Here's my contribution to the Christmas fic world. Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate, I hope it's a wonderful day. Thank you all for sticking with me this year, and showing me so much support - you have no idea how grateful I am for that. It makes me incredibly happy, so here's my present to you. I have a lot coming up fic-wise in the next year, so I hope you all continue to enjoy what I write. I enjoy doing it!
Here's some much needed M content… it's been a while since I've written anything naughty. I'm not sure what this story is all about - to be honest, I have like 7 different scenarios in mind; really, it's just an excuse for me to write LP, I do believe. It's Christmas, so I cut the angst. I'm getting all the fluffiness out before I delve into the realm of angst for my upcoming fics.
i really can't stay (but baby, it's cold outside)
i've got to go 'way (baby, it's cold outside)
the evening has been (i've been hopin' that you'd drop in)
so very nice (i'll hold your hands, they're just like ice)
Rolling onto her side, Peyton glares hard at the digital clock that lets her know Christmas Eve is mere hours from being over. She huffs and turns onto her back, counting the seconds as they tick by. She winces for a moment - Brooke's couch isn't the most comfortable surface to sleep on, but then again - had she not blatantly picked a fight with Lucas, she wouldn't be here.
Thinking of her fiancé, tears begin to pool beneath her lids.
Christmas Eve on Brooke's couch… this wasn't how she imagined this night going.
This was supposed to be their first Christmas together as an engaged couple. They'd had no specific plans, but to them, that was the best part. Between her record label and his movie things had been hectic enough. And then the best part - they'd found out all the pain Peyton had been experiencing was due to her being pregnant. The hoopla surrounding telling their loved ones was stressful enough. So, two quiet evenings at home - enjoying the holidays with just each other was all they wanted.
And then their friends stepped in.
Haley called on Christmas Eve morning, letting them no in no uncertain terms that the blonde couple were to appear at dinner that evening. Brooke was apparently at the Scott household, because she had chimed in that this was their first Christmas all together - without the heavy underlying sexual tension of Lucas and Peyton, and the pain of not being together - that the five, plus Jamie, had shared since their high school days.
It had all begun innocently enough - Lucas had suggested, to make the factor of leaving the house more tolerable, that they shower together.
Somewhere between the shower and dinner with their friends, something had gone terribly wrong.
At the time, Peyton felt she was justified in being angry - Lucas failed to understand the reason she was so upset, and she failed to understand that he couldn't see her anguish.
Lucas had tried reasoning with her, but she had lashed out at him and slammed the door after finally getting dressed - then sat in the car pouting until he joined her.
After numerous attempts to hold her hand and corner her at dinner, Peyton made sure to seat his nephew in between them. Once dinner was over, and plates had been cleared, Peyton made a beeline to Brooke's car - without a word to Lucas.
He silently knew that she wasn't going to be coming home with him tonight.
Now, hours later as Peyton cries quietly into Brooke's blankets, she realizes that her pregnancy hormones have - once again - gotten the best of her.
Only eight weeks in - and this pregnancy is already taking a toll on her.
Deciding not to mull the situation over any longer, she jumps off the couch, scribbles a quick note to Brooke, and grabs her things.
She has some making up to do.
the neighbors might faint (baby it's bad out there)
say what's in this drink (no cabs to be had out there)
i wish i knew how (your eyes are like starlight now)
to break this spell (i'll take your hat, your hair looks swell)
Lucas stares at the ceiling, counting the seconds that tick by - and with each second he loses, he hopes Peyton will walk through that doorway and crawl into bed with him.
Their first Christmas together as an engaged couple wasn't supposed to be like this. Not only engaged - but expecting their first child. They should be happy and huddled up under the covers with holiday movies playing - but she's angry with him, and he knows that with the way her hormones are acting up, he needs to give her space.
After all, it is these hormones that put them in this place.
Hearing rustling near the door, he sits up slowly… and is blown away by the sight.
"Lucas Scott, have you been naughty or nice this year?" Peyton purrs.
Swallowing slowly, he tries to keep his voice steady, but there is no denying the squeaky tone it's taken on. "Which one's going to get you out of that?"
She smiles crookedly, reaching up to tug on the strategically placed Santa hat that adorns her curls. "So, you like then?"
Not being able to conjure up a string of thoughts, he nods, silently roving his eyes over the beautiful woman in front of him. Starting at the hat, he moves down, taking in the holiday themed lingerie she's wearing. The red velvet dress is trimmed with fur, and sticks to her skin in a way that has him hard in only seconds. Her cleavage is popping out, the dress barely covering her bottom as well - and he'd have an amazing glimpse of those long stems were it not for the candy cane striped stockings covering them. Lastly, he notices the slight bulge in her stomach where their child lies - and his heart begins to thump faster.
This dress - and this woman, of course - must be a gift from God.
Walking slowly over to him, her heels clack against the floor - shaking him out of his stupor. He reaches out to her, and she falls into his arms without a word. "Again, I'll ask," she teases, "do you like?"
Lucas smirks, running his finger from her neck down in between the valley of her breasts, causing her to involuntarily shiver. "Is that a yes?"
Still not speaking, Lucas buries his hands in her curls and his face in her neck, pressing soft, barely-there kisses to the sensitive flesh. Peyton tilts her head back, giving him better access to her favorite spot to be kissed.
Pulling back from her neck, Peyton whimpers in dissatisfaction before he places his hands on either side of her face, looking directly into her eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispers, sincerity evident in his tone.
Tears pool in her eyes again, so she kisses him fiercely. Her teeth nip at his bottom lip, before kissing it slowly. "Don't be sorry - it's my fault."
Lucas shakes his head and walks them back to the bed. He doesn't care who started the argument or why there was even one in the first place - all he knows is that the woman of his dreams is decked out in full Mrs. Claus lingerie and biting her lip in that sexy way she just knows drives him crazy.
And suddenly it just doesn't matter anymore.
Her hands fly to the waist of his boxers and his trace up her legs, needing to get those stockings down - he has to feel her legs. He can't make love to her without having his hands planted on her thighs or calves - any part of the never ending legs he adores so much.
Once they're off he sighs in satisfaction, taking in the tanned skin. He moves to lower the straps of the garment, but her panting stops him. "No, Luke - there's no time, I need you… now."
It makes him pause in wonderment, the effect they have on each other. Their hands have barely had contact with their bodies, and already they're both wanting to make love.
And he knows that if Peyton Sawyer wants anything from him - no is never his answer.
He reaches under to remove her panties, as her hand is slowly working him - she's repeating a well practiced rhythm. He knows that if he lets her go, this will be all over, but her warm hands feel so fucking good wrapped around him, that he finds it hard to pull her away. But he does. Eventually.
It doesn't help that once he's reached his destination, there are no panties to remove. That pushes him near the edge and he gulps. "Peyt," he husks, "are you trying to kill me here?"
Peyton lightly pushes on his chest, forcing him to lay down. She lays her legs on either side of him, before sliding herself down, encasing him in her wet warmth.
She leans down to kiss his mouth lightly. "Nope," she whispers.
As she begins to rock her hips back and forth, his hands grip them, slowly guiding her movements - drawing out the intense pleasure flowing through both of them.
Lucas springs up, but keeps her in his arms, his mouth moving down to kiss her breasts, and she throws her head back in utter ecstasy, as the rock of their lower halves intensify. Her hands are permanently latched onto his back, the nails sure to leave violent red marks in the morning. Wanting to hear her scream, Lucas guides his hand down her body, over the velvet before lifting up the fur to dip into her wetness - pinching the nerve endings he know will do the trick.
Lately, Peyton hasn't taken much coaxing to reach an orgasm - and she rarely stops at one.
So as he sends her on her first high of the night, she's barely come down from it when he's sending her right back up, and this time he's flying over the edge himself.
i ought to say "no, no, no sir" (mind if i move in closer)
at least i'm gonna say that i tried (what's the sense in hurtin' my pride)
i really can't stay (oh baby don't hold out)
baby it's cold outside
The lovers are silent for moments on end - neither needing to feel the space with words, knowing that in this moment, they've reached the ultimate level of contentment. Her fingers draw circles around his chest, while his hands rub up and down the chilled flesh of her arms.
Lucas knows that maybe he shouldn't say what he's about to say, but he's hoping Normal Peyton - the one that he's always been able to joke with - is back, and Hormonal Peyton is on the backburner for now. "So… I see you found something that fit."
Luckily, a loud snort escapes her nose, and she's dissolving into a fit of giggles. "I've had this sitting around for a few days now, I wanted us to have an amazing night."
He chuckles throatily and leans into her neck, shivers attacking her spine from the motion. "Mm, well babe, you did good. This is amazing. Needs to be brought out every year, in fact." They both laugh, but she nods in agreement. "I mean, why didn't you just wear this to dinner?"
Swatting at his chest, she blushes. "Yes, because I want our closest friends - and your six year old nephew - to see me in slutty lingerie. Thanks, but no."
He pulls her even closer into his embrace, and rests his head against hers - sighing at the feeling. It's undoubtedly the happiest place for him to be. In bed with his girl at his side. Nothing's ever felt the good - or happy. He often wonders if she truly understands how much he loves her.
Feeling her shake in his arms, he pulls her back, alarmed. "Peyt, what's wrong?"
Tears are pouring from her eyes, and she's near sobbing. "I'm so… sorry, Luke. I'm sorry we fought and that I was a complete bitch to you all day."
Trying not to laugh again, he shrugs. "You're pregnant - I kind of expected this to happen. And you're not a bitch, don't ever talk about the mother of my child like that," he playfully scolds.
"I yelled at you because none of my clothes fit me. I'm a horrible wench," she wails.
Lucas wipes her tears away with his fingertips and kisses her nose sweetly. "Come on babe, stop crying - I promise you it's okay. I was never mad. Just concerned. All that matters is that you made it back before Christmas."
She nods and sniffles, glancing over to the clock, just as it turns from 11:59 to 12:00. "Just in time," she motions.
He looks at the clock as well, before turning back to her. He places one hand on her stomach, and the other behind her head, whispering, "Merry Christmas, baby," before pulling her in for a slow, deep kiss.
When they part, her eyes are sparkling, and she places her hands on top of his. "Merry Christmas, Luke."
you've really been grand (i thrill when you touch my hand)
but don't you see? (how can you do this thing to me?)
there's bound to be talk tomorrow (think of my lifelong sorrow)
at least there will be plenty implied (if you got pneumonia and died)
i really can't stay (get over that old out)
baby it's cold
baby it's cold outside
Silly Christmas fluff. Let me know what you think!