not there. While headquartered in India, Especial Rentals has its team members in different parts of the world to ensure the smooth functioning of the property management company.

Implement a Strategic Marketing Plan

While listing sites are important, they shouldn't be your only marketing strategy. Develop a comprehensive marketing plan to reach potential guests through various channels.

Create a website for your property or properties

Utilize social media to showcase your property and engage with potential guests

Consider email marketing to past guests for repeat bookings

Explore partnerships with local businesses or tourism boards

Encourage and incentivize guest referrals

A diverse marketing strategy can help you reach a wider audience and reduce reliance on any single booking platform.

Continuously Gather and Act on Feedback

The key to long-term success in holiday home management is continuous improvement. Regularly seeking and acting on feedback can help you identify areas for enhancement and stay ahead of guest expectations.

Encourage guests to leave reviews on booking platforms

Send post-stay surveys to gather more detailed feedback

Pay attention to both positive and negative comments

Implement changes based on consistent feedback

Share improvements with past guests to encourage repeat bookings

By consistently refining your offering based on guest feedback, you can ensure your holiday home remains competitive and appealing to travelers.

Or You can List Your Rental with Especial Rentals!

Managing a holiday home effectively requires attention to detail, a commitment to guest satisfaction, and a willingness to adapt to changing market conditions. By implementing these 10 essential tips for managing holiday homes, you can create a successful and sustainable holiday home business that delights guests and provides a steady income stream.

Or you can partner with our property management company to let us take care of your vacation rental. We ensure hygiene, security, and maintenance to all the homeowners who trust us globally! Partner with us today and make travel accessible for everyone.

[bronzewool]

Just learnt there’s a TikTok trend going around where UK tourists deliberately don’t tip restaurants because they’re taking advantage of how UK cards can’t be charged twice.

Guys. I hate it just as much as you do, but if you’re not gonna follow the rules, then don’t come to visit. You don’t get to shit on tourists in your own country not following proper etiquette, but decide the rules don’t apply to you when you do it.

[salingers]

october's end.

[joel miller x f!reader]. summary: a filthy halloween night with your dad's best friend, joel miller. [you get him to briefly wear a ghostface mask. enjoy]. warnings: 18+ mdni. age gap. alcohol. au. begging. cream pie. dirty talk. dom!joel. fingering. jealous!joel. language. masked!joel. no outbreak. no use of 'y/n'. praising. smut. use of 'good girl'. use of 'slut'. unprotected piv. word count: [about] 3,800. a/n: hi! debut, written for @mermaidgirl30's halloween writing challenge. cover by me, divider by @saradika. @saradika-graphics. <3

Everything’s bigger in Texas, including Halloween. Your childhood neighborhood is locally televised each October’s end, due to every home’s enthusiastic participation. There’s an annual stoppage of traffic for the singular evening’s festivities, permitting only costumed bodies to roam the gated community’s residential roads. 

Branches draped in gauzy webs. Yards engulfed in artificial fog. A beloved holiday tradition, predating the tailend of the seventies, when Dad and Joel were elementary aged and wielding pillowcases of candies. Now, they’re fifty-somethings, bemoaning mutual back pain and cursing pesky lawn decorations.

“Here,” Joel gruffs, while individually sliding Dad two Reese’s pumpkins, from across the kitchen’s counter. “Protein break. ‘S four grams.”

Dad swipes them both up, before confirming that statement by thumbing one’s wrapper, “That ain’t bad.”

You’re quietly laughing at their supposed refueling, while stooping behind the fridge’s door and scanning the moistened shelves. There. A seasonal beer, from your favorite brewery in Austin. It’s comfortably predictable, returning home for Halloween; From Dad purchasing your favorite autumnal ales, to Joel Miller’s ruggedness.

You properly right yourself. Then, using your waist, nudge the appliance’s door shut, “Dad, where’s your bottle opener?”

Dad’s phone abruptly drones, reverberating against granite and interrupting your question; He grimaces at the caller’s illuminated identity.

You guess, “Ghostface?”

Dad laughs, before emphasizing, “Worse. My neediest client.” He abandons his barstool, continuing, “Actin’ like buildin’ up in Waco makes ‘er Joanna Gaines.” Dad apologetically nods toward you, “Joel. Will ‘ya?”

Joel’s scruffy chin tips upwards, directing you, “C’mere.”

Something’s brewing, once Dad vacates the vicinity. Your forced proximity to Joel is newly palpable; Tonight’s different. You’re obedient, in approaching him. Joel doesn’t stop staring. The bottle’s neck is being strangled, under your dominant hand. You can’t completely ward off an image of taking him into your palm.

Your minimal passage to his barstool seemed slow-motioned, almost. You’re not sure. Time’s just apparently lengthier, under Joel’s browned gaze.

 Joel grunts, fingering his carabiner of keys, attempting to sift out his bottle opener keychain, “You playin’ Michael Meyers, ‘gain? ‘Round one night, only?”

You amusedly scoff, “Keepin’ track?”

Joel shrugs, “Eight days, in eight years.”

You’re genuinely surprised that Joel’s noted your absence. Maybe, Dad revealed that specific number, correlating to your sparse appearances in Austin; Well, it could’ve been that Dad mentioned to Joel about how since your high school’s graduation, you’ve only managed to visit home yearly. That’s just basic math. Right?

You stammer, “Uh huh. ‘S my favorite holiday.”

Joel hums, before abruptly wrapping his calloused palm around the entirety of your hand and the beer bottle’s width, “Hm. ‘N that your favorite beer?”

You’re momentarily silent, muted by Joel’s warmth. A sizable hand, roughened from decades of hard labor. The tips of his delectably thick fingers begin tightening at your wrist, securing his hold as he’s standing himself up.

Even fully seated, Joel’s intimidating in size. Him standing toe-to-toe with you? That’s another story. His construction boots are weathered and worn; They would be comically large, in comparison to your measly-sized sneakers, but nothing’s funny about Joel Miller’s body mere inches from yours.

You reply by mustering an eager nod; And, whether that’s in response to Joel’s prior question pertaining your liking of the beer, or merely an approval of his nearness to you? You haven’t decided.

Joel rasps, “Anythin’ else?” He’s pulling your combined hands downward, to his waist. The carabiner’s remained attached to his belt’s loop, “That ‘ya favor?”

You’re struggling to think of something witty to retort. Because, the frayed seam of Joel’s zipper is right there. He’s deftly notching the bottle’s cap inside of the opener’s teeth; The beer crisply hisses, releasing any contained pressure.

Joel whispers, “What, darlin’? Bat got your tongue?”

You defeatedly laugh, “Somethin’ like that.”

He grins, carefully releasing you, “Taste it.”

You harshly gulp, “S–Sorry? Oh, right. T–The beer.” 

Joel agrees, “That’s right.” Then, darkly teases, “Y’know, that pretty mind ‘a yours is boundin’ for the gutter.”

He crosses his arms against his broad chest, the canvas fabric of his Carhartt jacket drawing taut. Joel’s now cocking his head, sending his gaze along the pathway from the glass vessel that you’re feebly holding, to the lower lip that you’re inadvertently biting; Daring you.

You’re feignedly bold, “Meet ‘ya there.”

You drink, even if it’s primarily to keep yourself from further stuttering. At first, it’s an adequate enough distraction; The alcohol’s frigid in temperature, soothing to the high-strung tendons of your throat, from the inside-out. Then, you’re curiously drawn to Joel’s own gulping throat, and that transient composure of yours is gone.

Joel’s devotedly watching you, his glare heady and sensual. His Adam’s apple jerks, moving atop the clenched muscles and corded veins of his neck. You’re somewhat tipping back, gathering your final mouthful, for now; You’ve drained three-fourths of it, by the time that you’ve halted your sipping.

Then, Joel’s thumb darts out, before smoothing against your glistening mouth. He drawls, “Got it lookin’ real good. Let’s see.”

You’re only narrowly audible, “Oh? Joel.” 

Joel’s tongue, deliciously large and scrubbed pink, strokes his finger. He groans, “Mm. Ain’t sure. Need ‘t sample it from the source.”

You inwardly whimper, “Yeah?”

You’re foolishly tempted to extend him the ambered bottle itself, because surely Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, would identify that as the ‘source’. Not your parted, wanting lips. Like Joel’s read your hesitant mind, he reassuringly pins your hands behind your back, easily dismissing the beer; A singular hand of his own, dwarfing the pair of your wrists.

Joel’s ghosting your lips, “Yeah.”

For good measure, Joel lightly moans, sucking his dampened digit. Humming around the pumpkin spiced suds, lapping up any residual taste from his finger. Arms restrained, spine straightened; Your chest’s rising urgently.

Joel’s own chest, delicately hairy below his threadbare t-shirt, is an odd inch away. A desperate heat’s begun permeating your lower abdomen; Achingly unfurling, taking up residency in your cunt.

Of course, it’s then that Dad’s barrelling over, having withdrawn from his nearby office, “Sorry ‘bout that, kid. Get ‘er open?”

You’re coughing out, “Y–Yep.” Then, “Thanks, Joel.”

Dropping your wrists, Joel winks, “Oh. ‘M pleasure.”

Your incriminating closeness to Joel goes unrecognized by Dad; Seeing as, Joel’s wide shoulders completely obscure you from view.

Dad sighs, “Gee, there ain’t no escapin’ this shiplap.”

Joel immediately laughs, casually reclaiming his prior barstool. The jarring segue from Joel’s flirting with you, to his joking with Dad, is absolutely disorientating. You’re fidgeting, repeatedly and silently tapping your foot. You can’t do Joel here; You’ll settle for doing last-minute Halloween preparations.

You blurt, “Goin’ to start organizin’ the candy. ‘S all in the garage, Dad?”

Dad assuredly nods, “Sure is. ‘Cept these.” He chuckles, gathering the forgotten wrappers from his earlier ‘protein break’ with Joel.

You remind him, “Don’t forget to refill the fog tanks.”

Dad, who seemingly had forgotten, regretfully snaps his fingers, “What would I do without ‘ya?” He’s bragging to Joel, “Look at ‘er.”

Joel agreeably nods. Eyeing you, “Good girl.”

Because, Dad and Joel are career contractors, who are simultaneously life-long friends and next-door neighbors, it’s only right that they’ve done an elaborate, joint Halloween for three decades; Locally dubbed the ‘Construction Fright’.

A (questionably) age-appropriate spread of horror, featuring thrifted tools that bludgeon and dismember an assortment of plastic skeletons. Hard hats, faux-bloodied and stabbed with rusted nails. Construction tape, riddled in spiderwebs.

A half-dozen, battered wheelbarrows, brimming with chocolate candies; Three brown ones, carrying Hershey’s, Rolo, and Tootsie Roll. Three orange ones, containing every imaginable variant of Reese’s. 

 You’ve already been working for nearly an hour; Arranging the color-coordinated barrows of candy. You’re jamming the recycling bin’s lid shut, overtop the cardboard and plastic wrappings of king-sized bars, when the entry door’s opened.

Dad’s entering the garage, “Sun’s settin’ soon, kid. ‘Oughta get dressed.” He lazily squeezes you in an impromptu side-hug, “Thanks, for helpin’.”

You breathily sigh, “Mhm. Oh, I need ‘t light the Jack-O-Lanterns.”

Joel appears, insisting,  “Go on, darlin’. I’ll get ‘em sweatin’ for ‘ya.”

You’re thinking, ‘That’s ridiculously slutty of him to say’, when Joel continues, this time addressing Dad, “Hey. Phone’s ringin’ over ‘gain.”

Dad sighs, “Got ‘t be kiddin’ me.” Then, grumbles, “Sure hopin’ it’s Ghostface.” He grins, lightly pinching your elbow.

You giggle, “C’mon. She can’t be that bad.”

Dad shrugs, smiling before swiftly jogging up the garage’s concrete steps; When Dad’s fully retreated inside, and the door’s naturally swung shut, Joel doesn’t waste any time pinning your body against it.

Joel whispers, “Bet ‘ya find that this pussy’s wet ‘f me, when you’re undressin’ it.” His jeaned, muscular thigh’s nudging your legs ajar.

You airily groan, “P–Please. Fuckin’ kiss me.”

Joel grins, wedging his ample thigh’s sturdy surface against your beating cunt. He kisses you; Joel Miller fuckin’ kisses you. He’s grabbing your face, thumbing your cheekbones. His lengthy fingers, scraping your skull.

His tongue’s deeply delving, eagerly exploring your mouth’s every crevasse. You can’t breathe efficiently or think coherently. Everything’s Joel. His graying beard, raking your chin; A woodsy scent, like that of the hardware store’s lumber aisles, exuding from his clothing.

You’re moaning, “Ngh.” Then, ripping at the silvery hair that’s curling against the nape of his sun-freckled neck, “More.”

Joel’s grunting, “Fuck. Need ‘t stop.” He can’t stop, and sucks your bottom lip, once more. Then, “H–Hear ‘im? He’s gainin’ on us.”

Sure enough, Dad’s approaching. It’s damn-near impossible to quit rutting along Joel’s denimed, upper leg. You’re whining, “Need ‘ya.”

Joel’s panting, “T–Tonight, darlin’.” He arousingly whispers, “All night. When the porch light’s out, sneak over.” Then, darker and deeper, “Repeat it.”

You repeat, “Tonight. When the porch light’s out, sneak over.”

You’re admittedly distracted, during the evening’s trick-or-treating segment. You understand that nothing’s allowed to appear awry around Dad, but Joel’s playing casual too well. You shouldn’t overthink, but it’s torturous; That he’s apparently unaffected. Drinking with Dad and Tommy. Never really staring at you.

Joel’s (conveniently) costumed as himself every Halloween, but himself during working hours; A leathered tool belt, cinching his tender waist. A backwards Filson hat, tamping his unkempt curls. His dirtiest ‘white’ t-shirt; The neckline’s absurdly tattered and torn, an array of holes displaying his body’s coarse hair.

Midland’s country cover of ‘Wicked Game’ is emitting from neighboring speakers. You can’t resist likening the song’s drumming pattern to your own heart’s pulsating rhythm; Yearning for Joel’s attention. Then, Dad’s whistling for your attention.

Dad’s pointing, “Look, kid. Your ‘ol boyfriend, Nick. He’s fuckin’ Ghostface.” Dad humorously roars, standing, “See ‘im? H–Hold on.”

You’re avidly protesting, but Dad’s already approaching Nick, who’s not wearing, but holding his hooded mask; Fingers cupping the elongated, rubbery chin. There’s nothing inherently wrong about him; He (morally) should be your holiday hook-up, not your dad’s best friend. It’s too bad.

Joel snipes, “Dick?”

You tut, “It’s Nick.”

Joel’s feigning understanding, “Oh, Prick.”

You’re unsure what’s initiated this potent sexual tension, but it’s consumed your every thought this Halloween; While, Joel’s every word is loaded. His irritated sarcasm’s gunned your way. Any bickering’s uncommon, for the pair of you. You’re hoping that Tommy’s too busy proffering candy to notice.

Dad’s returned, towing Nick, “Weren’t we just talkin’ ‘bout him, kid? So funny.” Dad, and his dorky penchant for inside-jokes.

Nick cluelessly smiles, “Hi, you.”

You politely reply, “Hi, yourself.”

Nick’s extending his hand, summoning you from your designated seat, “Got ‘t see this costume.” Then, he’s declaring you, “Stunning.”

You’re incredulously laughing, “They’re bloodied overalls.”

Nick grins, persisting, “Love ‘em. Also, this apron’s awesome.” He’s thumbing your accessory’s front, tracing the logo, “Carhartt girl, huh?”

You’re aiming to get under Joel’s skin with, “Scream girl, too.” You inspect Nick’s black robe, feeling his arm’s draping sleeve.

Oh, Joel Miller’s jealous. He’s rolling his earthy-toned eyes; Aggressively peeling his beer’s damp label, while instigating Dad, “Hearin’ this?”

Dad’s indifferent, shrugging. He’s always approved of Nick for you; He’s Texan, and plays Minor League Baseball. That’ll do it.

Nick’s pleading, “Let’s please walk ‘round, sweep the neighborhood?”

Joel snarks, “Hell. Reckon he’s recruitin’ for Neighborhood Watch?”

Nick’s nervously smiling, having not heard Joel’s dig, but surely hearing Dad and Tommy’s abrupt snickering.

You kindly respond, “Let’s. Love seein’ the decorations.”

It’s nine-thirty. Your street’s grown habitually sparse; Toddlers, having resigned to stringent bedtimes. Teens, having retreated to erupting parties.

You decipher Joel’s looming silhouette; His rocking chair’s creaking, upon the dimmed porch’s planks. A gleaming tumbler of (presumably) whiskey is resting against his crossed leg, the glass winking at you.

Joel’s dragging his index finger’s edge against his groomed mustache, thumbing his angrily tightened jaw. He rasps, “Ain’t walk ‘ya home?” 

You’re ascending his porch’s tread, “Didn’t need that. Told ‘im so.” Then, untying your apron’s chaotic knot, “Uncross your leg, Joel.”

Joel’s pleasingly pliant; He warns, “That’s the only order that I’m takin’ tonight.” His lap’s deliciously spreading, “Get ‘t drawin’ the blinds.”

The anticipation’s wetting you. You’re immediately scampering along the porch’s perimeter, rolling down every privacy blind; Joel’s patiently swigging his auburn liquor. You whimper, “A–Anythin’ else?”

Joel’s rolling the wick of his adjacent kerosene lantern; Thrusting his opened lap, scrounging his Zippo lighter from an anterior pant pocket. His hand’s arousingly veined, while flicking the lighter’s flint wheel.

He belatedly replies, “Drop your apron. Undo your overalls.”

You’ve dropped the apron, and something’s spilling out from the largest pocket; Joel’s deeply exhaling, “Explain that.”

The lamp’s emitting faint light, fire illuminating his hardening expression. He’s so scarily sexy. You’re inching nearer, but Joel hoists his palm, stopping you.

You embarrassedly gulp, “N–Nick’s mask. Asked me ‘t hold it. He never wore it.”

Joel’s impatient, waving, “And?”

You’re tentatively unhooking your denimed straps, gently uttering, “W–Would ‘ya? Wear it?”

Joel’s mildly surprised, “Oh?” Deciding, “Bring it here. On your knees.”

You instantly kneel, before gathering up the discarded disguise using your teeth. You’re crawling to Joel, crossing the porch’s dully-lit surface. The bib upon your overalls undone; The garment’s buckling loops clinking.

Joel involuntarily moans, “Ngh. Dirty fuckin’ girl.” His index finger’s pumping from his balled up fist, signaling you.

Your pussy’s thumping, because of his commanding, curling digit. You’re itching to suck it. You need anything of Joel’s inside of you.

You’ve gradually reached Joel; You’re being caged in-between his lengthy legs. Joel forcibly pinches your face, removing the mask from your bite’s grasp. The item’s resultantly spat, against his abutted groin.

He’s astonished at the filthy sight, rustling, “How ‘bout that.” You’re resting on your haunches, while Joel praises, “Good girl.”

Joel’s abruptly leaning downward, before hungrily lifting your body’s entirety along his own. He’s immediately kissing you, sinking against the rocking chair’s curved spine; The porch’s cedar ground sighs, creakily duetting with Joel’s groans.

You’re practically siphoning the remnant whiskey from his tongue’s cushioned pad; Your mouth’s rabidly sucking, while your waist’s desperately grinding.

Joel’s bypassing your denimed, disoriented trousers; His palm’s greedily grasping your back’s arched column. His remaining arm, ladling your ass. Then, Joel’s effortlessly hauling your goosebumped figure upward; The rocking chair’s momentum being an assistant. The mask’s wedged in-between your upright bodies.

Joel breathes, “T–The lamp. Hang tight.” You’re licking Joel’s partially bearded throat; He’s briefly hunching, responsibly lowering the wick, consequently extinguishing the flame. Your quartet of limbs, wrapping his flexing torso.

You’re whispering, “You’re so big and strong, Joel.”

He amusedly sighs, “Yeah?” Promising, “Ain’t seen nothin’.”

Then, Joel’s roughly stamping your body against the front door’s exterior; His bulge swelling, pinning your pussy. The entry knob’s blindly twisted. Joel’s heavy-footed steps are reverberated, crunching his home’s metallic threshold.

First, Joel carelessly clears his entry way’s waist-heighted table. Juggling you, while his tanned arm’s sweeping everything off; A ceramic, coffee-stained mug of loose change’s completely shattered. Second, Joel harshly kicks his anterior door shut; There’s an impressive boot print, left behind.

Joel’s panting, “Tell me ‘t stop?”

You’re begging, “K–Keep goin’.”

He hums, “Hm. Need it, darlin’?” Joel’s hurriedly planting you upon the table’s cleared crest, kissing your nodding throat. Agreeing, “Yeah. You do.”

It’s dizzyingly hot; Joel gruffly ripping off your mussed overalls, easily tugging off your slip-on sneakers. He’s lobbing them across the room, away from the mess of coins and shards. You’re noticing the Ghostface mask, under his unmoving bicep.

Joel’s noticing you, “This what ‘ya want?” He’s hesitantly thumbing the mask’s gaping jaw. “Ain’t scared?”

You quietly say, “Like ‘t be scared.” You’re reaching upward, prying off his hat; His hair’s deliciously gray and tousled. “Here.”

Joel’s flinging his accessory away. Then, handing you the hooded, horror mask, “Go ‘head.” He warns, “Wearin’ it ‘till you’re comin’. Understand?”

You’re stroking his untidy hair, readying him, “Won’t be long.” You murmur, “S–Soppin’ for ‘ya.”

Joel’s grunting, “Fuck’s sake.” Kissing you, in-between threatening, “Filthy. ‘Oughta edge ‘ya. Talkin’ like that.”

He impatiently rings your wrists; You’re positioning the mask properly overhead. The draping fabric’s hitting Joel’s colossal shoulders. 

Your pulse’s hammering, “Oh.”

The mask’s milky-colored expression, surveying you. Stark, against the setting of Joel’s unlighted home. His index finger’s impulsively traveling your body; Dragging over your bottom lip’s dampened flesh. Then, carnally downard, riding your throat. Fingering your jugular’s delicate divet. Hooking your undershirt’s airy collar.

Joel’s taunting, “Heart’s racin’.”

You’re anguishly rutting against his console table’s lacquered top. You need to be touched. You beg, “J–Joel. Oh, Joel.”

Joel’s eerily tilting his head, “Pussy’s racin’ like that, too?” Whispering, “Ain’t it?”

You’re deliriously horny, “Yes.”

He’s humming, “Hm. Shirt’s got ‘t go, first.” His unoccupied hand’s rummaging his hind pocket, while, “Reckon that my knife’ll work?”

You’re pleading, “C–Cut it off.”

Then, Joel’s brandishing his utility knife. The blade’s expertly flicked outward. He urges, “Try ‘t hold still.”

Joel Miller’s carving your fucking shirt; His blade’s blunt edge skimming your sternum. He’s effortlessly halved it, forging an impromptu vest. He’s instantaneously shoving the garment overtop your rigid shoulders.

The knife’s frigid handle brushes your tapered nipple; Joel’s awaiting permission, hovering your underwear’s waistline. You’re nodding, kneading his large shoulders. His finger’s hitching the material, before his blade’s cutting it.

Snipping the remaining side, Joel grunts, “Cunt need stuffin’?” He’s pocketing your saturated underwear and his retracted knife, “I know it’s wet ‘nough to take two fingers.”

You’ve been fantasizing about Joel entering you all Halloween. And, finally; He does. He’s groaning, “S–Swallowin’ both of ‘em. ‘Jus like that?”

Your angling head’s hitting the paneled wall. You’re obscenely squelching around his battering digits. You belatedly respond, “JoelJoelJoelJoel.”

Joel’s roughened wrist’s repeatedly rubbing your beating clit. You’re clenching speechlessly around him, innately meeting every re-entry. Your spine’s warming; Your stomach’s taut.

Your arousal’s watering his driving hand; His palm’s pooling. Joel’s incessantly steady. Praising, “Comin’ up. Doin’ good.”

You’re gasping, “There. Oh, right there.”

The instant that you’re coming, Joel’s yanking off his hindering mask. His beard’s patchy and sweaty. He grins, “Man ‘a my word.”

Then, Joel’s amused mouth’s pounding upon your own; He’s desperately inhaling your breaking moans. Licking your teeth’s underside. 

You’re abundantly squirting, as Joel’s uncorking your cunt. Your spotting vision’s correcting leisurely. You’re languidly sighing; Breathing deeply.

He’s genuinely insane for drinking you from his cupped palm. Then, Joel’s mouthing his soggy fingers; Hitting knuckle. You’re blurting, “Need ‘t fuck.”

Joel’s arching his aging brow; Rasping, “Ask nicely.” Then, he’s towing your body overtop his broad shoulder. Spanking you, “Greedy fuckin’ girl.”

You’re nakedly suspended, Joel’s bicep rippling below your ass. He’s entering his living room; Carefully placing you across his cognac-colored sectional. You’re propping upon the chaise’s leathered cushions. You whine, “Please, Joel.”

Joel’s tutting, “Better’n that.” 

You supply, “Pretty please?”

He’s gradually moving nearer; His denim-clad shins, butting the couch’s edge. Joel’s unhurriedly thumbing his belt’s loop, painfully prolonging his removing it. You’re wetting and writhing against his furniture’s fabric.

Joel’s unimpressed, “C’mon.”

Shedding his accessory; Working his zipper. His acting arm’s so freckled, tanned, veined. Joel’s yanking his t-shirt overhead, before subsequently revealing an appetizing, softened tummy. His happy trail’s graying and wiry.

You’re begging, “Joel. Please.”

He’s winking, “Good ‘nough.”

Every sound’s tantalizing; Joel’s boots and pants, thumping across the carpet. His bare, bulky thigh’s abruptly rubbing against your naked pussy; Then, Joel’s mirroring your body’s horizontal position. Mounting you.

Your arousal’s drenching his underwear’s front; His length’s largely tenting the humid material, “Beggin’ like that. Fuckin’ slut.”

You’re involuntarily panting, when Joel’s finally and fully undressed. His cock’s deliciously girthy. The tip’s engorged, reddened and seeping; Erecting far beyond his belly’s button.

You’re whimpering, “PleasePleasePlease.”

Joel grins, “Cunt’s quiverin’. Feelin’ that?”

You desperately nod, “Need you ‘t feel it.”

Joel’s immediately pistoning his fleshy waist; His cock’s knocking your cervix’s wall. His rough thrusting’s fastly inching your bodies upward, until your head’s rearing the sofa’s supple tailend.

He whispers, “Warm ‘nough?”

You gasp, “C–Cock’s perfect.”

Joel’s inaudibly responding; Ramming your hand, palming your pelvis. You’re feeling his cock, below your abdomen’s exterior. He’s interlocking your fingers; His own swallowing yours; Pressing. You’re practically tracing his bulbous, twitching tip.

He’s praising, “Takin’ me well.”

Joel’s bottoming-out, pounding steadily; His bloated, weighty balls welting your taint. Your clit’s puffing, from his pubic bone’s rhythmic route. Dementedly fucking you. You’re moaning, “Ah. F–Fuck.”

He murmurs, “Cunt’s gulpin’ me.” Joel’s hooking your knee’s underside, before lugging it overtop his broad shoulder’s slope, “Needy fuckin’ hole.”

You’re stammering, “Ngh. M–Mm. RightThereRightThere.”

Then, Joel’s angling deeper, differently; Laying his body’s robust weight against your languid, vertical leg. Your foot’s achingly surpassing your head. His chest hair’s graying and saturated; Scraping you.

Your pussy’s overwhelmingly spasming. Joel’s messily tonguing your nipple’s peak; His mustache’s prickling the sensitive skin. You’re tugging at his hair’s curling strands, “J–Joel. Close.”

Joel’s echoing your prior words, “Meet ‘ya there.”

You’re shockingly surprised, that Joel’s remembered the momentary retort; Your faux-bold response and pumpkin spiced alcohol. That’s it. You’re blindly coming. His cock’s densely brimming your contracting hole; Hammering you.

Your pussy’s pornographically sloshing. Joel whimpers, “A–’Atta girl. Drenchin’ it.” Then, “Comin’ inside. ‘M snipped. Yeah?”

You’re immediately kissing him. Palming his beard’s rugged stubble. Sucking his tongue’s pink pores; Tasting your arousal’s heady flavoring.

His climaxing moan’s roaring down your throat; Cum rapidly spurting, coating your cunt. You’re rubbing his rolling eye’s crinkled grooves. His forehead’s tanned and wrinkled. Joel’s especially gorgeous, while cumming hard.

You’re pouring, when Joel’s unplugging you. He’s breathlessly cursing, “Fuckin’ hot.” Standing, “Gettin’ towels. Need anythin’ else? Water?”

You’re beginning to respond, when Joel’s unexpectedly bending; Kissing you. You smile, tapping your bottom lip, “What’s that for?”

Joel’s embarrassedly pointing, toward the nearby microwave’s blinking clock. He explains, “Ten thirty-one on October thirty-first. ‘Dunno. Good luck? Make ‘a wish or somethin’.”

You’re actually dumbfounded, “Oh? You’re absurdly cute.”

Joel frowns, “Ain’t allowed ‘t call me that. ‘Specially while leakin’ my seed.” He’s nakedly turning, preparing to walk, “Water?”

You’re pulling Joel’s hand, “Wait. Want ‘t hear your wish.”

He gulps, “That… You’ll be visitin’ home on Thanksgivin’.”

[punkshort]

Red Lace & Holiday Cheer

Thank you anon for this prompt!

Pairing: (ex)pornstar!joel miller x f!reader (established relationship)

Summary: While visiting him at work, you decide to give Joel his Christmas present early.

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, fingering, reader wears lingerie

WC: 4K

Roommates Masterlist

The bar was loud.

It was three days before Christmas. Students on break from college had come home to visit their families for the holidays but the first chance they got, they made plans to connect with friends they hadn't seen since summer. The entire street was packed with twenty-something year olds, every bar was filled to the brim, including the one Joel owned.

You had helped him decorate it for the holidays just two weeks prior. A small Christmas tree with chunky, multi-colored lights sat in the front. Twinkling white lights framed each large window and a garland was wrapped around the door. You even managed to find a spot for a couple large wreaths above the bar.

From your spot on the dance floor with Maria, you could just barely see Tommy's head. He was pouring drinks as fast as possible, hardly giving himself a chance to breathe. Surprisingly, Joel was no where to be found. If you had to guess, he was either bringing up a keg or doing his rounds on the floor, checking in with patrons and seeing if they needed anything while also keeping an eye out for trouble makers.

He had really grown into the role as a bar owner. It seemed like the perfect fit after he had quit the adult film industry. Not only was he his own boss, but he got to work with his brother. Your only complaint was the long nights, although you and Maria tried to frequent the bar at least once a week to see them while they worked. Typically, there was plenty of time to talk, but the week of Christmas had the bar feeling like more of a nightclub.

"Where's Joel?" Maria shouted over the music. You fanned your sweaty chest with your hand and scanned the crowded room.

"I don't know! Don't think I've seen him all night!" you yelled back. You checked the time and frowned. You always saw him at least once, even when it's busy, before midnight. He always sought you out, no matter what. You turned back to Maria with a look of concern.

"I'm gonna go see if I can find him!"

She nodded and gave you a thumbs up before turning her back, still swaying along with the music.

You pushed your way through the crowd, making a face when drunk frat boys or some familiar looking locals who were trying their luck with the college girls accidentally bumped into you. After what felt like an eternity of almost getting beer sloshed down your bright red dress from clueless patrons, you finally bellied up to the bar. You leaned over the edge of the wood, catching Tommy's eye. He nodded in your direction and you sat back on your heels as you waited for him to finish up at the other end of the bar.

"What you need, sugar?" Tommy yelled over the noise. Your gaze flickered down to his cheesy Christmas shirt and grinned.

"Is that thing getting you any extra tips?"

He shook his head and you laughed. "Nah, but it's fun. Tryin' to get into the spirit!"

"It was Maria's idea, wasn't it?" you yelled.

"Hundred percent!" he shouted back. You heard others off to your right trying to get his attention so you cut to the chase.

"Where's Joel?"

"Office! He was on the phone with some vendor last I saw 'em."

You nodded and shot him a thumbs up before you began your second journey, although mercifully it was shorter. His office was just down a short hallway behind the bar. Still, the crowd was thickest and rowdiest right where you were trying to walk. You had almost made it unscathed when you heard a curse and felt a splash of some cold liquid down your arm.

"Shit!" you exclaimed. You began to flick your arm of any excess when a young man's voice shouted out to you.

"I'm sorry!" he slurred, but when you looked up and your eyes locked, a slow smirk stretched across his face. He couldn't have been more than twenty-two, surrounded by his buddies who were giving him little shoves in your direction. He took a few steps forward and held out his hand.

"I'm Chris," he offered. "Lemme buy you a drink, make it up to you."

His eyes slithered up and down your body, clearly appreciating the short red Christmas dress you had chosen to wear that night.

"Thanks, but I'm fine," you said, giving him a wave and turning back towards the bar. He tapped your shoulder and you swiveled around.

"C'mon, it's the least I could do. Almost ruined that gorgeous dress of yours," he tried while licking his lips.

You sighed and crossed your arms.

"I'm dating the guy who owns this place. I can drink for free," you snapped, patience growing thin when you added, "And have anyone thrown out."

Chris whistled and rose his hands in defeat.

"Alright, suit yourself."

He backed away towards his friends and you made quick work of pushing through the remaining crowd to get back behind the bar. The moment you stepped foot in the small hallway, it already felt calmer. You sashayed a little drunkenly past the breakroom and employee bathroom before stopping at the closed door at the end of the hall that had a stocking hanging from it with Joel's name painted in glitter. With excitement tingling under your skin, you rapped your knuckles softly against the wood and pressed your ear against the door.

"It's open!"

The old door squeaked on its hinges when you opened it and slipped inside, smiling when you saw Joel hunched over his desk, scribbling something on an invoice. His office wasn't much to look at; dingy old laminate floors, a desk that looked like it was from the seventies, two tall file cabinets that were overflowing and shoved in a corner, and one measly light above your head that had one bulb burnt out. But it was peaceful. It was quiet. And by that point, it reminded you of Joel. His cologne hung in the air, even when he hadn't been in the room for hours. On top of one filing cabinet was a decorative Christmas tree and on the back of his door was a wreath, both of which you put in there when he wasn't paying attention.

He finally looked up and you saw the tension instantly drain from his face when he saw it was you.

"Hey," he said softly, dropping his pen so he could stand to greet you, chair groaning from the loss. He rounded the desk and pulled you into his arms. Your mouths sought each other out like magnets and you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck with a contented sigh when you finally felt his lips on you once again.

"Where have you been?" you pouted, gazing up at him while still hanging around his neck. His hands flattened against your back, the material of your dress bunching a little and exposing your legs even more.

"Been busy workin'. Sorry, darlin'. Lost track of time," he told you, but his eyes were drifting down your dress. "You been here this whole time wearin' this thing?"

"What? You don't like it?" you teased.

Joel scoffed and shook his head. "Like it a little too much. What's the occasion?" He finally dragged his eyes back up to meet yours.

"The occasion is it's Christmas," you said while your fingers began to fiddle with the short hairs on the back of his neck.

"Christmas ain't for a few more days."

"Well, maybe I wanted to give you your gift early," you smirked. Joel groaned in the back of his throat and pulled you closer so your body was pressed tightly against his. You began to pepper kisses along his neck, pausing when you reached his pulse to whisper, "Unless, that is, you're too busy."

"Lock the fuckin' door," he said lowly. A shiver rolled down your spine and you spun out of his hold to do exactly as he asked.

"Can't just wait, huh?" Joel scolded while he undid his belt and dropped it to the floor. You bit your lip, heart skipping excitedly in your chest as you backed up towards his desk. You stopped when you felt the edge press into the backs of your thighs and grinned.

"Sorry. I just thought you'd really want to open it now." You reached one arm behind you and slowly tugged at your zipper. Joel's eyes darted to lock onto the movement while his hands worked on opening his pants. You could tell he was loving every second of your little show. His lips were parted, breath coming in short pants, and his neck was already growing flush.

When your dress felt loose, you knew you reached the end of the zipper. Your chest heaved with anticipation before finally wiggling out of your dress and letting it fall to your feet.

You weren't lying. You really did have something for him under your clothes, although scraps of material like a see-through red teddy with a plunging neckline was difficult to define as anything substantial.

His eyes immediately bugged out of his head.

"Oh, Christ," he choked out. You giggled, pleased to have taken him by surprise. You hardly ever had the upper hand in the bedroom, not with the experience he brought by being an ex-pornstar, but on that day, you did.

His face paled when he saw your body in that teddy. Well, considering how much skin he could actually see through it, it hardly felt like you were wearing much at all, but Joel didn't seem to see it that way. He was absolutely hypnotized, completely unable to look away. His eyes greedily raked over every inch of you and you smiled to yourself when you realized he hadn't even yet noticed the panties you were wearing were crotchless.

"You like it?" you asked when his gawking had gone on long enough. You twirled so he could see the back, his throat bobbing when he saw the way your ass was exposed in your barely there panties. Joel forced his eyes up when you stood before him expectantly, feeling so excited and nervous that you had to bounce from foot to foot.

"You look beautiful," he finally whispered. You grinned and reached out both hands for him, laughing a little when he stumbled over his own feet to join you. As thrilled as you were to throw Joel off his game, it incited something deep within you when he took control again. He crowded you against his desk and dragged his hands fucking everywhere. Down your arms, over your stomach, across your back, feeling the lacy material under his big hands. And only when one hand cupped your breast and the other reached down to squeeze your ass did your own breath get stolen away.

"You're a bad girl," he murmured against the shell of your ear. Your eyelids fluttered closed as heat pooled between your legs, torturous and aching. "Wearin' this all night while I sat back here fightin' on the phone 'bout goddamn shipping rates?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth but it quickly melted into a gasp when his teeth pinched your skin, right under your ear.

"Joel," you moaned his name, tipping your head back while his mouth dragged down the column of your throat. You reached between your bodies, fingers searching for the inevitable bulge you knew you would find, and smiling to yourself when you felt his cock jump under your touch.

"Gonna let me fuck you?" you heard him ask. His lips trailed across your collarbone to begin their ascent up the opposite side of your neck. "Right here? In the back of a dirty bar?"

"I'd let you fuck me anywhere," you rasped, hopping up onto his desk and spreading your legs. He stepped between your knees, face buried against your throat and hips pressing stubbornly against your center as he continued to leave red marks across your chest and neck. He chuckled, the vibration from his voice sending shockwaves from your pulse point to the bottom of your stomach.

"Gonna hold you to that one day."

You were in a lust filled haze, completely absorbed with the way Joel kissed you, deep and messy and urgent, to notice when his hand traveled lower. His fingertips grazed between your legs, right where a thin strip of fabric should have been, but to his shock and delight, found nothing except your bare, leaking pussy.

"Fuck me," he groaned, leaning back to get a good look. He swiped his thumb through your slit and you whimpered, causing his dark eyes to snap up to yours with a deadly smirk.

"You liked this, huh?" His fingers spread your folds while your arms began to shake, propped up behind you and ready to collapse. "You liked dancin' around in that short dress, knowin' this soft little pussy was naked under there, waitin' for me to fuck her?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster. Not a single word could be formed in that moment when his middle finger prodded at your opening, testing you, before sinking inside. You tossed your head back with a shaky moan and spread your legs wider, encouraging him to continue, to give you more.

You could only imagine how you looked in that moment; elbows holding you up with your head hanging back between your shoulders in bliss, legs spread wide while wearing slutty Christmas lingerie across his desk as music thumped steadily through the walls. However it looked, though, was worth the hungry way Joel stared down at you with his hand working slowly between your thighs, one thick finger curling but purposely not touching the spot that made you come undone.

Your hips wiggled as you tried to chase his hand, desperate for him to give you what you needed, but he held you down, stilling your movements.

"Quit it."

"Joel," you whined, but he shook his head.

"This is my gift, remember?" he tutted.

He pulled out his finger and you huffed, frustrated. With heavy lidded eyes, you watched him pop the finger that was just inside of you into his mouth. He made a satisfied noise while reaching inside his pants. The second he pulled out his cock, your eyes drifted down and watched as he slowly stroked himself up and down.

You should have been used to him by then, but it never failed to send a wave of nerves through you when you saw the sheer size of him, something that served him very well in his old career and now something only you benefitted from.

One of his hands planted itself at your hip when he came to stand between your legs and he began to drag the tip of his cock through your arousal. You sighed and went to lay down flat across his desk, but he stopped you.

"Nuh uh. Want you to watch," he muttered. You caught his eye and your heart flipped in your chest at the look he gave you. You swallowed tightly and gave him a brief nod, confirming you would do as he asked. Then and only then did he drop his gaze to between your legs, spreading your lips with his thumbs to make room for the thick head of his cock to rest at your opening.

You watched together as he pressed forward ever so slightly, just barely kissing your pussy before pulling back entirely. He did it again and when he shifted back a second time, you gave him a pathetic little whine. His eyes darted back up to yours and he grinned.

"Be patient."

"C'mon, Joel... it's Christmas," you pouted. He chuckled, his stern facade fading, and shook his head.

"Alright," he breathed, and half a second later jut his hips forward, feeding you half his length in one pass. You gasped sharply and fell backwards onto his desk, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

He cursed under his breath, dragging himself back until just his tip remained sheathed inside you, then pushed forward once again, but that time he gave you every devastating inch of his impressive cock. You both gasped, sucking all the air out of the room with your heavy, quick panting as you each struggled to adjust.

"Goddamn," he murmured. Your eyes were squeezed shut, mouth agape as you focused on the stretch, but you pried them open so you could confirm he was just as wrecked as you felt.

"Oh, honey, you look fuckin' beautiful like this." His eyes were fixated on where you were connected, where red lace framed your exposed cunt. His dark eyes snapped up to yours when he very seriously added, "We're gonna get alotta use out of this gift, baby."

"That was the idea," you giggled breathlessly. There was a loud cheer through the walls when the song changed. It sounded like a bunch of guys right up against the bar, just twenty or thirty feet away who had no idea you were about to get fucked within an inch of your life.

"Good song," Joel said casually. He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly began to rock his hips. Your mind went quiet, not a single thought drifting through your head except for how good it felt when he bottomed out inside you.

He was gentle at first. He knew he was alot to take so he always started with shallow thrusts, paying close attention to your cues. When your thighs relaxed and your breathing evened out, that was when he began to give it to you faster. Harder. Deeper. It was only a few minutes until his hips slammed into yours so forcefully that it had your back arching and your hand scrambling to hold onto the edge of the desk above you.

"Fuck - fuck - fuck," he huffed, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips. You whined and squirmed across the desk, trying to catch your breath. One of Joel's hands pressed flat against the desk for leverage, the other roughly gripped your waist to hold you steady, and his eyes remained fixated on the way your body stretched to accommodate his size. Every single time, it amazed him.

A loud knock came from the door. Your eyes locked, his hips slowed, and you shook your head. You mouthed the word don't. He made a face but acquiesced, then continued to fuck you, just slower and quieter. A second loud knock came and an annoyed Tommy yelled out, "Joel? C'mon, man, we need more Coors."

"Have fuckin' Steve do it, I'm busy!" he shouted back. You scowled then stifled a moan when he ground himself against you, rubbing your clit with the coarse hairs at the base of his shaft.

"Steve's on break!"

Joel snarled and reared back, grabbing the underside of both your knees and tugging you close.

"Gimme five minutes!" he yelled, voice only slightly giving away your compromising position when it cracked near the end of his sentence.

"Five?" you whispered with a disappointed look.

"Ten! Ten minutes!"

Finally you heard Tommy grumble under his breath and retreat back down the hall.

"I'll make you come in five minutes," Joel panted with a cocky grin. He began to pummel into you harder once again, picking up right where he left off. "Wanted to bend you over and come all over that perfect ass, but I'll save that for next time."

You groaned and tilted your chin to the ceiling as you felt that familiar tightness begin to pull low in your belly. Joel shifted, adjusting the way he was standing between your legs, and you cried out when the tip of his cock began to stroke against that spot that had you seeing stars. Blindly, you reached out to hold onto something, but only ended up scattering unpaid invoices and receipts onto the floor.

Words failed you. Heat flared deep inside, bright hot flames roaring to life in mere seconds that had your muscles going rigid and your spine curling off the desktop. There was no warning. There was nothing you could do except give into the intense pleasure as you choked on your words.

"Oh, shit," Joel grunted, hand reaching between you to rub firm circles over your clit. "S-shit, you're gonna come," he gasped right as your cunt clamped down around him. You wailed out a broken version of his name, legs trembling around his waist. He quickly fell forward, his body covering yours, and your lips connected in messy, wild kisses. Seconds later and with a deep groan echoing inside your mouth, Joel came, filling you with his thick, hot release until his cock stopped twitching and a shudder shot through his entire body.

You whimpered Joel's name and that was when he realized you were shaking violently. With his chest still heaving, he propped himself onto his elbows and slid his cock from between your legs before gathering you up in his arms and holding you close, enveloping you with his warmth.

"I got you," he murmured over and over into your hair. You nodded weakly, head still buzzing and hands still shaking. Slowly, your eyes reopened. Your pulse began to slow and your breaths grew deeper each time you pulled in air. You nuzzled your face into his shoulder, sighing from the comforting strokes of his hand over your back.

"You okay?" he asked after a few quiet minutes. You nodded and took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne mixing with his deodorant calming your frayed nerves even more.

"That was... intense," you whispered, lips searching for his throat. Joel continued to soothingly rub your back.

"You did so good, baby."

You smiled and nipped gently at his skin. "Did you enjoy your present?"

Joel's chest rumbled with a soft chuckle before he responded.

"This little number was a beautiful gift, but I don't need any of it, you know that, right?" he asked. "All I want is you."

"Are you saying that all you want for Christmas is... me?" You grinned when you leaned back to look up at him hazily. Joel laughed at your corny joke and cupped your face with both his hands to pull you in for a tender kiss.

"Yeah," he murmured against your lips. "Man can't ask for much else when he's already got everythin' he needs in one perfect little package."

You wrapped your arms around his neck as your cheeks warmed from his compliment. "I love you," you told him earnestly. Every time he heard those words, it made him smile.

"I love you, too."

Right when he leaned down for another kiss, a loud knock cracked against the door.

"Joel! The Coors!"

"God-fuckin'-" Joel grumbled before shouting, "I'm comin' right now! Jesus Christ!"

His eyes found yours and he gave you an apologetic look.

"You gonna be alright? Just gimme a few minutes-"

"I'm good," you told him with a firm nod, then gave his chest a little shove, pushing him towards the door. "Go. You have a bar to run."

He tucked himself back into his pants with a hiss and swiveled around before locating a box of tissues and handing them to you.

"Lock the door after I leave. This," he dragged his finger up and down in the air, indicating your skimpy lingerie, "is just for me to see."

"Yes, sir," you giggled with your legs still dangling over the edge of his desk. He shook his head in disbelief and fixed his shirt before disappearing out into the hallway.

Slowly, you cleaned yourself up as best you could and fixed the teddy before slipping your dress back on, concealing your little secret once again. You had your hand on the doorknob, poised to leave, when a thought occurred to you. Quickly, you shimmied your panties down your legs and hurried behind his desk to drop them in one of his drawers. You smiled proudly to yourself and headed back towards the door, already planning what new set you should surprise him with for Valentine's Day.

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[thetriumphantpanda]

freedom felt like summer | joel miller

Summary | Weeks of flirting back and forth with your neighbour Joel all comes to a head when he makes sure every inch of you in covered in suncream.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 2.6K

Warnings | Explicit - reader wears a bikini and uses sun cream but is otherwise a blank slate. Alcohol consumption. Swearing, flirting, and dirty talk. Explicit smut - oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected PiV smut, creampie. No outbreak au and no use of y/n.

Authors Note | We've had a slither of sun in the UK and this is what happens. Big thanks to @undercoverpena for the shorts idea ;) I hope you enjoy! If you do, please consider reblogging, leaving comments or leaving a tip via my Ko-Fi.

Divider by the wonderful @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

There’s nothing quite like an Austin summer. Hot sun beating down, but with the new pool your parents had built when you’d moved out and their fully stocked fridge of soda and ice, it wasn’t too bad at all.

They’d gone on their annual holiday, two weeks in Mexico, which meant you had two weeks of lounging by the pool, soaking up the sun and bleeding them for their food and drinks. No responsibilities, is what you’d told yourself, laptop shut and job applications waiting, whilst you soaked the sun into your skin and made margaritas too strong once the clock struck 1pm.

The heat across your skin had dried the chlorine water quickly, coconut scented suncream slathered across every inch you could reach, not worrying about your back because it was pressed against the back of the lounger. You’re just started to drift off, eyes closing behind your sunglasses, when a voice jolts you.

“You manage to reach your back with that?”

There’s a small smirk that flashes across your mouth, quickly bitten away by your teeth as you sit up and turn around a little, looking over to the fence where Joel Miller is leaning over, pointing to the bottle of suncream on the small table next to you.

“Hard to reach there when it’s just me,” You shrug, “But it’s okay, it’s not getting any of the sun anyhow.”

He shakes his head and makes a tsk sound with his tongue against his teeth, “Don’t mean you shouldn’t try and cover it,” He says, sounding more like your dad than you’d care to admit, “The sun ain’t gonna look at that lounger and think it can’t burn you.”

“Well, I'm here on my own,” You offer, “Unless you’re gonna volunteer to smear it on my back, Miller, I'm gonna have to risk it.”

You can see him thinking over the fence, wondering if this is a good idea, much like he’s been thinking since you came home - degree done, jobs waiting - he’d flirted with you at your dad’s cookout in honour of you graduating, swapped numbers with you the day your parents left for vacation ‘in case you needed him’, and has spent the last week making any excuse to peek his head over the fence and talk to you, specifically when you’re out in your bikini, mostly when you’re dripping wet from coming out of the pool.

He holds his finger up and then disappears from view, only to come back seconds later through the gate at the bottom of your garden that connects your land with his. Your dad had been weary of it at first, but as soon as he’d met Joel, they’d hit it off, and now the gate is used more than the front door when they want to drink together.

He’s dressed simply, a pair of jeans and a worn t-shirt. Too stifling for you, you think, but you know he’s spent most of his life on building sites, so he must be used to the heat of the sun on his skin. Joel comes to a stop near the small table, but instead of picking up the bottle of cream, he opts for the half-empty glass of margarita you’d made not too long ago. He takes a sip and makes a face, which makes you laugh.

“Never understand how you women like this stuff.”

Setting the glass down, he picks up the bottle of cream and flips the lid, motioning for you to sit up, which you do, turning on the lounger so your back is facing him. The bottle of cream is really on its last legs, coming to the very end, so you can hear the bottle express more air than cream the first time he squeezes it. You hear him rubbing his hands together and then feel him step a little closer to your back.

“Ready?” He asks, voice low, to which you nod your head.

Then his hands are on you and it’s better than you ever had thought. They’re rough against your skin, but the way they’re gliding across your back is gentle. His hands drag the cream down your spine to the band of your bikini top, before he’s working it into your skin, all the way up to the nape of your neck. You can feel your head tipping forward, struggling to stifle a groan when you feel him gently shift one of the straps of your top down so he can bring the cream up and over your shoulders, his hand big enough that his fingers brush your collarbone. He repeats his actions on the other side, making sure to bring the straps back up when he’s done, then he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“All done.”

“You’re a professional at that, Miller,” You praise, “Spend a lot of time rubbing suncream into girls backs, do you?”

“All the time.” Is his dry response as you move to lay back down.

When you turn your head, he’s already walking away.

“You can stay,” You offer, “If you’ve got nothing else to do.”

He stands still for a second before he turns over his shoulder, “Let me change and then I’ll come back.”

He’s doing this on purpose, you think, as you watch him glide under the water again, head dipping up as his arms work him down the pool where he comes to a stop, taking wet hands to slick his hair back from his forehead.

“You ever thought of having your own built?” You ask, sipping from the fresh margarita you’d made.

He shakes his head, “Thought about it a fair bit when Sarah was younger but now it would be wasted on me,” He explains, “Besides, I can always come and use yours,” You watch him bend his knees a little in the water so his chest is submerged, “Kinda hot out there, why don’t you come in a cool off.”

Joel has a point, even though it’s mid-afternoon now, the heat is still just as strong as it was when it was midday, so you drag yourself as carefully as you can manage off the lounger and plop yourself down on the side of the pool, dipping your legs in as Joel swims over. You expect him to stop, but he doesn’t, just puts his big palms on your upper thighs and spreads your legs wide, settling himself between them. You lean back, palms against the warm stone behind you, and push your sunglasses onto your head so he can see your eyes.

“Finally gonna make your move, huh?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Somethin’ like that.”

His palms are dragging up your thighs, resting on the band of your bikini bottoms, looking up at you like he’s waiting for permission, which you gladly give with a nod of your head. His fingers are hooking into the waistband and dragging down, you lift your hips to make it easier for him, and watch as he steps back in the water to drag them down your legs, leaving them forgotten on the side of the pool as he spreads your thighs wide. You’re not even think about the neighbours on the other side as you watch him, eyes focused on your bare cunt in front of him.

“Like what you see, Miller?” You ask, with a smirk, reaching your hand down your body, using two fingers to gently spread your folds in front of his face, dragging one up the length of your pussy to play with your clit.

You swear he growls at you, big hand gripping your wrist to drag your hand away from your core. He steps back between your thighs and uses the hand not gripping your wrist to push you back a little. Then his mouth is pressing hot kisses to your thighs, working up and across your tummy, back down the other side until you’re squirming and ready to beg.

You can feel the back of his knuckles drag up and down the folds of your cunt, “You gonna be wet if I touch you?” He asks, tone low.

“Why don’t you find out.”

So he does, using a single finger to dip between your folds, dragging down gently until he’s pressing it into your cunt, easy because you are in fact already dripping for him. You feel him work his finger in and out of you, before he’s adding a second and curling them up inside you at just the right angle to have your head tipping back and a moan dropping from your mouth.

“Gotta be quiet, Darlin’,” Joel speaks, “Do you want next door knowin’ what you’re up to?”

You’re about to come back with some smart retort when he leans forward and uses the tip of his tongue to flick gently against your clit, making it all the more harder to keep your moans at bay. Joel continues the light flick of his tongue against you whilst his fingers more in and out of your cunt, until he switches things up and wraps his lips around your clit, suckling it into his mouth whilst his fingers remain buried deep inside you, curling up in a ‘come hither’ motion to caress that perfect spot inside you.

Your hands fly to his hair, tangling deep in his chocolate curls, keeping his face flush to where he’s working you towards the edge.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel,” You breathe out, “Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna come.”

At your words, he doubles down, moving his fingers faster inside of you, sucking at your clit with more vigour. He pushes you over the edge easily, easier than anyone ever has before, legs shaking, skin alight, a silent scream sent forth to the sky as his mouth works you through it. Your body feels like jelly when he finally pulls away from you, but there’s enough energy left through your body that you can pull your legs from the water and get up onto your knees.

“Get out of the water, cowboy,” You murmur, bending down to press your lips to Joel’s, tasting yourself on his mouth, “I wanna fuck.”

You push yourself back from him, shuffling back to let him pull himself out of the water. His swim shorts are wet, rivulets of water dripping into pools at his feet, but all your eyes can really focus on is the outline of his cock through his wet shorts. He’s hard and from what you can tell, he’s big. It makes your mouth water, makes you want to wrap your lips around it, but it seems like he has other ideas for you. He’s dragging you up from your knees, walking you over to the low patio chairs, where he sits himself down on one and promptly drags you onto his lap, your thighs wide as they straddle him in the chair.

Your naked pussy is dragging against the wet bulge of his jeans, his hands moving your hips as you lean down again to kiss him, the endless flirting and build up over the last few weeks finally coming to a head as you let your tongue run against his, his hands lifting your hips a little so he can reach between the two of you to pull his shorts down just enough to free his cock.

You can feel the thick line of him running through your folds, wide head of his cock brushing against your clit as he moves, making you moan into his mouth just as he pulls away.

“You wanna sit on it?” He asks lowly, hands moving back to grip your bare ass, spreading you wide.

“I do.”

“Go on then, darlin’,” He speaks, “Show me what you’re made of.”

He helps raise your hips, letting you reach between the two of you to grip his cock, lining him up with your seeping entrance, sinking down just enough to let the tip of his cock notch into you. You lean your forehead against his, both damp with sweat, and revel in the fact that his mouth drops open in a sigh of pleasure just at the same time as yours does. You ease yourself down onto his cock a little more, letting the slight burn and stretch of him easing in, inch by inch, set your skin aflame.

You still once you’ve sunk down fully onto him, letting yourself get used to his length nestled inside you. You feel your cunt fluttering around him, and you know he can feel it too, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip when you start lifting yourself off him and sink back down.

“Shit, baby,” He breathes, leaning up to catch your mouth with his briefly, “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”

He makes you smile when he says things like that, it makes you bold, makes you lift up on him, almost all the way, and then sink back down, but harder and faster than before. As you move, Joel lets go of his grip on your ass and brings them to your bikini top, slipping the straps down, then pulling the material over your tits. He leans down, sucking a nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue against it until it’s a stiff peak, switching sides to give the same attention to the other.

Once he’s given enough attention to your tits, he takes your hips in his hands, guiding your movements from bouncing to grinding, his cock sitting right within the depths of you as you move backwards and forwards on him. Joel brings a hand between you, using his thumb to draw rough circles over your clit.

“I need to feel you,” He breathes against your skin, “Need to feel you come on my cock.”

“Just…” You breathe right back, “Don’t stop, keep doing that, I’m right there.”

Joel leans up, mouth hot against the skin of your neck as he starts to suck at your skin, tip of his cock brushing just perfectly against that spot inside you as the familiar feeling at your spine builds and builds until it’s crashing over you. You bury your head in his neck, damp with sweat and the remnants of pool water, letting out the quietest moan you can manage as your pussy pulls tight around his length and you feel yourself gush against him, his thumb continuing to work you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“You gotta tell me where,” He mutters urgently, “I’m close baby, where do you want me.”

“Inside,” You beg against his skin, realising it was muffled, you turn your head and speak again, “Inside me Joel, please.”

It only takes a few more deep grinds of your hips before he’s gripping your hips tight to keep you still, spilling inside you, warmth spreading through your cunt and as groans your name quietly, so as not to alert the neighbours as to what they just missed in your backyard.

He pulls you close, arms wrapping around your lower back, both of you catching your breath for a moment. You press a kiss to his chest, nuzzling your face into his warm skin as his softening cock slips from your tight heats. You can feel the trickle of his cum down your inner thigh, but make no effort to move, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you.

“Same time tomorrow?” You mumble against his skin.

“Same time tomorrow, baby.”

[grimmweepers]

— ☆ 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: alhaitham wants to cheer you up by giving you a cake but, much to his dismay, he discovers he’s not very good at baking

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: alhaitham x gn!reader, modern au, established relationship, fluff, slice of life, comfort, baking, you call him baby, he might be a lil ooc 1.2k wc. | masterlist

a/n: important!! this piece is for the @pixelcafe-network’s secret santa exchange and it is my gift to @ariiadnes <3 surprise little elf, i am your santa >:) hehe that was me on anon. i welcome anybody to enjoy it but i’m just prefacing that i wrote this with my little elf in mind so this is personalised and will include some details specific to our kay ^_^ thank you to the pixel cafe for organising something so sweet <3 happy holidays!

p.s there is an extra surprise at the end 🤭

The sudden clang of the rolling pin meeting the floor made Alhaitham pause mid-motion. He regarded the rogue tool with a glare as though it had a personal vendetta against him. If baking was a dance of trial and error, it appeared Alhaitham was hopelessly out of step.

This shouldn’t be so difficult, he thought, bending down to retrieve it with a sigh.

What had started as a bold plan to cheer you up was devolving into a textbook case of kitchen disaster. His countertops bore signs of his struggle: a battlefield of flour, sticky smears of frosting, and a timer that had long since been silenced, marking the hours he had spent here. A slightly concerning scent wafted from the oven, where a deflated Snoopy cake mocked his attempts, its ears drooping in defeat.

All his brilliance yet his intellect failed him in the kitchen. The art of baking required nuances he hadn’t yet mastered—the understanding of texture, temperature, and timing. These were variables that no theorem or formula could solve. He glanced at the instructional video on his phone, the cheerful baker’s voice grating against his fraying patience.

‘Step one: don’t overfill the pan,’ he recited in his head, lips thinning as he stared at the mess in the oven. “A bit late for that.”

His phone buzzed, pulling him from his brooding. It was a message from you:

“Done for the day! Heading home soon. Love you <3.”

Alhaitham paused, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. He could easily picture the exhaustion in your face as you typed the message. You’d been weathering the storm of clinical rotations, coursework, and sleepless nights to reach the summit of your master’s program. He’d witness you lose sleep over exams, spend weekends buried in textbooks, and wake before dawn to attend hospital shifts.

He’d also notice the fatigue in your voice, how you napped more often to catch up on rest, and the stress you tried to hide when things got overwhelming.

Even in your exhaustion, you still managed to grace him with a smile. There was something admirable about how your heart endured, how you found space for joy despite the weight you carried. He knew he couldn’t ease your responsibilities, but he could remind you that you weren't facing it all alone.

His gaze shifted to the Snoopy figurine he’d bought for inspiration, perched on the counter like a silent overseer of this culinary misadventure. No turning back now.

Alhaitham began to roll up his sleeves and pick up the piping bag.

For you, he was willing to stumble through every misstep.

Drawing Snoopy’s outline with frosting proved no easier than taming the batter. Alhaitham leaned in close, expression sharpening, and the tip of his tongue peeked out in concentration (a face no one but you might ever see from him). As he worked, his mind whispered doubts, yet his hands persisted.

Steadfast, if imperfect.

———

By the time you stepped through the front door, the scent of burnt sugar lingered in the air. The apartment, to your surprise, looked untouched—eerily pristine, even. Nothing seemed to have moved ever since you left the house this morning. 

No hint of chaos. Yet.

“Haitham~?” you called out, kicking off your shoes. “What’s that smell? Did you… light a candle or something?”

“In the kitchen,” came his reply, his voice betraying none of his current predicament.

You rounded the corner, and the first thing you noticed upon entering was the stillness. Alhaitham stood near the counter, as composed as always, except for the flour dusting his hair and a smear of frosting on his cheek.

The second thing you noticed was the cake. Or what you assumed was meant to be a cake. Snoopy, your beloved Snoopy, lay immortalised in wobbly frosting on an uneven base. His ears drooped, and his face was just crooked enough to be endearing.

“Haitham?” you asked, placing your bag down carefully. “What… What happened here? Did Snoopy get caught in a blizzard?”

Alhaitham’s neutral expression didn’t falter, though his ears turned a light shade of pink. “It’s a cake,” he deadpanned. “Not a sculpture. Artistic liberties were necessary.”

That was all it took. You doubled over, laughter spilling from your lips like a bubbling brook. “You made this? For me?”

“Yes,” he said simply, the word softened by his sincerity. “You’ve been overworking yourself. I thought you might enjoy this.”

Your laughter melted into something warmer, and you stepped closer with a glow in your chest, inspecting the cake with a fond smile. “I didn’t know you could bake.”

“I can’t,” he admitted flatly. “And I don’t plan to pursue it further. The kitchen may never recover.”

"But you look so handsome covered in frosting." You reached up, gently touching the mess on his cheek. “You’ve got a little something here.”

Not wasting another second, you pressed a kiss to the smudge, tasting a bit of sugar on your tongue. His breath caught, just barely, and you pulled back with a grin.

“There,” you said playfully. “All cleaned up.”

His lips parted slightly as if to retort, but you didn’t give him the chance. You cupped his face, your thumbs tracing circles of flour on his skin. “Did my baby work hard on this cake?”

Alhaitham blinked, caught entirely off-guard by your tone. “I wouldn’t use the term hard,” he huffed slightly, a crack in his usual demeanor under your doting affection. 

“Oh, but you did,” you teased, brushing your nose against his. “Worked so hard, just for me. My thoughtful, talented boyfriend.”

He sighed, a long exhale that felt more like surrender than irritation. “If you keep that up, you might convince me it was worth the mess.”

You beamed, leaning up to kiss him properly this time, imprinting your gratitude on his lips. “I already know it was. You’re the sweetest, you know that?”

His ears darkened further, and he turned his attention to the counter as if it had become the most fascinating object in the room. “The cake might taste otherwise.”

“Stop being modest,” you said, grabbing the knife. “Come on. Let’s taste your masterpiece.”

His hand covered yours before you could cut into it. “Be gentle with it. It’s barely holding together.”

You chuckled, nudging him. “Sounds a bit like me during finals actually.” Alhaitham was clearly amused by your comparison, lips quirking as you looked at him.

When you cut into the cake, the sound of the knife meeting its layers fills the space. You served a piece, taking a bite before offering your verdict. “Hmm.” You hummed thoughtfully, watching his expression tighten.

“Well?” he asked, the question almost reluctant.

You grinned and reached for his hand, squeezing it. “It’s perfect. Just like you.”

He raised his brow at the sentiment but you caught the way his grip mirrored your squeezing. “I think your standards are too forgiving,” he replied.

“Not at all,” you said earnestly, setting your fork down and stepping closer. “It means everything to me, Alhaitham. Thank you.”

For once, words faltered and fell away, replaced by the gentle press of his forehead against yours. At that moment, the world seemed to pause, and the chaos of frosting, cake, and his flour-coated hands faded into nothingness. In their place was something simpler, something truer—his love for you that spoke volumes without a single syllable.

bonus gift: some silly visuals 🫶

a/n: i was a little nervous about this because kay, you already write so beautifully. i truly hope this was to your liking 🥺💖 congrats again on completing your masters program. i hope your certification exam goes/went well 💖

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform.

divider: @/adornedwithlight

[dark-moonlust]

Deck the Halls Part 1

Pairing: Krampus x fem!human reader

Summary: you secretly start to decorate the house only for your grumpy husband Krampus to find you out.

Warnings: established relationship, grumpy x sunshine trope, decorating, caring and possessive hubby, fluff, cuteness.

I just had to include Krampus in my Christmas stories! This version of him is unbelievably sweet, with only a small bite (for the time being). Happy reading! Find part two on Patreοn. ✨Happy Holidays!

The attic was a maze and a death trap, but you made it through. It was where you kept all your seasonal decorations and other unnecessary items. You moved through the jumbled mess until you dragged down the four large boxes containing Christmas decorations. Sure, it was still early November 28th—a point that Krampus, your husband, would never let you forget—but he wasn't home, and you weren't going to let his grumpy, anti-Christmas attitude deter you.

You only struggled with the last box as it refused to move. "You're just a box," you growled, tugging on it fiercely. "I'm not letting you win.”

The box eventually collapsed with a shriek, and you lurched back, almost landing on your bum. Well… you’d done it at last. With a huge grin, you dragged each box downstairs and got to work. You had all the time in the world because Krampus was currently caught up in the company he worked for. He worked as a specialist for a corporate organization, investigating unethical activities such as embezzlement, fraud, or employees "breaking the rules." He was incredibly good at his job, and his frightening appearance made others think twice before doing anything dirty.

Without realizing it, time passed, and the living room gradually began to transform into a gorgeous, chaotic mass of garlands, lights, and glitter. You'd managed to wrestle a seven-foot pine tree into the corner, which had been funny given that it was higher than you and weighed around a thousand pounds. You were climbing the ladder with a garland of lights in your hands, humming "All I Want for Christmas Is You" at full gusto when a familiar growl caused you to freeze mid-note.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

You froze. Fuck indeed. 

Krampus was back.

You turned slowly, your hand still holding the lights, to see Krampus, your monstrously handsome but now angry husband standing in the doorway. He looked massive in the wide living room, standing nearly seven and a half feet tall, wearing a dark suit that screamed danger and dark beauty.

Twisted horns twisted from his temples, and dark lustrous fur protruded from his wrists and neck. His penetrating red eyes swept across your form. His jawline was sharp enough to cut, framed by a shadow of a beard. Sharp claws tipped his fingers and a long, serpentine tail flowed behind him, which was currently swinging back and forth. He didn’t wear shoes, he had hooved feet and walked to you with a predator's grace.

“Surprise! It’s decorating day,” you said, forcing a small smile.

“Get down.”

Krampus snarled, his gaze fixed on your body perched dangerously on top of a ladder. He hadn’t planned on coming home early, but something in his gut told him you were up to no good. And of course, he had been right. The sight of you balancing on that wobbly-ass ladder, stringing lights made his heart lurch. Only you did that to him. Made him so fucking worried and out of his mind.

Plus, you had no business looking so damn cute, wearing a short-ass red dress, glitter dusting your cheeks and hair.

But cute or not, you were a menace.

You've always acted like this around Christmas, but this year you started decorating so early that he didn't have time to prepare himself.

“Relax, big hubs,” you called out, a little sassy despite his furrowed brows. “I’ve got this.”

Krampus grunted. Nope. Absolutely not.

“Get down. Now.”

“Silly, I can’t do that. I haven’t finished decorating.”

"It's still November," he muttered, creeping closer. His hooves clicked on the ground, his tail swinging behind him like an angry cat. "You couldn't wait another week?"

"You wouldn't let me decorate even if I waited!" you shot back, wagging your lights at him. "So I have to do it when you're out, obviously."

"So you thought this was a good idea? Climbing on that death trap without me?"

You rolled your eyes. He was so overprotective. "I am fine. You're being dramatic."

“Come down or I'll get your sweet ass down and you don't want that."

Releasing a huff of a breath, you carefully stepped down. Krampus waited patiently at the ladder, gripping it for balance. He only let go when your feet were safely on the ground, tossing away the lights and tugging you to him as if you weighed nothing. He pulled you off the ground to make up for your height difference and you smiled, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

“You’re not climbing that damn thing again unless I’m standing right here,” he growled, his claws gently digging into your hips as he held you close.

“You’re such a worrywart,” you muttered, your fingers trailing the sharp lines of his jaw.

“That’s because you’re careless, wife.”

You pouted and made puppy eyes at him. “Oh, come on, hubby. I want to decorate. It makes me so happy! Help me out? Please? Please?”

Krampus grumbled something about you having him wrapped around your little finger and eventually agreed. He’d rather take you to bed and fuck your brains out but that would have to wait. Sadly. But he had plans to ask for a big reward for helping you, so his dick stayed good in his pants while he helped you out.

In the end, he ended up doing the majority of the decorating. He hung string after string of garlands and lights across the living room. Before he knew it, he had decorated the massive Christmas tree, the steps leading upstairs, and your bedroom. You had joyful music playing continually and were dancing and smiling sweetly at him.

Well, that made all his efforts worthwhile.

Everything sparkled with soft, golden lights, garlands hung neatly from the fireplace, and the aroma of pine and cinnamon filled the air. You stood back, hugged your husband, proud of the seasonal metamorphosis, despite his occasional growls and eye-rolls.

“You’re always so grumpy about the holidays, but here you are, helping me decorate. Thanks to you we’re almost finished! Only the driveway’s left and the garden.”

Krampus narrowed his eyes, his tail flicking. “Don’t push your luck, wife.”

"Everything looks so good," you murmured, secretly planning to decorate the yard tomorrow.

“Just good?" he rumbled, his voice low. "I just spent three hours untangling lights and garlands and all you've got to say is 'good'?“

You smirked. “Fine, it looks amazing. Totally amazing. Thanks for helping out, hubby.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something, wife?” His gaze flicked to the room briefly before lingering on you.

“Forgetting what?”

“My reward,” he murmured in your ear.

“Oh, your reward,” you said, playing cool even if your belly clenched with desire. “You mean for today? For being such a good hubby and helping me out?”

“Yes, damn it,” he said, his voice a deep, velvet growl. You were infuriating—deliberately driving him to the brink of madness even if he could smell your arousal in the air. He wanted to pin you down, kiss you and fuck your cunt until you stopped sassing him.

“You’re impossible,” you whispered, shivering as his tail curled around your legs, pinning you to him. His hands dragged up your mini red dress, you knew it had driven him mad. Just as you’d planned. Your breath hitched when he let his claws brush against your upper thighs.

“And I think you’re in need of a good fucking, little wife,” he rasped, his lips hovering over yours. “But for starters, I think I’ll have a kiss.”

Head tilting, he claimed your lips, his horns creating shadows on the walls. Your breathing caught, mouth opening and accepting his hungry tongue. Krampus was rough and demanding, thrusting his tongue with yours as if he wanted to devour you, pin you to the wall and make you forget all about the decorations.

And you wanted the same. Were just as needy for him as he was for you.

Part 2 is already up on the app plus much much more to enjoy! Things will get hot. Let me know what you think of my take on Krampus!

[mirrorball-leclerc]

track seven - i don't regret it one bit, 'cause he had it coming

series masterlist

WINTER BREAK 2023

ines_alonso, oscarpiastri, and charles_leclerc posted new stories

last night's gingerbread houses, 3 guesses which one's mine babysitting duties today 😁 watching bluey because according to the kiddos it's the show that reminds them of danielricciardo, for the record he does give off bandit energy, so i agree petite fraise is very happy at the alonso-leclerc-piastri home gotham's greatest protector is so cute, villains tremble before him

liked by lilymhe, francesca.cgomes, kellypiquet and others

ines_alonso first year hosting in the alonso-leclerc-piastri home this year in spain next year its monaco, trust me. p.s. charles is officially banned from stepping foot in our kitchen.

tagged: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, fernandoalo_oficial

view all comments

maxverstappen1 oh my god, what the hell did he do this time?

oscarpiastri the firefighters were involved this time max, that's all you need to know charles_leclerc okay, you people are being dramatic and i am not being dramatic ines_alonso THE OVEN WAS ON FIRE! THERE WERE FLAMES CHARLES! charles_leclerc you're being dramatic, there was no fire oscarpiastri the firemen laughed at you charles, there was a fire.

user1 two cats and charles leclerc? how the hell do they manage?

oscarpiastri i ask myself that same question every day charles_leclerc fuck you, i'm a delight ines_alonso except when we have to call the firemen because someone lit the oven on fire BAKING COOKIES!

user2 the matching pjs and slippers?? oh i'm in love with this trio

user3 inés, how did you convince them to get matching pjs and slippers?? i need tips on how to convince my partner

ines_alonso threaten to withhold sex, it does wonders user3 why didn't i think of that? fernandoalo_oficial i can read this... charles_leclerc what's sex? never heard that word in my life 😅 oscarpiastri what is this sex she speaks of?? fernandoalo_oficial watch your backs going into turn 1 in bahrain user4 peepaw, stop causing controversies, this is why they call you a war criminal

francesca.cgomes marry me and make me delicious treats??

ines_alonso meet me at the courthouse tomorrow?? pierregasly absolutely not! oscarpiastri now i'm thinking we should've had you and kika get fake married instead of charles and max charles_leclerc why are you always feeding into this shit? oscarpiastri why not?

user5 she has style and yet her partners always dress in the same skinny jeans and shorts

user6 oscar needs to step up his fashion style user7 charles needs to wear something that isn't those fuckass tiedye jeans user5 those jeans are a horror to humanity

alex_albon there is not a single thought behind those eyes, just like oscar

oscarpiastri stop slandering my name alex_albon tell your girlfriend to stop flirting with mine and i'll stop oscarpiastri carry on, there's no use in me telling her, she'll never stop

user5 nano living up to the chaos of fernando alonso

user6 i bet he knocked down the tree ines_alonso he did and the charles scolded him, it was quite hilarious to see

georgerussell63 why does honey always look like that?

ines_alonso like what? georgerussell63 lost charles_leclerc she gets it from her father oscarpiastri fuck you, she gets it from you georgerussell63 this was not about either one of you but i fear i may have just started a war

jensonbutton the wife is demanding to know where you got those slippers from

ines_alonso i'll send her the link in exchange for pictures of you in them! brittnybutton deal! ines_alonso pleasure doing business with you mrs.button

ximena.gomez nice holiday?

ines_alonso i'm still mad at you but they're at each other's throats ximena, help me. pierregasly at each other's throats or in each other's throats? ines_alonso blocked and reported.

user8 wait, so they did get a place in spain?

user9 it looks like they did but it could be a rental for the holiday season? user10 honestly, i would love it they got a place in spain because that would mean the s*inz mafia can't get away from them even in spain use8 they can't get away from them even in sp

user11 honestly can't tell who i'm supposed to be more jealous of, inés for having two hot boyfriends or charles and oscar for dating inés

user12 charles and oscar because they have inés. i mean who gets jealous over the men? user13 all three?? user11 i think all three is the only right choice

FEBRUARY 1ST, 2024 AKA DIVORCEGATE

FEBRUARY 7TH, 2024 AKA GASLIGHT, GATEKEEP, GIRLBOSS

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, fernandoalo_oficial and others

ines_alonso i've always looked good in navy 💙

tagged: redbullracing

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charles_leclerc words cannot describe how proud we are of you mon soleil. looking forward to racing against you next year! ❤ by ines_alonso

oscarpiastri so excited to be racing against you again sunshine. i can't believe we finally get to share the same tracks again, looking forward to it! ❤ by ines_alonso

patriciooward felicitaciones hermana! this is what you deserve and so much more, i can't wait to see what you do on the track! ❤ by ines_alonso

alex_albon INÉS JESSICA ALONSO, HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US?!

ines_alonso my middle name is not jessica alex_albon I DON'T CARE! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME, YOUR BEST FRIEND?? AND I FUCKING BET MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN KNEW! maxverstappen1 I HAVE AN NDA YOU DIMWIT?! alex_albon I DON'T CARE?! THIS IS THE SHIT WE TELL EACH OTHER!!

fernandoalo_oficial no hay suficientes palabras para describir lo orgulloso que estoy de ti. te mereces esto y todo lo bueno que hay en tu vida. [translation: there are not enough words to describe how proud i am of you. you deserve this and everything else that is good in your life] ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso papa, voy a llorar fernandoalo_oficial it's okay, i'm crying too

jensonbutton going to miss one of my favorite co-hosts, who else will help me terrorize the evil woman?? but congratulations baby alonso, glad your dream finally came true. ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso it's okay jenson, we can terrorize her post race together, i promise. and thank you, it means a lot 🥹

isahernaez felicitaciones pequeña!! te lo mereces, no dejes que nadie te diga algo diferente! [translation: congrats little one!! you deserve it, don't let anyone tell you anything different] ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso gracias isa! espero verte en una carrera pronto! [translation: thank you isa! i hope to see you at a race soon] isahernaez obvio! nadamas dime cuando y ahí estoy, tengo que apoyar a mi pilota favorita [obviously! tell when and i'll be there, i have to support my favorite driver] userxx i love the survived carlos sainz jr club ❤ by ines_alonso and isahernaez

sabrinacarpenter CONGRATULATIONS!!!

ines_alonso THANK YOU!!!

user14 wait, so who's the wag now?

oscarpiastri we're both her wags charles_leclerc we're just ken and she's everything user14 down bad, both of you

louieee BITCH?! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME?!

ines_alonso I'M SORRY BABY!! I COULDN'T TELL YOU!! louieee I'M SO PROUD OF YOU BABY!! YOU DESERVE THIS AND EVERYTHING GOOD IN LIFE!!

carlossainz55 wow, what a way to stab your own brother in the back

ines_alonso womp womp oscarpiastri womp womp charles_leclerc womp womp maxverstappen1 womp womp louieee womp womp patriciooward womp womp fernandoalo_oficial womp womp alex_albon womp womp jensonbutton womp womp logansargeant womp womp aussiegrit womp womp pierregasly womp womp sebastianvettel womp womp lewishamilton womp womp kimimatiasraikkonen womp womp user15 KIMI? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!

redbullracing looking forward to working with you in 2025! ❤ by ines_alonso

user16 SHUT THE FUCK UP?! RED BULL RACING JUST EARNED A NEW FAN!!

user17 carlos sainz jr found screaming and throwing up in a ditch somewhere

schecoperez felicitaciones baby alonso!!

ines_alonso gracias checo!

taylorswift congrats little alonso 💙 ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso I'M RACING WITH THE NUMBER 13 MOTHER!! patriciooward i'm begging you, be normal for once taylorswift that's a great number to pick 😉

user18 i bet oscar and charles are glad to have red bull in the house without seeming like traitors for going out and buying it

user19 bestie, what the fuck does that mean? user18 oscar once said he doesn't like monster but he does drink another energy drink (red bull i'm guessing) and charles just seems like he's hopped up on red bull 80% of the time. user20 those bitches love to drink red bull and you can't convince me otherwise

tkelce congrats inés and good luck next year!

ines_alonso i might be freaking out a little bit right about now but thank you! danielricciardo no inés, you must stand strong, go bills! ines_alonso i'm so sorry mr. kelce but my loyalties align with the honey badger tkelce okay? user21 nothing is better than someone like travis kelce getting involved in the world of formula 1 because these people are insane and he's not ready for their chaos.

kellypiquet congratulations, looking forward to spending time with you in the garage next year 🩷

ines_alonso thank you kelly, looking forward to terrorizing max with p 🩷 maxverstappen1 p does not terrorize me, you and alex on the other hand... alex_albon okay, so find other friends bitch. oh that's right, you can't!

pedri felicitaciones!!

ines_alonso gracias pedri!!

user22 all these people congratulating inés because it's what she deserves is making me tear up a little bit.

aussiegrit congratulations inés, there's no doubt you'll do amazing.

ines_alonso be honest, is oscar holding you at gun point? aussiegrit they're going to think i hate you ines_alonso jury's still out to be honest

lewishamilton it'll be an honor to share the track with you inés

ines_alonso thank you lewis, that means a lot coming from you

nicorosberg make sure you terrorize max for me

ines_alonso will do britney 🫡 maxverstappen1 i will wipe the floor with her nicorosberg i will destroy you on sky sports and will tell fernando exaggerating lies that you said about inés ines_alonso i just sit back and giggle at this chaos

danielricciardo make me proud baby alonso!

ines_alonso always honey badger user23 and this one goes to all the haters who were saying what about daniel? clearly he was aware of this and is fine with it. y'all are just misogynistic.

eliasowens congratulations kid, i might give you a lot of shit for stealing my kids but you deserve this, don't let lord voldemort ruin this for you

ines_alonso elias, i love your kids, jury's still out on you but thanks. eliasowens you suck sometimes inés

¡taglist!

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¡leclerc-s speaks!

𝜗𝜚 i hope all of you that celebrate christmas had a great one, this was originally supposed to go up yesterday but i forgot to post it.

𝜗𝜚 and yes, this is 100% what the poll i posted ages ago was about, so writing this part, that deals with 2024 preseason is insane to me because the 2024 season was just so chaotic and heartbreaking. i am so not ready to write out logan and daniel's departures, even writing this part knowing what i know about daniel and red bull breaks my heart. plus even though it's a fanfic i don't feel good about this plot point and me just blatantly putting yuki to the side this way. i know why he didn't get the red bull seat but i have every right to be upset about it either way and i will be for a while.

¡disclaimer! 𝜗𝜚 this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[ram-bles]

Happy Holidays!

With love,

The Tulpar crew.

#: gender neutral reader. romantic. pre-crash. fluff. kisses.

The holidays were near. The main area had garlands made of green plastic and tinsels sparsely hung around, a small water-activated paper Christmas tree growing in the middle of the dining table, and a bright red Christmas hat on Polle's ear. It wasn't much, but at least festive enough to feel some semblance of home. Though, one day, an additional piece of decor had been added by the entrance of the lounge.

[ Anya ]

You two were on break, folding and snipping away. The medical bay was filled with both your chattering, accompanied by gasps, giggling, and more as you both gossiped about stuff back on Earth— occasionally, some rumors about your co-workers too. Before you know it, you two were unfurling the last pieces of paper snowflakes.

"You think this is enough?"

"Yeah!"

With exchanged grins, both of you gathered the newly made decor and made your short trip towards the lounge, continuing the chat from beforehand. When the door slides open, you were both silenced by Daisuke pointing above your heads. In sync, you and Anya's eyes trailed from the intern, to the Captain beside him that gave you both a wave, then to the mistletoe, then to each other with a matching tint of red on both your cheeks.

Anya's hand covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers, and yours held your own cheek. It was silent for a quick moment which scared the other two, but you both started a giggling fit.

"You don't hafta do it if you don't want to!"

"Nono, it's okay. I promise. C'mere." Anya reassures you immediately.

You lean in and so does she, planting a kiss on both sides of your cheek and then a peck on the lip.

[ Curly ]

After convincing your Captain, he agrees to discreetly make a cake for a small holiday dinner. With a not-so discreet 'Yes!' from you, he chuckles and shakes his head. Whatever makes you happy.

But that means you have to help, which isn't much of a problem to you anyways. It's just shoving packets into a machine that automatically makes it, so it's not that big of a chore. Or maybe he just needed an excuse to spend time doing something together with you.

"Alright, doll. Let's go make your cake."

Beaming, you followed just beside him. He finds it endearing how quickly it is to please you.

The door opens and something taps his forehead, making him stop, and you as well, following his gaze.

"Cheeky." He exhales from his nose as he smiles. "You put this here?"

"No, but are you giving me a kiss?"

He looks around, body leaning back to check at the hallway again before he returns to you. His fingers gently held your chin, tilting your head up and closing in. Curly presses his lips against yours, once, twice, and a last one for good measure. The man couldn't wipe the grin off of his face afterwards even if he tried to.

[ Daisuke ]

GRUMBLE.

From where you were comfortably resting and spectating his gameplay, his stomach roars at you, the sound twice as loud with your ear pressed against it.

"Wanna eat?" Your hair scrunches at your temple as you faced him.

"Mm. Almost done." The sounds of hard plastic tapping grew louder and faster as he speedran through the level. A soft mechanical tune plays as he finishes it and he throws his tiny console to the side of his pillow. Grunting, he sits up as your head rolls onto his lap. Daisuke scoops his hand behind your head to help you sit up as well, both of you stretching and leaving the bed. It was the end of the day after all, you both couldn't help but be lazy with how tiring the shift was today.

Upon successful collection and opening of canned foods, you sat on the counter to watch your partner in crime punch some numbers into the machine that popped out sweetener packets. It's impressive to you, managing to convince the captain for some of it so he could find out what the code was and memorize it.

"Got it!" He raises the two pink packets with a grin and tilting his head towards the door. "Let's go?"

With a nod, you hop off the surface and made your way back to your shared sleeping quarters when you noticed an object at the top of your peripheral. You stop on your tracks, nudging his side and nodded your head since your hands were full, gesturing at the mistletoe and pointing with your mouth.

"Pucker up, babe." He grins, energy suddenly coming back to him.

"You can just kiss me whenever you wanted to. You didn't have to sneak that in."

"Didn't put it up there, chief."

"Then who?"

With a shrug, he winks at you. "Dunno. Beats me!"

[ Jimmy ]

His mood was sour the whole day and he always beats around the bush when you try to ask about it. So, you resort to the other option-- giving him space. Oh, but that only made his mood worse. He's thinking you were ignoring him now.

It's been frustrating, you didn't know what to do about it either, so you decided to ask Curly for some advice. But that still makes everything worse! Jimmy saw you talking to Curly too and it made him even more irrationally upset, somehow resorting to a conclusion that now you don't want him, so you're going for Curly.

Jimmy then devised a plan. Making sure to chat with you and Curly in order to keep you both by the dining table, long enough so that the other three would head back to their designated quarters and unfortunately for him, he needed to be a chatterbox like you guys.

But hey, it worked, right?

That's when he suddenly had to excuse himself and asked you for some help. Agreeing, you both went on your way to exit the lounge when his arms hook around your waist, planting a kiss on your lips and you let out a surprised noise. Jimmy made sure Curly was looking too.

"Jimmy, not here!"

"Hey, I'm just following tradition." He points up at the mistletoe above your head with a smug grin.

[ Swansea ]

Another sigh escapes your lips and you hear Swansea put down a screwdriver.

"Alright, what's botherin' ya this time?"

You shift from Swansea's chair, twirling it slightly as you readjust your position so that you could rest your head on your palm. "Don't you miss celebrating the holidays?"

He seems unamused but you notice his demeanor change ever so slightly. With a huff he responds. "You get used to it up here." He takes another tool and continued tinkering.

Swansea could see you deflate from his peripheral vision. There was a moment of silence when he spoke up, not looking away from his work. "There's a box beside the birthday shit. If you could fix it before I finish here then I'll help you put it up. Deal?"

Beaming, you hopped out of the chair, rushed over to him and gave him a peck on the cheek before heading out.

"Thanks, Swans."

Fortunately for you, it wasn't a hard fix anyways. One of the wires connected to the battery holder was snapped off and all it needed was a little soldering.

Safe to say you did finish before him.

Excitedly, you helped him clean up and you both headed for the lounge. This was nice, you'd proudly say it if you had to and Swansea felt the same albeit never admitting it. Idly chatting about stuff back home as you hung up the lights. Swansea seemed to be having fun talking about his kids as well, going on about their holiday shenanigans whenever he got the luxury to come back home during these seasons. Surprisingly, the lights were long enough to decorate the wall behind Polle, even blending nicely into the garlands.

"Let's call everyone to eat now?"

"Alright."

You were walking towards the door when you notice it, grabbing Swansea's wrist as he turns back. Before he scolds you, you point up at the mistletoe above the both of you.

"I'm too old for this shit."

"C'mon, Swans! Just this once, please!"

You hear another defeated sigh from him when he suddenly holds you and dips you as you kissed. When you both finish, he raises your hands, twirling you and landing another kiss onto your knuckles that got you speechless.

"Hah. Still got it."

[onlyhereforthestories]

Who Knew Gingerbread House Could Cause So Much Chaos (Mapi León x Reader)

Day 2! This one was fun to write. I hope you all enjoy

Mapi had that familiar spark of mischief in her eyes as she set a stack of gingerbread house kits on the table, her grin practically daring you to take her on. It was her idea to make gingerbread houses this afternoon, insisting it would be a fun “holiday bonding activity,” but you knew her well enough to suspect that Mapi wouldn’t settle for just a casual activity, oh no it would be a full-on competition.

“Ready to lose?” she teased, nudging you as she set up a little gingerbread “station” for herself, complete with extra icing bags, sprinkles, and even a few tiny candies she must have picked up at the store on her way home.

“Oh, you’re going down, León,” you shot back, grabbing your own supplies and carefully inspecting each piece of gingerbread. You’d seen her competitive streak on the pitch, but today, you were more than ready to take her on in the world of holiday decorating.

As soon as you began, Mapi focused with serious intensity, sketching out a blueprint in her head as she mixed icing and sorted candies. Meanwhile, you started building the basic structure of your house, stealing glances at Mapi's setup just to see what you were up against. Her design was coming together quickly, walls neatly glued with icing and held together by a precise application of gumdrops and peppermints. She’d even added little frosting icicles dripping from the roof. You couldn’t help but think classic Mapi, already extra.

“Looking a bit shaky there, huh?” she smirked, pointing to your gingerbread walls that had started to lean ever-so-slightly, causing the small panic to rise up in you.

“They’re structurally sound!” you protested, quickly reaching for more icing to reinforce the walls. Mapi just laughed, tilting her head with that infuriatingly charming look of hers, clearly enjoying the slight edge she had.

When she finally glanced up at you with a wicked glint, you saw her reach for a small handful of sprinkles. Without warning, she threw them your way, and before you knew it, you were covered in a shower of tiny, rainbow-colored dots. The icing you had managed to cover your hands with becoming littered with the coloured sugar.

“Hey!” you laughed, trying to brush the sprinkles off as you scooped up a handful of gummy drops in retaliation. “Oh, it’s on now.”

What followed could hardly be called a “baking session” anymore. It was an all-out war of sprinkles, icing, and laughter. Mapi’s competitive side gave way to sheer, unbridled holiday mischief as the two of you volleyed decorations back and forth. She darted around the table, cackling as she reached for more supplies, and you finally managed to sneak up behind her with an icing bag, adding a festive dab to the tip of her nose.

“Alright, alright, truce!” she finally declared, laughing as she wiped icing off her nose. Both of you were covered in powdered sugar, sticky icing smudges, little bits of candy, and the table was a complete disaster. But she pulled you in for a quick hug anyway, not caring at all about the mess.

Taking a step back to admire your gingerbread creations, you couldn’t help but laugh. Mapi’s house had a chaotic charm to it, much like the woman herself you were quick to think. Her house consisted of a mishmash of frosting icicles, carefully placed candy, and, surprisingly, a little sign she’d made that read “Mapi’s masterpiece.” Your house was a little lopsided but colourful, with an explosion of candy decorations that you had literally thrown at the strategically placed icing you used as glue and a crooked little chimney that you thought gave it character.

“You know what,” Mapi said, looping an arm around you from behind, “they’re both disasters…but festive disasters.” She reached down to grab her phone, snapping a selfie of the two of you, dusted in white from the powdered sugar, sticky with the remnants of icing, and grinning like kids on Christmas morning.

Once the mess was cleared up, you both decided that your creations deserved a place of honour, so Mapi led the way to the living room, where the rest of the Christmas decorations had been put up. She placed her gingerbread house on the living room table and gestured you to do the same. Once they were both down next to each other Mapi reached for your hand and pulled you onto the sofa before she pulled out her phone.

“How about we see which one the fans thinks is better?” you could see her competitive nature flash in her eyes once again.

“Okay but you can’t name who is who just do a poll with which is better 1 or 2.” You saw the roll of Mapis eyes as she snapped the photo of your designs side by side.

“You are only saying that because you know they would choose mine if they knew it was mine because they love me more than you.” She stuck out her tongue at you to add to her teasing which had you rolling your eyes this time, you literally married a child.

Mapi posted the story then headed into the kitchen to grab a couple glasses of wine for the two of you, while she did that you pulled up one of your favourite Christmas films. You got handed your glass of wine by the blonde as she sat between you and the arm of the sofa. You leaned against her, feeling perfectly at home.

You grabbed your phone and pulled up her story, pressing a vote for your gingerbread house you frowned at the results so far. Mapi ever engrossed in you and all you do was looking over your shoulder as you did this, and you knew she had seen when you could feel the slight shaking of her snickering behind you.

She wrapped her arms around you and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “I think we should make this a tradition,” she murmured. “You and me, every Christmas, getting absolutely covered in powdered sugar and sprinkles.”

You smiled, nodding. “Deal. But next year, I’m definitely winning.”

Mapi just laughed, pulling you closer, and as the night settled in around you, you couldn’t help but think that this was exactly what you’d hoped the holidays with her would feel like. A time filled with laughter, warmth, and a little bit of competitive chaos.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | December 9th-15th 2024

I cannot wait for the Christmas holidays!! Only one week of work left!!

Complete

All The Lights Are Coming On by Sharpbutsoft (BuckysButt)/ @sharpbutsoft (Post-S8A, Christmas | 1K | General): What good is having a key to your best friend’s house if you can’t use it to spread a little holiday magic?

from here on out by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (Eddie comes back from Texas | 1,5K | General): Eddie’s been back from Texas for three days, and Buck’s not done being giddy about it.

the sweetest possible lie by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (Future Fic, Pre-Buddie | 2K | General): Chris’s fifteenth birthday falls on a Tuesday, and it couldn’t be more different from last year.

i’ll be home for christmas (if only in my dreams) by wafflesofdoom/ @capseycartwright (Christmas, Eddie goes to Texas | 2K | General): It was a silly thing, Buck had started, right when Eddie first got to El Paso – we’re looking at the same sky, he’d quipped, on one of their nightly Facetime calls. Even when they were far apart from each other, they were still able to look up at the same stars, and if they just remembered that, maybe the distance between El Paso, and Los Angeles, wouldn’t feel so cavernous. That’s what Buck had promised him.

You don’t have to outrun the bear (I’ll fall over for you) by paleredheadinascifi (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): “What the hell was that?” Eddie demands, standing up from where Buck just pushed him onto his ass. “It was gonna hit your head!” “So, what? You thought you’d just volunteer yours instead?” Eddie scoffs. “Yeah,” Buck shrugs. “I have a hard head.” Or, 5 + 1 times Buck stood between Eddie and danger, much to Eddie’s befuddlement.

& such by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (85K | Teen): prompts and spec fics and codas and all the works jumbled mumbled into one place.

Chapter 21. eddie on plane (Post-S8A, 3K)

Mr. Movember by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Hockey AU, Established Buddie | 4K | Explicit): “Why are you staring at me,” Eddie asked with a laugh as they got ready for their game on November 5th. His mustache was already looking thick and sexy, unlike Buck’s which was still a little patchy and definitely too blond to look good right now. “I like the mustache,” Buck said with a shrug, trying (and failing) to sound casual about it. “Oh, you do?” Eddie stopped buttoning his shirt so he could turn around and look at Buck directly instead of in the mirror. “Y-yeah,” Buck couldn’t take his eyes off of it and here in the safety of their bedroom he was allowed to look, so why should he stop. “If you manage to keep out of the box tonight, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me and my mustache.”

slide it in, right to the top by oklahoma/ @queerdiazs (PWP, S8A | 4K | Explicit): “What’s it like?” he asks softly. Buck tips his head to the side and meets Eddie’s eyes, lazy and buzzed and pretty. “What’s what like?” Eddie swallows, face prickling red with heat, and says, “Fucking a man.” The worse taste weird on his tongue, foreign but good. Welcome, like it’s time or something. “What’s it feel like?” - After Buck shows up at Eddie's door with a six pack, Eddie's mind begins to wonder. A bottle of tequila gives him the courage to ask for something he wasn't aware he's been wanting.

‘Cause I Need Touchin’ So Primal by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Post-S8E6: Confessions | 9K | Explicit): “Hey,” Buck says warmly into the phone, tucking it between his shoulder and ear with a smile at his lips. “Fuck,” Eddie muttered harshly into the phone, his voice rough through the receiver. “Eddie?” Buck called out, frowning. He lowered his phone from his ear to check the call, and yeah, still connected, full reception. He raises it back to his ear and catches the tail end of a noise, a choked-out groan. “Are you okay?” “Buck,” Eddie panted, his breath coming out in heavy exhales. “Buck –” Grabbing his keys, Buck makes it to the loft door, jacket half on when he stops dead in his tracks, phone still pressed to the side of his head as he hears Eddie in his ear. “Yes, Buck, yes, yes, please, yes –” *** Or, Eddie accidentally, sort of, maybe has phone sex with Buck for roughly five seconds, and Buck spirals about it until Eddie finally ends up in his lap.

now i don't hate california after all by jaekyu (PWP, Getting Together, Eddie comes back from Texas | 10K | Explicit): Eddie’s been waiting for months. He can wait a little bit longer.

🔥 Somethings Said (to turn you inside out) by taegyungie (Post-S8A, PWP | 12K | Explicit): Eddie tilts his head. “Why are you being so weird, Buck?” It’s funny to Buck that Eddie has to ask; one finds out his ridiculously hot best friend is now also sleeping with men, one begins thinking about sleeping with said ridiculously hot best friend. It just makes sense, right? So it almost offends him, a little bit, that Eddie is the picture of cool right now. Has seeing Buck in such a deliberately sexual context not altered Eddie’s brain chemistry, too? Does Buck need to update his Grindr profile? or, Buck catches Eddie on Grindr and now he can't stop thinking about it.

🔥 bad luck to talk by jaekyu (FWB, Misunderstandings | 14K | Explicit): Just before Eddie tells Buck he loves him, he’s pretty sure they’ve been building up to this for months. Just after Eddie tells Buck he loves him, he realises he’s deeply misunderstood this entire situation. And Buck? Well, Buck didn’t even think they were dating. (Aftermath, and then: the road less travelled, with the benefit of hindsight.)

at this fork in the road (I want the path that leads me to you) by kabnd/ @polkadotk804 (Post-S8A, Eddie goes to Texas | 24K | Teen): It is at that moment that Eddie realizes that he has a choice. There are two roads ahead of him. Two paths. Two potential futures. One with Buck at his back, and one with Buck eight hundred miles away. Eddie knows which one he wants, but he just needs to be brave enough to ask for it. OR: In one series of events, Eddie asks Buck to come with him to Texas, in another he doesn’t…but whatever steps they take, Buck and Eddie always find their way to each other and bring Christopher home.

WIP

Finding Mr Christmas by JJK/@trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Canon Divergent, Reality TV, Christmas | 4/? | 24K | Teen): "Welcome to Finding Mr Christmas! You’re all here chasing the same dream, to star in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and over the next few weeks we’re going to be putting you through your paces to see which of you has the most star quality and that ‘it’ factor that makes you shine above the rest." 🎄🎄🎄 An AU where Buck and Eddie meet as contestants on Hallmark's Finding Mr Christmas competition (and fall for each other).

can’t fight the moonlight by coldbam/ @coldbam (Werewolf Buck, Canon Divergent | 1/2 | 10K | Explicit): “Apparently I stole his very special mug,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. “I know you guys keep saying he’s all bark, Buck’s a real sweetheart, but I'm starting to worry you all just have terrible judge of character,” Eddie half-jokes. He sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “What the hell is his problem?” “Full moon tonight,” Chimney says with a smirk, chewing his gum like he’s proud of himself for that joke. * Or, everyone works at a wolf sanctuary and Buck is a werewolf.

Snickerdoodles of Longing by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S8A, Demi Eddie | 1/2 | 14K | Mature): Eddie piles up all his baking supplies and tells him, “All yours. Whatever you want to make. I’ll get more of anything if you need it. We should have plenty of flour though. I got you five bags.” Buck’s head snaps toward him. “Five bags? You got me five bags of flour? The little two pound ones, right? Or the five pounders?” “No, the tens. Like that one.” “You bought me fifty pounds of flour?” “You’re the one who decided his coping mechanism for loneliness was snickerdoodles and sourdough. I’m just being supportive. Since you’re my wingman and I’m yours or whatever you said when you stole my tablet and my realtor call.” Buck smirks. “More like saved your call.” More like saved Eddie’s everything but who’s counting? ~ Eddie decides he needs to move to Texas and slowly unravels as he comes to terms with how he really feels and what he's losing.

there is no road by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Post-S8A, Eddie moves to Texas | 2/6 | 24K | Explicit): Years ago, almost a full decade, Shannon had asked him to move and Eddie refused because he was trying to build a life for himself again. Eddie knows if he asks Buck, he’ll get that same refusal. Worse, Buck could say yes and Eddie would be uprooting Buck from the very life he built for himself. He doesn’t ask, and Buck doesn’t offer, and they pack up Eddie Diaz’s life in Los Angeles into cardboard boxes. Or: Eddie moves to Texas. Buck buys his house. There’s a love story somewhere in here.

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 9/? | 55K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

Glamour shots : father and son

Rick and Derrick were arguing the whole way to the photography. Rick was tired of his son’s careless ways. And Derrick was constantly throwing it up to his farther that he was just jealous that he had let his life pass by without doing anything. Derrick was home for the holidays from college and still his father always wanted to control everything he did. They walked into the shop owned by the old photographer and waiting for him to tell them where to stand. The whole time arguing about trivial stuff that wouldn’t matter to anyone. “You need to settle down and stop sleeping with everyone!” His dad demanded. The old man grinned and told the two men to quiet down for a moment and smile. Pretend to not be arguing. And with a bright flash. The photo was done. The old man smiled at the two men and was really proud of his work. He had a mirror set up right beside the area where all his photos were taken. The two men began to argue not even noticing their reflections in the mirror. Rick was the first to notice when from the corner of his eye he seen jot his own reflection. But that of his son that was mimicking every movement he made. He looked back at his son and his son was standing in front of him like normal. Stupid mirror ! “Hey what gives with the trick mirror ?!” The old man just laughed. “There’s no trick here YOUNG man. You two just had some glamour shots taken. A glamour that has now made it so that you both now resemble the other to everyone you see ! “. Derrick was looking back and forth from his abs when he looked down to the mirror where he seen the wide expanse of his dad’s gut directly across from him. He rubbed his abs and his dad’s reflection mirror him by rubbing the massive hair gut that was barely covered by the white button up. “Fix this !” He yelled. The old man just laughed. “I think this will do you both some good. Walk in the others shoes for a bit and learn something.” Rick howled with laughter while his son was horror struck. Refusing to beleive what was Happening.

The old man kicked them out of the shop then. Saying he needed to prepare for his next client. Derrick walked to the car they bother arrived in and was repulsed when his reflection in the car window was that of his father. This couldn’t be happening. This had to be a trick! He looked down and seen his own body still. This had to be some horrible trick. His dad drove them back home. The whole time sneaking looks at himself in the mirror.

When they arrived at home it cemented the misfortune that had befallen them when Derricks mother asked how her son had managed to talk his father into letting him drive the car. Derricks mouth hun open in shock. His mother patted his stomach “I trust you didn’t sneak another box of donuts in while you were out ? You know you had 2 dozen this morning !” Rick cackled at this. “Now Derrick. Don’t laugh at your father. You know he struggles with the holidays and staying on his diet.” Derrick’s face flushed with anger and his “wife” asked him if his blood pressure was up again. How could this be happening ! “It’s ok dad. I’ll see if I can give you some tips!” His father flexed and the glamour showed his own. Body flexing like a douche bag college bro. “I’m going upstairs to get out of these clothes though!” And before Derrick could protest his father was already up the steps and in his room with the door shut.

————————-

Rick wasted no time stripping down and admiring his own reflection. Looking down he still see his old body. Massive gut and hair everywhere. But the mirror showed his son. And what everyone else seen as well. Slipping on some of his son’s clothes was a challenge. They were way too tight for him to fit in. The muscle shirt didn’t even cover his gut when he looked down but the mirror showed that everything fit perfect. “This is going to take some getting used to”. Instead of trying to stuff his feet in his son’s shoes he opted for some crocs. Easier to deal with. But he didn’t expect there to be so much room in them! Holding his foot up the mirror he seen a large 15 stamped on the bottom of the shoe. “Damn I didn’t realize he was part clown!”

After he was dressed again… Rick had a wicked idea and snuck out of the house

————————

Derrick made it upstairs after he was scolded for devouring the donuts that he didn’t even touch. He was so mad ! There had to be a way to get this mess fixed. He couldn’t go around with people thinking he was his father ! He was in his room putting on clothes and looked in mirror. A massive gut stuck out in front of him. Even though when he looked down he was completely covered.

He didn’t want to do this but he ended up going to his father’s closet. Picking out some clothes that swallowed him but in the reflection they fit like a glove. This was horrible ! And his feet were cramped after he stuffed them in his father’s shoes that were 2 sizes too small.

——————————-

Rick burst into the shop and seen the old photographer taking a photo of a dog. The man stood beside the old man and was complimenting him on the good work. Rick on the other hand was allergic to dogs and began to sneeze and itch. He excused himself telling them how he was allergic to dogs. The dog seemed to have lost its mind then when it walked past the mirror and seen its reflection. It was quickly collared by the other man and muzzled. The man the med the old man and struggled with the fighting dog as they left the shop. Odd … Rick thought to himself.

“Back again I see?” Rick then proceeded to ask the old man……

————————————

Rick got back to the house later that evening to find his son sitting in the living room watching tv. “Mom’s gone to the store.” He told him. So weird seeing those words come from someone that looked exactly like him. “Where have you been? We need to figure this out !” Rick handed the photo out to him. “I went to get this” Derrick jerked the photo from his father’s hands. “And on my way back I stopped to see a friend. We’ll. You’re friend. I figured that since everyone see you when they look at me that I may as well take advantage of this opportunity.” Derrick began to tremble. “What the hell does that mean!” Rick held back his excitement as he began to tell his son that as long as he was under this glamour he was going to live it up. “And that includes getting you the settle down. I stopped at Vanessa’s house on the way home and after a few rounds I think it’s safe to say that you’re going to be big brother Derrick. I may look like you but that was all me!” Derrick was red with anger. How could his father do this ! He trembled with the photo in his hands. “Hey don’t mess that up! MOM will be pissed!” Rick told his son but he did t care. Derrick looked at the photo and in a fit of rage ripped the picture in half. The same bright light from the photo shop reappeared.

When the two regained their vision from the bright light. Derrick began to scream. Tears welling up in his eyes. Because now when he looked down he didn’t see his fit body anymore. He seen his father’s. Rick looked down and finally seen his son’s muscular body. In a fit of rage Derrick had unknowingly managed to make the glamour concrete. And now whenever he looked down he would see nothing but his father’s body. His body. One that he would be stuck carrying the weight of. His stomach growled and churned as his new body’s habits began to take effect immediately. “Sounds like your really hungry DAD.” Rick, or rather Derick, walked to the table at the front door and returned with 3 dozen donuts and set them on Derrick’s now mask e stomach. “Here you go DAD. I knew that massive body would be hungry ! And don’t worry. I’ll never tell mom about any of this!” The new Rick was so mad. And so hungry he just dove right into the box of fried pastries. After all, it was going to be really hard dieting in this body that was forced on him.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Modern AU where Eddie is a tech repair person at an apple store in Chicago while he tries to make it big with his band and Steve is a spoiled rich kid who is trying to cover up that he's been using his macbook to film for his OnlyFans or something similar and he needs that shit wiped.

Eddie is as professional as he can be, but can't help but be amused at Steve being worried that he's gonna see everything.

S: seriously, just wipe everything. nothing has to be saved. don't even look through each file. just start over. E: okay sure. but you know you could just buy a new laptop. S: my dad checks my credit card statements. E: okay, so tell him you bought it for a friend or something. S: just. can you wipe it? E: yeah i can.

Eddie doesn't let him know that he already has seen everything because of course he subscribes to S.H. and often leaves him bigger tips than he can afford. He doesn't even know why Steve does it since he's apparently rich, or his dad is.

It only takes a few hours to wipe it, and Eddie's grateful he managed to help Steve instead of his coworker who is a certified Creep ™️ who absolutely would have made sure to watch as many of the videos as he could first.

He calls Steve and leaves a message for him that it's done, but doesn't hear back and Steve doesn't come by. He does the same thing again the next day, and the day after that, starting to grow concerned.

He goes so far as to check Steve's OF page, just to see if there's an update, but sees it's been shut down, like it never existed.

He finally caves, does the most unprofessional thing he's ever done, and texts Steve's number from his own phone.

This is Eddie from the apple store. Your laptop's ready. Just want you to know after 30 days we usually get rid of unclaimed items.

There's no response.

But two days later, Steve comes into the store wearing sunglasses and a hat, clearly trying to hide.

When he takes off the sunglasses to sign everything, Eddie sees a healing black eye and swollen nose.

He isn't stupid.

And he suddenly feels extremely protective over him.

E: did your dad find out? S: find out what? E: about your online job? S: how do you know? E: I wasn't gonna say anything, and I swear everything got wiped without anyone including myself seeing, but I do subscribe to you and I recognized you when you came in. S, already having a panic attack: shit no. this is bad. okay you can't say anything about this to anyone. please. E: I wouldn't, I won't. but your dad found out didn't he? he did this to you? S: *nods* E: you safe now? S: *shrugs* E: need a place to stay? S: i've been saving. that's why i did this in the first place. so i can pay rent somewhere. E: I have a second bedroom at my place that just opened up. up to you.

And of course Steve takes it because he's desperate, and doesn't have real world experience with a lot of strangers, but has a good feeling about this.

Eddie finds that Steve is a very typical rich kid; ignorant to a lot of the world's struggles, but not an asshole despite his bitchy attitude sometimes coming out, thinks money can fix everything until Eddie shows him that apologies and a cuddle on the couch can be better.

Steve is so touch starved, he doesn't even realize the way he always folds into Eddie's side when they're just relaxing and watching a movie, or how he always lets his hand brush against his side or hand when Eddie gets home from work. Eddie helps him look for a job, and they find that he loves working at a daycare even though the money isn't that great.

They fall in love so easily, neither of them actually realize it happens until Steve comes home after a very long day before the Christmas holidays, covered in paint stains from crafts with the kids, and Eddie just welcomes him home with a kiss.

[noira-l]

Just the Two of Us

chapter summary: a nice summer day, just what you needed... why is Satoru looking at you like that?

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

wc: 6,6k

warnings: fluff, slightly kinda suggestive?, blind to love, slight mentioning of sexual activity, spoilers (manga, anime, movie).

author's note: a pleasent day with satoru that is definitly not in love, you are definitly just his "partner", and he definitly don't want to kiss you ;*

s.masterlist

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 '𝐖𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐫(𝐞)𝐚𝐤𝐞'

Satoru yawned with fatigue. It was his 3rd day without sleep, during these miserable days: he had pursued the curse that kept eluding him, solved the problem of the cursed object locked in the wall of the mountain, and additionally travelled half the country to find the cursed womb that was registered, to his misfortune it arrived as it hatched and he had to fight it.

All he dreamt about now, was going to bed and get some sleep.

"Why did you stop, Ijichi?" he asked, tipping his head to glance in his direction. Satoru was now on his way home, the road was getting awfully long, it was late at night, and besides, Ijichi didn't seem to be in much of a hurry.

"We have to wait for someone," he announced in a trembling voice. He still didn't know if this was a good idea, he hadn't been given official orders from above, and yet he obeyed. Satoru furrowed his brow in astonishment.

"If anyone would like to see me, have them make an appointment with my secretary, preferably after I've slept a bit. I'm not in the mood for it" he was getting weary and it was no surprise to anyone. Maybe he could get out of this car before this person arrived?

Suddenly, he heard the boot open and immediately afterwards, someone forcefully opened the door. shit, too late.

"Hello Satoru~" you said in a cheerful voice getting into the car with your backpack. You glanced at his face. "Surprised to see me?" you asked.

You knew that this nightly sneaking out could have serious consequences, but at that moment, you totally didn't give a damn.

"Quite a lot." he replied "What do I honour this visit with? Higher-ups have sent us on missions again? How wonderful" his voice was tired, but still gravelly and bored to the point of pain. Looking at him, you are unable to tell how many days he has been without sleep.

"Well not this time." you replied "We're going on holiday." you said it with a smile, as if it wasn't you at all.

"Ee- what?" he probably couldn't have been more confused. He was too tired to process it.

"You hear right." you started to pull something out of your backpack "Ijichi, to the train station!" you said it quite loudly. Gojo didn't know if he was dreaming or already hallucinating, it had been a long time since he had seen you so happy. A packet of sweets appeared in your hand, you reached out, to hand it to him with a sly smile.

Apparently that was enough to make Satoru shut up and focus his attention on something other than complaining. He was tired enough that he didn't want to pursue the subject. And your presence made him go on autopilot and not care about anything as long as you were close and full of strength.

You knew the mission was hard for him, especially as he was silent the whole way to the station, eating the sweets you had bought him. All the way from the station to the small village where you had a rented a cottage, Satoru slept, resting his head on your shoulder. When you got off, you just had to drag him with your luggage for some time, but you managed to endure it.

He really was like a child sometimes, you stated as you opened the door and threw your luggage on the floor. It took about 20 minutes before you'd got your head around everything, in which Gojo managed to slide off the couch you'd arranged him on. Fortunately, all that was left was to put him to bed, which you had done more than once, you had experience of managing him in his almost dead-sleeping state when he returned from a mission. This activity, without you being surprised, took the least amount of time. You both found yourselves in your pyjamas, snuggled together on a nice and cool bed.

----

Satoru was slightly awake, not wanting to open his eyes, he started to adjust the pillow under his head. He tried to arrange it a few times, each time it didn't work out the way he wanted this pillow doesn't arrange like the ones I bought last year.

Then it dawned on him that he wasn't in his bed. He opened his crystal blue eyes to looked around the room. It was definitely not his bedroom. He furrowed his brow, lifting himself off the pillow completely, finally connecting the dots in his head and remembering what had happened.

You took him on holiday. That much he managed to remember.

After his morning visit in toilet, he head to the kitchen, following a pleasantly sweet smell.

There you stood, in a summer dress he had never seen before, arranging various desserts and many types of sweet bread on a large, decorated tray.

"Good morning, how did you sleep?" you sensed his presence immediately, besides you also heard him going to the bathroom.

The white-haired man looked around the kitchen and the connected dining room. Everything was clean, neat, well decorated, you could feel the atmosphere of the countryside and the remoteness from the city. This house looked like one where one could truly relax.

"Well, I finally got some sleep. This chasing of curses is such a pain." he sighed straightening his limbs after sleeping.

Just then you put the trays of baked goods on the table "I'm glad, I asked my friend to buy us fresh baked goods in the morning, I didn't think he would bring so many." you giggled clearly embarrassed. That's not what I had in mind, when I asked him for variety.

Satoru sat down on a chair, crossing his legs. ''And why are we even here? Not that I'm complaining, I'm happy when my wife visits me at work and then takes me out into unfamiliar territory when I'm practically asleep...but it's not in your style."

You sighed as you poured portions of fresh juice into your glasses. He's been calling you his wife more and more lately, and you wonder if this is getting under one of his taunts.

"I've decided we need a holiday. Both of us. Away from everything for a while." you said putting your glasses on the table.

"Megumi?" he looked concerned.

"With Shoko" you answered. Satoru noded in understanding.

"Back to the topic. It's well known if we're gone for a long time, the world will come crashing down after all, so I told the higher-ups that we're just going on a weekend of well-deserved rest." Satoru started laughing, your head turned towards him.

"You're joking. They'll probably find out now by questioning Ijichi where we are." he took one of the baked goods in his hand. As soon as he bit into it a wave of flavour spread over his tongue. Wonderful.

"Well no, I payed them a visit myself." you sat down close to him, he reached for his glass at the time "I expressed my opinions on some things and said we were going on holiday." Satoru listened intently unable to believe a bit of what he was hearing. Since when did you stop being so conciliatory?

"Of course, they didn't agree at first. Stubborn, old fools." you mumble the last part "For two days of our absence, the world won't collapse, come on." you took a cupcake yourself "Besides, I said that if they tried to stop us, their walls would have a new, more hmm.. purple colour." you bit into the baked goods and he almost choked on his juice.

Are you capable of such things? Yes, you are, he knew that. He knew you enough to also know, that you avoid such solutions and consider them a last resort. Unlike him.

"I'm sick and tired of them bossing us all the time, treating us like their property. If you wanted to, you could smash them with one finger and you wouldn't even break a sweat, they know it well, and yet, we let them get on our heads too much." you drank a glass of your juice.

Satoru was still silent, his eyes glancing once at you and then another sweet roll on the tray. You're probably right, he's been more stressed lately, the pressure is overwhelming, it's taking its toll on your relationship. It spoils the blood not only for him, but also for you, who also have to deal with them when he's not around. Although it doesn't matter now, these two days should pretty much reset him, bringing him back to his open to fun and confident self.

Damn. He is indeed too serious lately.

Fortunately, here with you, he can relax and let himself be carried away by the programme you have planned for him, because he knew you had something planned. You handled such things well, unlike him. His speciality was spontaneity and unscripted decisions.

"So what's the agenda for today, sweetie?" he said while shoving another sweet roll into himself, not wanting to pursue the uncomfortable topic any further. It was his sixth roll somehow.

"I'll explain. A friend of mine is coming over in an hour or so, he's going to give us bikes and we're going to ride around, I've got a couple of spots we might like. And tomorrow we will go to the hot springs and then I have a surprise planned for you." you replied with a wide smile pleased with the plan. Gojo was happy with it too. "I want to have fun." you smiled to yourself.

"So a bike tour, huh? Just don't complain if I leave you behind or your legs hurt, we both know I'm faster." another cupcake was in his hand. who makes such yummy food?

"I have one more thing for you, a request actually."

"Hm?" he paused devouring a sweet roll to look at you. His white hair were still messy and his crystal eyes aroused, from the amount of sugar he had consumed. There was frosting from the baked goods at the corner of his mouth, and scattered crumbs on his bare chest and belly.

Does he always have to look captivating in all conditions?

"This trip is because we both need a break from our duties. And this trip is primarily for you, Satoru.'' he looked at you as if you were a freak, and it was him that the strawberry filling fell on his stomach.

"Duh~ Of course even the strongest need a break. They think this perfection keeps itself going?" he said scooping the filling from his skin with his finger, licking the contents as soon as he put his finger around his mouth.

"Please listen." you looked at him seriously "This holiday is not because 'the strongest needs a break', no." You got up from your chair and quickly walked over to the linen bag hanging on the chair, pulling something out of it and tucking it behind your back, walking over to him again. "This trip is because Satoru needs a break." you stood next to him, placing your hand on the back of the chair behind him.

Your other hand revealed a pair of round, dark, blue tinted glasses.

You both knew what those glasses were. They had belonged to him back in his high school days, the exact pair you had once taken from him during training as a trophy for beating him in melee training. Six eyes was shocked when you knocked him to the ground. You used trickery of course, but you didn't set the rules, so the prize was yours. Now he's surprised too, at how good a condition they're in, and that you kept them at all.

You found them recently in one of the boxes you were afraid to look in, because all the stuff from your dorm was there, including Suguru's stuff. But you'd been cleaning recently and decided you should finally do something with it. That's where you noticed the pair of glasses that were lying right on top. There were some other things besides, but you didn't pay any attention to them anymore. These glasses reminded you so much of the good old days, that you just stood there for a few minutes in thought, simply holding them in your hands. They reminded you of all the beautiful moments, hardships and fun you had as a teenager, even though you spent most of your time with Suguru, Gojo also fulfilled some small role in your life back then - when he wasn't teasing you - of course.

It dawned you. That's right! Fun! You closed the cabinet, taking only that item, running to your computer to start planning everything.

"So for the duration of this trip, I'd like you to be exclusively yourself. Not 'the strongest', not 'Six Eyes', not 'the greatest sorcerer of modern era'. No. Please." he parted his lips slightly, his face expressing a lot of emotion as you put your glasses on his nose.

"Just be Satoru. That's all you need to be for me." a gentle smile dawned on your face.

You glanced at him from a little further away. "Look at you, you haven't changed a bit." you brushed his hair with your hand gently. Indeed, he looked the same as he did in his school days, only his boyish features had matured over time. Those are still the same blue eyes that made you dizzy, whenever you tried to focus and glance deeply into them. You noticed something.

Why is he blushing?

Why does his face look like that?

After a long moment, in which his eyes completely failed to leave yours, he burst out laughing. He corrected himself in his chair, at the same time putting his foot back on the floor.

In one swift movement, his hands grasped your figure, making you sit sideways on his lap. His face moved dangerously close to yours, one of his hands was on your back, the other on your exposed thigh.

What is he doing?

You were surprised at how easily he was able to seat you and with what gentleness his arms embrace you. His hand moved from your thigh to his nose, as he lowered his glasses to look at you. His eyes literally scanned yours, your bewildered face beginning to take on colour, a little more and that deeply hidden blush would come out into the world.

"Only if this miserable girl from my class joins me too, heh." his shit-eating grin made you hot. Your heartbeat drowned out your thoughts for a moment.

Wait - what did he call you?

You gave him a gentle nudge, standing up from him, pouting.

"Idiot."

His retch filled the silence completely.

----

The forest through which you passed seemed endless. Beautiful colours surrounded you all over. The perfect weather only accentuated them. You drove a little uphill the mountains, sun peeking out from behind the leaves, leaving glowing glimpses on the forest road.

Satoru was riding ahead of you, not holding the steering wheel with his hands at all. His legs holding the bike frame were enough for him. You wondered if he was even looking at the road, he had his phone in his hand, playing some kind of mobile game. Occasionally he would stop with a squeal of brakes, to take a picture of what was a nicer bit of terrain. The real revelation was, when he spotted a bird playing with a stick a few good metres away; you didn't notice it, but he had his eyes and a pretty good zoom on his camera.

However, you had been on straight road for a while, so his full attention was focused on the phone. You came up with a slightly crazy idea. You made sure that your backpack and the contents of your basket were well secured, and then you started to speed up rapidly. You passed him very quickly. When you were in his line of sight, you showed him your tongue and continued your fast ride far ahead of him.

He quickly tucked the phone away, you had caught his attention enough, that he saw your haste as a challenge.

You don't know how long it took you to race him. You could say that you quite matched his pace, overtaking him every now and then, or he was gaving you a head start, there was that option too. You didn't want to let go too easily, although you were slowly running out of strength, you were glad that your cursed energy was helping a bit with that. Sometimes he tried to disturb you, for example: trying to poke your cheek, he had long enough arms to reach easily. You did not remain indebted to him, by trying to ride close enough to him, that you had to step back slightly.

This situation was no different. You overtook him again, this time quite a bit, you turned around when you noticed that he didn't manage to overtake you. His smile was the same one you remembered from the better days of your high school. His whole look was practically the same, you're sure it's a matter of those glasses.

Was he the same? It was hard to tell. You thought for a bit and stopped looking at the road.

Quickly turning your head to notice a pretty big turn. Really close to you.

“Shi-” you had already prepared for the fact that you might fall off a cliff. You already wanted to use your technique, when suddenly something pulled you back with considerable power. Your back hit something. The white-haired man pulled you towards him with the whole bike, a couple of meters away from the turn, completely stopping you in the process.

“Did you just use your blue on me?” you asked, quite shocked.

He answered you nothing and silence, you couldn't read his smile. Without a word, he rode quickly away from you gaining a murderous pace, ringing his bike bell cheerfully in the process.

----

A shadow perfectly enveloped your figures as you sat down by a tree together to rest for a while. Satoru asked for moments to pause, wearing his old glasses, while pleasant and nostalgic, put him into a slight migraine overtime. Though he didn't want to admit it to you, you knew him well enough by now to wordlessly hand him banages from his backpack with a slight smile.

He accepted the material, wrapped them around his eyes, giving him a long sigh of relief. He was truly grateful to you for understanding his needs, giving him a moment's pause whenever he needed it. He put the cloth over his eyes, closing them and trying to fight the migraine that was slowly growing inside him. He concentrated for the moment on his own thoughts, which were mainly focused on you. Were you always so caring? No wonder Megumi came to you more often with most of his needs.

The minutes passed at a fast pace, for that, his migraine refused to pass so quickly. He was replaying some memories in his head that had just flown by. He didn't even notice when he started to fall asleep, surrounded by the hum and soothing gusts of wind and the pleasant scent of nature.

----

He was awakened by a gentle nudge from something near his leg. Satoru opened his eyes and looked quickly at the scene before him. You sat down in front of him, still with the same soothing smile. When you noticed that you had woken him up by accident, you put your hand on his leg, muttering a quiet "sorry''. He noticed you were tinkering with something, by the fact that were sitting a piece away, with your back to him, he was unable to notice what, he was too sleepy for that.

Satoru took off his banages completely, depositing them in the backpack beside him, and in one efficient movement put his glasses on his nose. His migraine had stopped finally, he felt extremely relaxed and rested.

The view was beautiful, the picturesque fields and mountains seemed endless. For moments he stared at the white clouds, absorbing his six eyes with this view, waiting for you to finish working on something. Which you did literally moments later turning to face him, draping the fruit of your labour behind your back.

"I have something for you." you said. The smile wasn't coming off your face today, usually you were much more serious, thoughtful and even sometimes sad, in contrast to him, he was never serious, thoughtful or sad. At least that's what he tried to pretend. Today was different though, today he didn't have to pretend his happiness even a little bit.

"A gift. For me? You spoil me completely today." he chuckled with his confident smile, simultaneously interested in what she had prepared for him.

"Close your eyes." without thinking, he followed your command with his smile. He listened as you moved closer to him, he even felt your touch on his leg again, when you needed a gentle support. Your hands moved closer to his face. He felt something on his head, a very gentle weight, barely perceptible.

"You can open now." So he did, which was met with the sight of you taking a picture of him.

"Wait a minute, that's what you pay for! Do you know how many people want a photo with that georgous face?" he reached out to take the phone from your hands, you responded by giving the phone behind you as much as you could. This light-hearted tug-of-war didn't last long, at least not until out of the corner of his eye he noticed the screen with the photo you'd taken earlier. He moved away in amazement.

A crown of flowers? And not just any crown, you could see the craftsmanship of its creation, the blue and white flowers matched himperfectly. He also noticed, that there was another one lying next to you, with flowers perfectly matched to you.

Without thinking much, he took it in his hands and placed it on your head, just as you had done before. Satoru tried to hide the blush that appeared on his pale cheeks, again this day. For that, you hiding your blush and sweet sigh proved to be impossible. Not when your heart was suddenly beating harder, you didn't quite understand why again. Perhaps it was the fact that Satoru slid his hands along your cheeks, gently stroking them with his thumbs, gazing at you intensely with his sparkling blue eyes. You put your phone down.

Definitely Gojo Satoru was enchanted by the sight. The sight of you flushed cheeks, slightly parted lips and beautiful eyes. You are so mesmerising. The thought crossed his mind that he wanted to keep such a sight of you just for himself.

So this is what Suguru must had seen every day.

He froze, letting go of your face. You glanced at him confused.

Ah yes, one of that thoughts.

You were Suguru Geto's girlfriend in your high school days. You were his best friend's girlfriend. Totally in love with each other, inseparable, always together. Satoru remembered it perfectly. He will never get out of his memory when you came to school together, at first as friends, you and Suguru were already inseparable. He knew that you both came from the same village. It was hard not to notice how condescending, affectionate and absolutely in love with you Suguru was. At least Gojo noticed it right away, you didn't necessarily. His best friend finally dared to confess his feelings to you one day and so you became a couple. The world's most oversweetened, loved, adorable, romatic couple. The amount of this love made Satoru want to vomit. Geto mentioned more than once that he wanted to marry you right after you graduated.

Oh, how fate can be twisted.

After the incident of star plasma vessel, even you were unable to save him. He knew that you tried but failed, he is sure that you are still blaming yourself to this day. The amount of pain the raven-haired man caused both of you was indescribable.

Still, Satoru couldn't get the thought out of his head that he was somehow betraying his best friend by being with you like this. You were Suguru's girlfriend. What is he doing here with you under such circumstances?

Well, that's right - you were.

Suguru was long gone, he knew that. You hadn't been with him for a long time. He broke your heart. He knew, he wasn't coming back. And yet, out of sentiment and out of some strange sense of duty, that one conversation had brought out of him, where the raven-haired had asked him to take care of you, as if something had happened to him. Satoru seems to have taken it too much to heart: by taking care of you for years, befriending you, marrying you and falling in love.

You were his wife now.

You went on dates with others, when you hadn't yet convinced yourselves as much. Everything around you and him screamed that you had come to terms with the situation. Although it took a long time, you had succeeded. He loved him too, in a way. You, in a slightly different way, even though he rarely admits it.

How could he think you had no feelings for him? He didn't know himself. At some point, he had already stopped deceiving himself, when he glanced at the obvious evidence you had substituted for him.

Heck! You even ended up with him for your fifth anniversary. He never felt so good in his life. He is He was asbolutely in love with you, that moment and that feeling. He could be with you like that every day. He wanted to feel vulnerable again, weak and absolutely susceptible to your touch and every feeling you evoke in him.

But he couldn't. He would have fallen impetuously into your arms long ago, for all the years you spent together, for every thing you did for him and taught him. He was so grateful to you.

But...he couldn't. Every time there come situations at which his heart begins to sing, there is also an image of you and his friend together - happy, in love.

And he felt like the total garbage of a person, when he experienced similar feelings with you.

Not because of you, but because of his sense of duty and the awkwardness of the situation. If you continue, as you are now, he will find it hard to control himself. He will end up clingy again, like on your memorable anniversary, and won't be able to stop. Really funny thoughts, considering how close to each other you really are.

Satoru moved away from you, leaning against the tree again.

"Do you miss him sometimes?" You weren't able to hide your confusion when you saw how he completely changed his tone and mood in a second. He removed the crown from his head.

He had to be sure.

"Who?" you asked, not knowing what had suddenly sprung to his mind. He just sighed, looking to the side. "I don't know what you're talking about, Satoru, I'm not sitting in the inside your head." You really hoped this wasn't going to be some kind of argument, that would ruin the good vibe you were so desperate to maintain.

"Him. I'm talking about him, (Y/N)." finally the cogs in your head came together. You sign.

"Ugh, do we really need to talk about him? I don't want to spoil the good times with you." you said laying down entirely on the blanket with a disgruntled expression, you closed your eyes. "I haven't thought about him like this in years, I want to keep the streak."

A long moment of silence passed before you spoke up "..but I've been thinking a lot about you, Satoru." The corners of your mouth lifted. He needs to calm down, he's an adult now and he blushes as often as a teenager.

You lay in silence with your eyes closed, trying to chase all unnecessary thoughts out of your head, repeating to yourself that you should focus on the here and now. You're not going to change the past, there's no point living in it.

After a while you felt movement on the blanket, you opened your eyes slowly, only to see his face above you, he was leaning with one hand over you, the other stroking your cheek. His crystal blue eyes were watching you again. He ran his thumb over, hooking the corner of your lips, making you part them. Why did you even let him do such things? You had stopped asking yourself that question for some time. It seemed somehow unnecessary to you.

"I've been thinking a lot too…" his gaze focused on your parted lips and the uneven breathing that was beginning to build in you, he moved closer.

"...and what were you thinking about?" you said it so quietly that it might as well have been a whisper. You also put your hand on his cheek. Warm, you thought, and noticed too. You looked at his lips.

He pressed his thumb against your lip making you bite down slightly. His hand moved from your face, down your neck, to your collarbone, eventually ending up as a support for him, right next to your head. He was even closer.

"I think I want to keep racing with you." His nose rubbed against yours, playfully, he began smiling goofily again.

Then he rose and stood up, as if he hadn't just given you a heart attack, shaking the remnants of grass off himself while putting on his backpack.

"So, shall we go?" his tone was the same as ever, he had already started to walk towards the bike, as you continued to lie on the blanket, blushing feeling some sort of need that had built up somewhere down.

----

The day was enjoyable.

You rode a bike, took beautiful photographs, had a picnic in a large meadow full of flowers. Just the nice calming things.

Satoru was surprisingly calm until your return home. That was odd. He still radiated a smile, but it was different. Usually he was broad, sometimes arrogant and confident, at times teasing, but this one was smaller, calmer. More affectionate, as if he was smiling half-cheekedly.

His eyes did not leave your side. Which was not new to you, he has a habit of following you around like a stray cat, crying for your attention. Now, however, it was not like that. He just stared, still smiling, responding calmly. Well, maybe not always, because when you were playing Mahjong in the bedroom, he was a bit in over his head, at certain points.

"I can't understand how you win in this game." You scratched your head while glancing at the board. The white tiles were arranged in patterns.

"And I can't understand how you can cook so well. What you prepared today was delicious." he moved the tile on the board.

It was quite late in the evening. A warm summer rain was falling outside the window, irrigating the fields of crops and plants. The sound of soft bells was barely audible from where you were. The two of you were sitting in the bedroom, opposite each other, at an undersized table, drinking tea that you had brewed quite a while ago in a small, decorative teapot. It wasn't long before you had dinner; before heading home, you managed to visit a small farmers' market near the centre of town. You bought all the ingredients and made it into something from an old recipe you got from someone you knew back in middle school.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." you smiled slightly. The image of him devouring the dish you had prepared always touched your heart in some way. Especially since Satoru, never spared a comment describing the wonderfulness of the dish you had cooked.

"When we get home, please make it again, I think Megumi will be pleased too." his gaze stopped on the piece you had just selected.

"You just did a stupid thing." his voice was quite calm. You analyse a bit.

"I still don't know how to play this game." You paused for a moment from making a move to reach for the teapot and pour yourself some tea. His hands overtook you, lifting the teapot and pouring the hot liquid directly into your porcelain. You thanked him quietly, enjoying his kind gesture.

"Mahjong is a Chinese game, it's possible you might not have known it, it's not so often played in our country." He put down the teapot to the stand, returning his gaze to your face.

"I am not surprised by its presence in this house, even the porcelain we drink from comes from China. So is the owner." You glanced at his cup to see if you should pour it for him too, but the cup was almost full.

"How did you meet him?" he raised his hand to take a sip of cooling tea. You were surprised at how gracefully he does it, as if he has a habit of manners. We're talking about the same Satoru who sometimes played with his food, along with Tsumiki.

"I exorcised the curse that tormented his brother's house not far away. As a token of gratitude for saving his life, he said I could use his summer house. So I did. Although I really resisted it at first, I didn't want him to feel indebted to me. As it turned out, this is a man who feels indebted if he doesn't return the favour."

You pulled the night dressing gown tighter over your body. His blue irises fixed on the board.

"You always take care of others." he said it as if more to himself.

"It's my duty, besides, I like doing it." You lifted your cup up. He continued to stare at the white tiles on the board.

"How did you learn to play Mahjong?" you asked him, the cup clattering against the stand. He signed.

"When I was young, I played this game with one of my teachers." Satoru turned the plate in his hands, examining it from all sides.

"What was his name? What did he teach you?" the white-haired one said nothing for a long moment.

"I don't remember his name or where he came from. My teachers changed quite quickly, no one would stay to teach me for longer. My skills developed rapidly." A white plate rose up in front of his nose, began to rotate by his blue force, and he continued, "I remember him teaching me object control. In the beginning, he showed it to me on the tiles from Majhong, which is why I learned." The tile began to fall, and he caught it in flight. You began to wonder.

"Is there a teacher you particularly remember?" you wanted to find out a bit more about. It seemed pleasant to you, personal enough to get to know him at the same time, but distant enough to be safe.

"No."

"You haven't managed to build a relationship with anyone?" you asked softly, trying to catch his gaze, which was still fixed on the piece in his hand.

"No. My needs changed quite quickly, as did the people around me." he replied dryly, his uncovered eyes expressing more emotion than tone of voice.

You knew that Satoru had been pampered from a young age, spoilt, honoured, he had been so special that everyone had done everything possible to ensure he was looked after in the best possible way.

You were at the headquarters of his clan, you experienced the assessing gaze that measured your worth equally with your strength level. Satoru had the most of it.

You knew he had had a difficult childhood, it wasn't hard to guess. What you sometimes managed to forget through his playful and confident nature, was how lonely he was from the start. You weren't surprised at how much he was affected by his best friend leaving. And now, despite this knowledge, you shouldn't be surprised that he doesn't bond with most of the people he's met. Since he had always been put on a pedestal, it was hard for him to look for commonalities in people or look at their worth, regardless of strength. You experienced this yourself from his side. After spending years with him, you are able to conclude that he has changed that a bit in himself. This does not change the fact that it came with great effort on his part. He is a diffrent man, but still alone with his strenght.

"It must have been lonely." voice betrayed your thoughts, as did the compassion that slipped from your gaze.

Satoru rose from his seat. Instinctively, you reached out to grab him. Afraid that you somehow hurt him. You said something wrong, didn't you? You didn't manage to grab his hand, you were already about to start apologising to him, but he circled the table and found himself sitting on the floor, close to you, hugging you and pressing your head against his chest.

"Satoru? What are you doing?" you lifted your gaze to find his eyes staring at you.

"You said that when you are sad, sometimes instead of saying something I should hug you." his voice was so sincere, open in a way. You smiled slightly, surprised that he didn't understand.

"That wasn't…" he pressed you tighter against him, suppressing your urge to correct what you meant. You embraced him too, putting your arms around his waist and laying your head on his shoulder. You chuckled.

It finally clicked in your head why he did what he did. You couldn't hold back a smile.

You laughed in your soul, at how often you wonder if his touch is typically friendly, caused by years spent together, or if there is something more behind it. Knowing that his touch sometimes put you in a palette of different emotions.

Constantly reminding yourself that by definition you are friends, nothing more, was becoming increasingly difficult for you. Maybe because it was becoming more and more of a lie. At least on your part, you no longer knew how to look at him as a person with whom you only shared a bed and goals. You no longer knew, how to look at him other than as your partner. Hiding it often worked out terribly for you, so you stopped. You didn't want to hold yourself back anymore.

That was your situation. You knew Satoru wasn't the best at expressing his feelings. Often in difficult situations, he falls silent, doesn't know what to do, freezes in place. So you just give him time until he comes to you on his own sometimes. And when he comes, you hold him all the time, promising not to let go.

You are happy that he came to you with this kind gesture.

Even if you think his intentions are different from yours.

"If you want a hug, just do it, anytime, 'Toru." you started stroking his hair, the way he likes it best. You felt his body relax under your touch. White curls escaped through your fingers, soft and pleasant to the touch.

"I'm not surprised you're losing, your positioning is wrong. It's no fun, when you don't even know how to play." he said in his normal voice, then with an efficient movement he planted you between his legs, facing the board. He reached with his long arm for the tea cup on the other side and placed it next to yours.

He pulled you closer to the table, put his head on your shoulder and began to teach you, showing you, explaining everything. He made his movements in game using his power and you listened bravely and attentively to what he was saying. Although it was quite difficult when sometimes he nuzzled into your neck more, tickling you and distracting you with his warm breath.

That day, despite the obstacles, you learned to play Mahjong.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission.

[secretagentsloveblogs]

god okay but have you considered that

guy and honey who are broke college roommates turned lovers who dont make great money, they've scraped together coins for cheap gas station food and $1 dvd rentals for friday nights indoors. guy brings home dinner frequently because its cheap. honey has the public transportation routes memorized. their car/s is/are old, used and has more than a few problems that they're only fixing with duct tape and a prayer. their furniture is thrifted and upcycled with a little DIY work when manageable, or its handed down to them from friends, coworkers, family, etc. guy and honey who get food stamps and sign up for the programs around the holidays that supply people and families in need with a holiday meal. guy and honey who know plenty of tips and tricks to make their clothing last. guy and honey who are friends with the people at the food banks, pantries and soup kitchens, and who regularly volunteer when they have the time. honey, who has a (very small) veggie garden that sits in their window sill (it grows onions and mint). honey who hasn't bought a new pair of tennis shoes in like 6 years. guy and honey who bought their couch on facebook marketplace for like $20 from a guy in a sketchy alleyway. they collect their plastic bottles and cans to donate at their grocery stores for a bit of extra cash. their walls are mostly bare. they have a small tv on an even smaller shelf in their living room and college dorm era fairy lights hung behind the couch. they have a 14 year old plant that was gifted to them by one of honeys coworkers they consider a 'work mom' and it's one of their most cherished valuables. they eat dinner together at their "table" which is just two tv dinner trays pushed together with salt and pepper in between the trays. and its the mostbeautiful thing to them because it is their home that they created together.

bc i think u should consider it.

[raitonsfw]

𝚓𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 | 𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚎𝚟𝚜𝚔𝚢 𝚏𝚢𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛

synopsis: Fyodor offers to take care of you on your period, as weird as that seems to you. Normally it would be the usual gestures, like milk chocolates and warm baths; but you never thought he’d be into this.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, smut, period smut, blood play/kink, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v intercourse, dirty talk, creampie, massages, petnames (my love, good girl), insecurity about having a period, fyodor's a sweetheart.

a/n: marked it as dark content because well, blood play. if its not your thing that's okay, personally was just craving fyodor in every type of way today so this idea came about. wc: 2.7k. m.list

now playing: MOON CYCLE by melanie martinez

divider credit: @benkeibear

You had curled up near the window with one of Fyodor’s blankets wrapped around you. It was cold outside, nothing new, it was winter after all. The holidays would be coming up soon and you reminded yourself to look for a present for him in the next few weeks. A mug of hot cocoa sat amongst the coffee table and you stared at it solemnly.

Fyodor hadn’t come home yet.

It’s the same routine over and over. You wait by the window, seeking solace in the snow that stuck to the branches of the trees. His footsteps were often covered over by the time you awoke in the morning, the goodbye forgotten on the tip of your tongue because he never managed to disturb your sleep. He was silent in the dawned sunrise, the light barely reaching the windows that he opened for you. The birds chirped lightly as he left without so much as a trace lingering within the bedsheets next to you.

The window was your company, in its hinges and blinds. It was your only company as you waited for him to come back from his post. You didn’t know what he did most days, it didn’t matter in your eyes. He never brought home the insolent manner he forgave in the midst of his work. He’d lay everything outside the door and walk in with a fresh aura, something you were grateful for. And then the rest of the night, he was yours.

The hot cocoa had gone cold, the marshmallows melted into the drink and you frowned at it. You forgot you had made it for yourself, too preoccupied by the starlight moving its way through the sky. It wouldn’t do much for you anymore, the comfortability of the hot drink wouldn’t make your pain go away. It was that time of the month, where everything ceased to be exciting. It felt horrible, especially without your lover’s arms massaging your aches away.

Fyodor would take care of you, to the best of his ability at least. Chocolates would be sitting by the fireplace and warm baths would be drawn for your sake when he knew you weren’t feeling all that well. Fresh blankets would be piled onto the edge of the bed as well as some of his clothes for you to wear. But what he couldn’t help you with was the insatiable wanting that overcame you, you wanted him on a silver platter. Wanted nothing but to be touched by him, in every place you could imagine. Wanted nothing but to touch him and make him beg with that lovely accent of his, dripping curses from his lips.

But you couldn’t picture Fyodor ever doing such a thing for you. Not when his hands were so clean, you knew blood would surely taint his demeanor. Maybe he would even leave you, disgusted by the simple question. You didn’t want to ask, afraid of what the future would look like without him due to a stupid fantasy. A stupid desire.

The front door opened with a quiet noise, pulling you from your muses. Your head snapped towards it and you smiled. “You’re home.”

“My love, you look cold.” Was the first thing he said when he saw you, cuddled up in the corner of the sofa. You nodded, snuggling up more into the blanket. His scent wafted off of it and it eased you as you watched him put his belongings down on the kitchen counter.

“I have the fireplace going, plus I found your blanket at the bottom of the closet.”

“Ah, so that’s where that went.” He chuckled lowly, shedding his overcoat and hanging it over one of the dining chairs. His hat came off next, resting on the same chair. “How was the day?”

“It was fine, I just read a book.” You held up the small book from your lap, flipping through the pages for emphasis. “I finished it too.”

“Was it one of the ones you found from my collection?” He asked as he moved around the living room, tidying up some of the mess you had made. He picked up the stale hot cocoa mug and pondered at it for a second. “Would you like another one?”

“No, it’s okay Fyo.” You sighed, waving your hand at him. You probably wouldn’t drink a fresh one either. The dull pain crawled against your back and you pouted a bit. “I don’t want to waste another one.”

He murmured a tiny ‘okay’, bringing it over to the kitchen counter. You continued talking about the book you read, it was one of the ones you found from his massive collection. He had a library of sorts, to say the least. Bookshelves lined the bedroom you shared with him, novels housed within the wooden crevices. You were stunned when you first saw the shelves as you moved your belongings in, forgetting how much of a bookworm he could be.

Now they comforted you as you sat alone on those chilly days, waiting for his return.

“You’re not feeling well?” Fyodor asked, a hint of concern sprinkled in his voice.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem to be.” He came up behind you, leaning over the sofa to kiss the top of your head. He placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed gently, trailing them down your back. His fingers kneaded into the depths of your shoulder blades, relieving some of the pain that sat there. “My love…”

You shivered at his touch even though it was over the blanket, reveling in the way his presence felt. He gently moved your hair away from your neck, pressing a few kisses there with a soft hum. His tongue lapped at the light hickies, some he left days prior when he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. One of your hands came up from under the blanket to rest in his hair as he sucked a few more into your skin, a soft moan leaving your mouth.

“Did you miss me?” Fyodor asked quietly and your hand ran through the soft strands of his hair, pulling at them lovingly. You captured him quickly into a hushed kiss, moving your lips gently against his. A short noise came from his mouth, like he was a bit shocked you kissed him first. He wasn’t used to you making any moves, normally you let him take the reins and decide how he wanted to move his chess pieces with you. A strategic game it was, he had to come up with new ways to keep you entertained so you wouldn’t become bored.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He muttered against your lips, a smug laugh coming from him. You pulled him closer to you, that wanton feeling hitting hard in the pit of your tummy and you whined into the kiss. You needed him, needed to watch as his eyes rolled back from searing pleasure, needed to hear him force your name out between sobs-

He broke the kiss, patting you lightly on the arm and you looked at him confused as he leaned back up. “Fyodor-?”

Your confusion fizzled away as he picked you up from over the sofa and you realized you shouldn’t have started this. You shouldn’t have gone with your instincts, shouldn't have given in. You couldn’t tell him no, he knew you wanted him from the way you just acted– how were you supposed to tell him you were on your period?

Or did he already know from how you were acting? Did he not care? You couldn’t tell. Panic set in underneath your skin and you fidgeted in his arms as he brought you to the bedroom. As he laid you down on the bed, you hesitated when the white sheets caught your eye. “W-Wait, hold on.”

“What is it, my love?” His hands snaked underneath the soft shirt you were, one of his shirts, and you let out a yelp at the cold intrusion. Fyodor rolled his hips against you slightly and you whimpered a bit as his erection rubbed against your clothed clit. You really didn’t want to stop, a small sigh had escaped him and you were going feral from it.

“Ah, your hands are cold.” You whined out, but you didn’t really care all that much. “I don’t think we should-”

“It’s okay.” Fyodor said, looking at you with concern again. You felt your heart sink at his expression as he got to his knees and off of you to give you space. “We can stop if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” You trailed off, looking towards his bookshelves. He really did have quite a collection, the series neatly cluttered together in the heart of the center shelf. You avoided his gaze on you, hoping he wouldn’t question any further. But deep down, you were praying he’d realize and still fuck you into oblivion.

Fyodor’s eyes kinda widened, seemingly understanding why you were acting this way. You knew he wouldn’t shame you, a warm bath was waiting and he’d go out to get you that milk chocolate for you, letting you eat it to your heart’s content. “Time of the month?”

You nodded and a wave of sadness rushed over you, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t help that you feared the worst. Not that he’d leave you, but that he wouldn’t indulge you. Your arousal had already settled within your body, the buzzing sensation rushing through your veins. It would be such a bother if he stopped now-

Fyodor pulled you from your thoughts again. “Please don’t cry.”

You felt him rub small circles into your hip and you couldn’t be more thankful at the intimate gesture. He pressed his face into your neck, holding you in a tight embrace and you let out a shaky breath.

“I don’t mind.” You heard him murmur into your neck, his hands trailing to your waist. “I can take care of you.”

“With a bath and chocolate?” The familiarity felt nice, though your mood became dampened. You glanced down at where his hands were, but you didn’t question it.

“No, my love.” Fyodor made his way down to your chest, planting kisses above your breasts and over them. He sighed fruitfully as he thought about what you asked, hiking your shirt up over your tummy. “Well, yes if that’s what you want waiting for you afterwards…”

You watched him lap his tongue against your chest, sucking bruises into the delicate flesh and you groaned out, head falling back against the pillows. He let out a slight laugh as you opened your legs for him a bit, letting him settle in between them. Moving downwards towards the pudge of your tummy, Fyodor pinned you to the bed by your thigh.

His fingers slipped inside the waistband of your (his) sweats and you gasped as they found your clit like second nature. He massaged it gently, taking in your choked whines. “I’ve been thinking about you all day…”

His violet eyes bored into your figure as you seethed under his touch, his forefinger dipping slightly into your cunt. He moaned to himself as he felt the wetness, the blood that pooled there, slicking up the tip of his finger. Of course he didn’t care, he just wanted you– in fact, you might’ve awakened a new kink in him.

“Maybe I’ll even taste you, savor you on my tongue…” He continued with a whine etching the end of his sentence, mocking yours as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows weakly. “You want me to-?”

You cut him off sharply, the ‘yes’ falling from your lips as his fingers slid fully in. Curling them in and out, you arched your back with his name falling from your lips. “F-Fyo-”

“Yes, my love?” He didn’t stop, sped up his movements even, looking up at you with endearing eyes. Yours stared back, albeit some uncertainty filled them. He kissed you once to calm your nerves before lowering back down towards your thighs with an assuring smile. “Don’t worry about the sheets.”

He slipped his fingers out quickly and tugged your sweats over the swell of your ass, pulling them off completely. Pad and panties forgotten, he moved them aside to the edge of the bed somewhere. Gripping both of your thighs, he hoisted them over his shoulders and fervently licked a small stripe up your cunt to test you. And when you moaned out, eyes shutting tightly and hands flying to his head, he dove right in.

He savored your metallic taste, lapping at your clit and into your cunt with a lick of his tongue. Fyodor groaned into you as you pulled his hair, your thighs twitching as he drove you crazy. He could feel your slick against his cheeks, but he didn’t mind. He welcomed the way it made you squirm, you were pliant and submissive, desperate to feel something– anything. You were completely putty in his hands and his dick throbbed in his trousers, strained against the white material.

He came up for air, his face stained and you gasped. But, again he didn’t mind, simply just wiping it off on his sleeve as he moved to pull himself out of his confines.

“Fuck, can’t wait any longer.” Fyodor breathed out as he positioned himself between you. Sinking in slowly, a low moan was drawn out of him and you nearly came right then and there. His hands came to clasp yours and his dark eyes fluttered shut as he bottomed out. He felt you tighten around him and he shook with pleasure as he thrusted into you. “Such a good girl for me…”

You whimpered in response, feeling the way he dragged within you. It felt like you were on fire, every single instance of you dreaming about this coming to the surface and melting from his touch. He pushed into you again and again, a slow rhythm, and even though it was slow, an obscene noise came from it. The wet squelching made you dizzy with excitement and Fyodor buried his head into your neck again, panting out small curses.

It felt amazing, Fyodor could barely contain his moans. His cock had stuffed you to the hilt and your blood made it so easy to fuck into you without much force. He rocked into you with tiny whimpers, trying so hard not to cum but he felt it rushing up his spine the more he plunged into you. This was the best decision he’s ever made, to take care of his lover who needed him.

You chanted out his name, your back arching up into him and he thrusted into you faster. He pinned you down again as he changed his position, leaning back and pulling your thighs close to his hips as he sat almost on his haunches. He watched his dick disappear in and out of you, the so-called red filth becoming near molten gold to him. You gripped the pillow above you for leverage as he plowed into you. You felt your orgasm nearing, expelling within your nerves and you whimpered, looking at Fyodor. He looked back at you with hooded eyes and pressed one of his hands on your tummy.

His hips faltered slightly and you watched his eyes roll back, pumping shallowly into you and painting your insides with his cum. He fucked it into you and your orgasm followed right after him, nearly shattering your senses as you clenched around him harshly.

Fyodor pulled out of you, littering kisses against your flushed cheeks as you caught your breath. He massaged your hips fondly and smiled warmly. “I’ll run the bath for you, my love.”

You don’t know what you did to get such a perfect lover; one minute you were in such a dark place and the next, he’s there to kiss your sorrows away. He went to run the bath for you and you looked at the sheets, blemished with you– you and him combined and all you could think of was how the hell you were going to get the stains out.

“Don’t worry about the sheets. I’ll take care of it, now come here and let me take care of you.”

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