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buckets-and-trees · 4 months

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What You Want

Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: lawyer!Bucky x curvy!female assistant reader Word Count: 2.7k Summary: Your boss, powerful lawyer Bucky Barnes, insisted he needed his indispensable assistant to accompany him on his trip to Norway. He also promised he would have you home in time for Christmas, but the weather decided to strike its wrath and decimate international travel, leaving you stranded for a few more days.

Content Warnings: modern AU, slight power dynamic, periphery/secular reference to the Christmas holiday, vaginal fingering, use of "plum" as a term of endearment

Logistical Notes: Written for @sstan-hoe Vee's Holly Jolly Challenge - I was given a selection of prompts including "That noise...keep making it," reindeer, and lawyer/assistant power dynamics. Also my December entry for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo using the FLASHBACKS prompt. Divider by @saradika.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You heard the door open and close behind you and then familiar footsteps approaching, but you didn’t turn to look, instead keeping your eyes on the beauty of the frozen wilderness on display before you.

“Peace offering?” Bucky spoke as he stepped up beside you at the rail of the balcony, holding one of two steaming mugs in his hands toward you.

You sighed but gave him a small smile and took the mug. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re a very powerful man, Bucky, but I’m relatively sure you don’t control the weather.”

“Not yet, but I’m trying to pull some strings,” he said with a smirk, and you smiled.

“It’s not your fault we can’t get a flight back to the States when a blizzard has taken out half the Eastern Seaboard.”

It was unlikely that even with all of James Buchanan Barnes’ considerable lawyering power and money that he would be able to get you back home before Christmas. The main international airports in New England would have to live through the record raging blizzard, dig out, and then there would be hundreds of thousands of passengers to accommodate in and out of the country. Reasonably your guess was that you wouldn’t be returning until as early as the day after Christmas at the earliest.

“I should still apologize though. I said I would have you home for Christmas.”

You took a sip of the hot coffee. “You should apologize, but you’re not.”

He smiled. “No, I’m not.”

He turned and looked out over the forest and frozen tundra with you, the snow sparkling by the moonlight. This side of the resort hotel Bucky had booked the two of you into looked out over the wilderness.

“How long are you going to stay out here?”

“Until I see a reindeer. You brought me to Norway in December. I want to see a wild reindeer.”

“Fair enough.”

After a few more minutes, Bucky spoke again. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat, though? They said our accommodations should be ready after dinner.”

It had been a bit of a feat to find any place this close to Christmas that wasn’t closed or completely booked, but Bucky had managed to find this place that although they said they didn’t have a place immediately available, they had late check outs that just needed to be cleaned and refreshed for new guests.

“It’s a very fine restaurant.”

“Alright, let’s go eat.”

“If that will be all for the evening, I’ll be happy to escort you to your suite, Mr. Barnes,” the maître d’ said. He had been attentive all evening, but being with Bucky on this business trip you had quickly learned only the most excellent service was a common thing for him.

“Yes, thank you, I think we’re finished,” Bucky replied, looking to you, and you nodded. You both scooted your chairs back from the table and then followed the man out of the restaurant, through the hotel lobby, past the bar, past the observatory lounge and balcony you’d visited earlier, and to a pair of elevators.

Dinner had been quiet, but not an uneasy quiet by any means for the two of you. Bucky was an intimidating man, power emanating from him very naturally, but after the first few weeks as his assistant, you had gotten over your nerves. After sitting with him through many lunches, plenty of meetings, taking notes from him on cases and projects, and a fair few late nights, you had grown comfortable around him, learned that he could be easy to talk to, but didn’t strive to fill a silence for conversation’s sake, something you appreciated.

The hotel Bucky had found was an upscale, moderately sized wilderness and ski lodge. When you arrived on the fifth and top floor, there was a cozy hallway that only boasted three doors, and you were led to the one at the very end, where the man unlocked the door, stepped in to hold it open, and then handed the key to Bucky.

“If you should need anything at all, simply pick up the phone and our staff will assist you,” he said. “Have a good evening, and we hope you enjoy your stay, even though we know it was unexpected for the holiday.”

“Thank you, dinner was fantastic, and the place looks wonderful, you’ve been great, Lucas. Have a good night,” Bucky said, and pressed what you were sure was a generous tip into the man’s hand.

All your and Bucky’s things had been left neatly to one side of the entry of the suite. A quick look around revealed that there were two rooms off either side of the spacious sitting area as well as a small kitchen and bar, and on the far side full floor to ceiling windows and a balcony. You had hoped for two rooms like you’d had at the previous hotel, but two rooms in a suite would be perfectly fine, especially since the stunning view out of the sitting room’s windows wasn’t the only beauty in the place. There was a fireplace with a gorgeous mantle with a roaring fire already ablaze and a stunning Christmas tree with gorgeous trimmings in the Scandinavian style.

“It’ll do, yes?” Bucky asked, watching you take in the beauty of the tree.

You smiled warmly at him, then looked back at the tree. “Yes, it’ll do just fine.” The sitting room was spacious and rivaled your cozy studio apartment back home for size. You stepped further into the suite. “Do you want to take a look at the rooms and pick which one you want?” you asked. All the trip was on the company’s expense account, and as his assistant, although you suspected he might be a gentleman and offer you the better room, you would defer to Bucky to actually pick.

“We’ll share whichever one is better,” he said with a shrug.

You scoffed. “No, there are two rooms in this gorgeous suite, I’m sure they’re both fantastic, I don’t mind taking the one you don’t want. Might even sleep on the couch so I can stay by the tree and look out those windows all night.”

He chuckled, low, and suddenly at your back. “You misunderstand me, plum,” he said, placing his hands on the curve of your hips and pressing his chest up against your back. He leaned in to speak the next words directly in your ear. “I’m having you in my bed tonight.”

Your breath caught.

You couldn’t move, and a soft, “Mr. Barnes,” was all you could say.

“Aw, none of that, plum, you haven’t called me Mr. Barnes for months, and I won’t it happening again now.”

“We shouldn’t,” you tried to protest, but even as you said the words, a traitorous part of you didn’t put much feeling behind them.

“Shouldn’t we? You’re smart enough to know I didn’t really need to bring you on this trip with me, but I wanted to. Didn’t want to go that long without seeing you, wanted you by my side in a charming Nordic country during the height of its festive season, and you said yes, like the perfect assistant that you are. I told myself that was enough, didn’t go knocking on your door any of the nights we were at our first hotel, kept it professional despite wanting more and more of you every day we spent together away from the office.”

His hand moved from your hips to circle around your front, his left moving over your soft stomach over to the other side to rest over the front of your right hip, and his right further up your torso, his hand brushing the underside of your breast and resting firmly just below it, bringing you flush against him.

“Fate won’t let me get you home for Christmas, so why deny what it’s dangling right in front of me now?”

He pressed his lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, and a small whimper escaped your throat.

“Let me have what I want,” he murmured, leaving a slow trail of more kisses down your neck. “I know you want it, too.”

“I – no, I don’t – I”

It was impossible to put up the words of protest when he licked the shell of your ear. You shivered in his arms instead.

“Let me ruin my perfect girl,” he pressed, slipping the hand that was at your hip into the waistband of your trousers. His hand stopped when his fingers met the lace edge of your panties. He turned you around abruptly and kissed you full on the mouth, cupping your face with both hands so you had no choice but to take the heat of his kiss, and the flame he’d been sparking started to catch more dangerously in your core.

He had somehow maneuvered you further into the sitting room so that when he suddenly broke off the kiss, you were in the middle of the space, the warm glow of the fire and the tree lights casting over you both.

Bucky stepped back, and you frowned in confusion, still breathless. He trailed a finger up the column of your throat to the tip of your chin, his blue eyes dark and hungry. “Undress,” he said.

He moved to the couch and sat, his eyes returning to you as he settled in.

“Undress,” he repeated.

That commanding tone struck another spark right to your cunt. You knew you were already growing wet for him.

You toed off your shoes one at a time, then took off your socks – those requiring you to move a little less elegantly than you wanted with his searing gaze on you. Standing aright again, your hands moved to the button of your trousers, fingers trembling since you had never stripped in front of anyone before. You weren’t a virgin, but although the partners you had been with before had been eager to have you naked, none had ever asked you to undress for them like this, like they wanted to see your full figure, not just fuck it.

Bucky spoke your name in a way that had you pause and look up at him again.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You know I pride myself on my instincts. I think we both want this, but there are two rooms here.”

You bit your lip.

He was offering the veiled choice if you wanted it.

Your mind raced with flashbacks of conversations and thoughts you’d had over the past few weeks clear back to the first few meetings with your boss.

Insisting to your mother that your boss did absolutely need you to fly with him to Norway to assist him with meetings with an international client the week before Christmas.

Your best friend insisting on a shopping trip for your fancy work trip to a foreign country “because if your hot boss isn’t going to seduce you, have a foreign fling!”

Your heart stuttering the first time your eyes met your boss’s deep blues the day you interviewed with him.

The same eyes that were riveted on you now.

On you.

You unbuttoned your trousers and lowered the zipper. You glanced down as the fell to the floor, then stepped carefully out of them. When you looked back up, you saw even more hunger in Bucky’s eyes, and it warmed your blood. Looking right into those eyes, you reached for the hem of your sweater and lifted it up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor as well.

“Mmm,” he hummed in approval. “C’m’ere,” he beckoned, sitting back on the couch again, but beckoning you into his lap as he watched your every move.

You concentrated on his eyes and on keeping your breathing steady. When you were close enough for him to reach for you, he held out his hand. You took it and let him pull you gently down to straddle your legs on either side of his.

“My perfect plum,” he murmured. His hands moved up your thighs, over your hips, up your waist, and back down.

“Your plum?” you asked, watching his face as his eyes roved over you up close.

“My perfect plum - I want to savor every delicious curve of your body,” he said before dropping a kiss to the top of your breast. Your hands went to his shoulders to steady yourself. “When I felt that lace of your underwear, I thought maybe you did want this, too.” His lips moved to the other breast where he kissed the exposed skin, then traced his tongue along the edge of the lacy cup, causing you to shiver. “There isn’t any other reason you would be wearing such pretty lingerie, is there?”

“No,” you admitted immediately.

“Just for me,” he said as he moved his hand to your mound and immediately slipped a finger beneath the fabric to stroke along your folds, making you gasp. “Good girl, already wet for me.”

You keened as his finger traced your warm hole but didn’t go in, instead taking the slick there and pressing it up over your folds. He continued tracing them up and down before moving up to find your clit, knowing he found it the second your head dropped back, and you let a, “Yes,” tumble from your lips. “More.”

His other hand skimmed up from your hip, up your side, to your neck, and then angled your head back down for another kiss. Your lips met his eagerly, mouths parting, you licked into his mouth, and he growled his approval. He moved his finger from your clit, but your whine was brief as he slipped that finger along with a second straight into your cunt, stroking in and out, over and over again. You canted your hips into his hand, and you felt the rumble of a chuckle in his chest, but he didn’t stop kissing you. Instead, he curled his fingers forward with each stroke, quickly finding the spongy spot that made you tremble and moan.

Breathless, it was you who had to break off the kiss first, but you pressed your forehead to his. “Feel good, plum?” he asked, and you registered that he sounded as earnest as you felt, his voice deep and a little breathless, too.

“Yes, sir,” you gasped.

“Mmm, sir? I like that,” he said, and rewarded you by moving his thumb to start circling your clit.

You moaned openly.

“That noise…keep making it.”

He sped up his motions just slightly, seeming to feel how your body was tensing up, building toward a powerful release.

“Ready to cum for me like a good girl?”

“Yes, sir!” your answer was more like a plea. “So close.”

Keeping up the rhythm on your clit, he applied more pressure with each thrust of his fingers up inside of you, hitting that sensitive spot on the front of your walls, and with just a few more strokes, the wave crested and rolled over you.

“That’s it, plum,” he cooed as you trembled above him, his other hand coming to smooth unhurriedly up and down your back as his fingers continued to stroke your channel, slowly extending your orgasm. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

He removed his fingers and brought them up to your mouth. You sucked them in, laving your tongue over them. “Can’t wait to see you come for me again,” he said. And too impatient for you to lick his fingers clean, he withdrew them and crashed his lips back into yours.

“Earlier tonight when I said I should apologize, and you called me right out for not doing any such thing?”

“Yes?”

“This is why I didn’t apologize. I was in no way sorry that I had more time with you, and I’m going to use it to take you apart and put you back together all night.”

You would think about all of this later. But he emptied your head of anything but him and the pleasure between you, making more than good on his promise to take you apart until you were completely spent and ruined in his bed.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x curvy reader #babb2023 #vee's holly jolly challenge #aspen wrote somethinig

1K notes · View notes

beiasluv · 6 months

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tis the dilf season | j. button (22)

a/n: ignore the timeline cuz it’s a mess (I actually tried to do the maths) enjoyy 🤭

yourinsta

liked by fernondoalo_official, aussiegrit and 482,167 others

yourinsta and the summer break begins! thank you everybody for this amazing season, it has been an honor to work as your engineer this season and looking forward to the next!

view all 254,156 comments

jensonbutton ❤️

liked by yourinsta

aussiegrit buy jenson some sunscreen, please.

yourinsta 😭 on it

lewishamilton 👊 thank you

yourinsta back to you 🫶

username yn try not to post your man challenge, she failed.

username PLEASE

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username PLEASEEE I need yn and jenson radio for life 😩

username this post was like 6 years ago????

username HE WAS 37!!! SHE WAS JUST BARELY in her 20s

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username Maybe because he WAS planning on it. creeps me out ngl

username shut up. I love my dilf and gen z duo

yourinsta

liked by lewishamilton, jensonbutton and 386,627 others

yourinsta wdym you guys won’t play mermaids with us??? 👎

view all 96,510 comments

jensonbutton I deeply apologise. dinner, my treat.

yourinsta deal 😊🫶

username OMFG??? IT WAS NOT EVEN A QUESTION

username BRO who doesn’t play mermaids?

username duh, it’s childish asf

username blocked. bye.

username YN IS ON A HOLIDAY WITH JENSON AND MARK???

username she’s just using them to get her mclaren engineering position 🤷‍♀️

username their age gap is questionable

username EXCUSE ME?? have you seen the last 5 years of F1 championships? yeah, that’s miss girly there. stay mad, boohoo

username are we, as a SOCIETY, expecting a dilf to play mermaids?

username Yes. Stay mad

username OBVIOUSLY

yourinsta’s story

jensonbutton: what is a 0.5? also, garage in 10 minutes, darling.

: it’s a secret 🤭

: okieee

jensonbutton: quickly then ♥️

f1gossips

liked by username, username and 37,101 others

f1gossips yn ln was seen entering the paddock and completing her track walk for the mclaren team grand prix this weekend. jenson button not spotted near or anywhere today.

admin, reported.

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username miss gurl came straight back from summer break to work, grind that grind gurl.

username she’s just doing her job?

username you hatin for no reason??

username THE ENGINEER IS BACK IN DA HOUSE

username she’s everything and he’s just a ken 🤷‍♀️

username I’ll take jenson any day if she doesn’t want him 😩

username GIRL IKRR

username PLEASE TELL ME MY PARENTS ARE STILL TOGETHER

username somebody TELL ME why jenson is wearing a fireproof in yn’s story???

username exactly!! I thought he is still doing sky news

username GURL PLEASE TELL ME JENSON IS COMING BACK THIS SUNDAY

username I manifestt 😩 it’s wednesday, we can still do ittt

username NOT WITH THE OLD FIREPROOF AND EVERYTHING IN HER STORY 🗣🗣

jensonbutton

liked by mclaren, yourinsta and 696,517 others

jensonbutton it’s great to be back on the grid. (and to be working with my favourite engineer again. ♥️) yourinsta

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yourinsta thank you, mr. button ✌️

username mrs. button when??

liked by jensonbutton

username SHUT THE FUCK UP. HE LIKED IT

username jenson returning as a driver WAS NOT ON MY 2023 BINGO CARD

username IKRRR (I manifested it, yw guys)

yourinsta

liked by aussiegrit, jensonbutton and 503,871 others

yourinsta happy birthday to my (second) favorite news reporter and some driver I guess 🤭 aussiegrit !!

thanks for taking care of my brit! have fun in the retirement gang, hope to see you soon!

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aussiegrit cheers! 😁

yourinsta 🫶

username she can’t even post a happy birthday post without jenson 🙄

username ikr? give some respect

username tell me you’re new without tell me you’re new

username Exactlyyy. it has been the longest running joke that mark’s the third wheel. why are y’all getting mad for nothing 🤷‍♀️

jensonbutton

liked by yourinsta, sebastianvettel and 472,106 others

jensonbutton pretty sure it was her idea.. (love you ♥️)

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yourinsta it was mark’s 😔✊

jensonbutton you’re kidding, darling

yourinsta 🤭 maybe

username couples do couples poseee

username she’s definitely pr training him for lifeee

username if they break up idk what to do

username I’ll take him any day GURLL 🤭

username I need someone to call me darling like Jenson does

yourinsta’s story

yourinsta

liked by jensonbutton, danielricciardo and 452,627 others

yourinsta race dump, and you’re welcome for the surprise guest this weekend 😚

view all 216,016 comments

username EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU MISS GURL

okay…I started simping for him because of a tiktok edit 🤷‍♀️

like, reblog, COMMENTT if you liked it 😚 if not, then why not?

today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 11 months

Note

BORIS JOHNSON RESIGNS AS MP. Thoughts? The people howl for a new update to the Big Dog the Clown saga.

Yes this was not on my personal bingo card; my most recent Big Dog event was that a friend of mine works for air traffic control and recently had to delay BoJo's holiday flight by four hours, and on being told that this particular plane had to be prioritised for a runway slot because it contained an Important Clown promptly pushed it to the bottom of the priority list. Lol. And then all this! What larks.

Okay not a lot of detail yet still but LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT THE EVENTS OF 9TH JUNE, 2023 and you know what? It's been a while. Let's do it properly.

7.15am

Another day dawns in the reign of evil Grand Vizier-turned-PM Rishi Sunak. He's a very boring flavour of evil, tbh. Say what you will about Johnson, but at least there was spectacle and showmanship to his clownshow. Something for the children to boo and hiss. An animate ham in a villain's wig, something to really enjoy as you sit back, relax, and savour a tall, cool glass of schadenfreude.

By contrast Rishi just gets sycophants - who are no less ridiculous, but far more grey and boring - who pretend he's a tech bro because "he understands AI" and they think that will make him a visionary and a man of the future and maybe some sort of Elon Musk figure, because that's obviously a smashing template to be copied in a leader of a country.

This briefing was presumably drafted using ChatGPT.

Anyway, this is what we thought the day would be: another dreary overcast washout, livened up by Downing Street's latest attempt at making Sunak seem like a good idea to stave off the hulking spectre of Labour's inevitable GE win next year. How trite. How tedious. How mediocre.

What a shame it would be if... something were to liven it up.

8.39 am

Fun fact!

When a PM's term ends, as their last act in office, they get to present an Honours List. This means they write a list of all the people they reckon have been Jolly Good Sorts who have done Good Clowning and Supported The Community, and nominate those people for honours. Honours here can be anything from an MBE/OBE etc, to a Damehood/Knighthood, all the way up to entering the Peerage i.e. becoming a Lord. Traditionally, people have been fairly reasonable with these lists. Apart from anything else, the outgoing PM can only write the list - the new Prime Minister has to sign off on it, and it's usually the case, of course, that PMs are deposed by the opposition party.

Why am I mentioning this? Well: Boris, you see, has now presented his list to Sunak to validate. You may be unsurprised to learn that it contains quite a lot of clowns.

Another fun fact!

If a sitting MP is given a Peerage, they cannot continue to be an MP. MPs are elected. Lords are not. So an MP offered a lordship right now would have to stand down if they accepted, triggering a by-election in their seat that... well. That anyone could win, couldn't they? Ordinarily. Except Labour's shadow is growing, isn't it? I don't suppose Sunak would be all that happy about losing, for example, any Tory MPs nominated for a peerage right now.

What fun facts.

At 8.39am, Politics UK reveals an as-yet-unverified report that Nadine Dorries and Alok Sharma have been removed from Boris Johnson's honours list, and will go back to vetting.

(They also reveal that Big Dog's dad has been removed from the list, because nominating your dad for a Peerage is "inappropriate". Sorry, Bigger Dog. Apparently even corrupt ghoul Rishi Sunak has a limit to what open corruption he will allow, which is news to us all, most of all Rishi.)

10.41am

Nadine Dorries decides she will play to her strengths, and appear on TV to do some Public Speaking, which always goes well for her of course.

Nothing, let's remember, has been confirmed yet at all. But she's here to put people's minds at ease! No power-hungry status-chasing pink maniac, she! She is very clear in her aims.

“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”

Quite right, Nadine. That would be disastrous.

11.20am

Oh, it’s Tory think tank NRG’s conference in Doncaster today. Gideon George Osborne, pig-stupid former Grand Vizier and idiot fail-heir to David "pig-fucker" Cameron, gives a speech. Let's see some quotes!

On the Tories’ choices of chancellors since he personally fell on his sword over Brexit left the role:

“You can see when the partnership doesn’t work. The government's paralysed and the politics is terrible.”

Fair, but also you are a government, George.

On Tories who attack the civil service:

“We’re in charge of our country’s destiny. We should stop blaming others if we don’t get things right."

... right. But you just... Uh.

On Tory culture warriors:

“It’s really important that the Conservative Party is excited about the country we aspire to lead… and doesn’t get in to ‘we’re against all these groups of people’. We’re the inclusive people.”

Well, points for clearing that absurdly low bar, I guess. Christ, I cannot BELIEVE Suella Braverman is making George fucking Osborne look good-by-comparison.

1pm

Ooh. Nadine's attempts to put minds at ease have inexplicably not worked, can't think why not. She's such a reassuring and charismatic speaker normally.

But the rumour is now FLYING about that Nadine has indeed been dropped from the honours list, and specifically because Sunak wants to avoid a by-election that will lose him more seats at a time when he is desperate for even a mat on the floor as long as it's blue.

Sorry, Nads. Still; this morning you were very clear that the constituency comes first, so I suppose that's okay. The priority now is that she MUST stay in position, so the Tories can keep their numbers steady. It is VITAL she remains an MP. Let's remember her exact words!

“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”

3.45pm

Nadine Dorries tweets her resignation.

The last thing she does as an MP is indeed to cause a by-election in her constituency.

3.50pm

Except this is Nadine Dorries we're talking about. She's found some flashy balls to juggle, look, and a boy to pour custard down her trousers.

Not five minutes after dropping the bombshell, she deletes the last tweet announcing her resignation, and tweets a new one.

The new tweet says, “it is now time for another to take the reins” as the MP for Mid-Bedfordshire.

The original tweet said, “it is now time for someone younger to take the reins.”

On Talk TV, Dorries says that "something significant did happen to change my mind", but doesn’t elaborate.

3.56pm

The whispers are whispering. The rumours are rumouring. The knives are sharpening.

Nadine's now-former seat is Mid-Bedfordshire, and has been Tory since 1929; a safe seat, which certainly explains how Nadine fucking Dorries managed to hold it for as long as she did.

An MP on the right of the Tory party says that if the Tories lose the Mid Bedfordshire by-election, it’ll open questions about Rishi Sunak's leadership CLOWNFALL 3: REVENGE OF BIG DOG LET'S GOOOOOO

3.57pm

Nadine Dorries is removed from the WhatsApp group.

I would love to know who leaked that image. I really should not have that image. Ah well. Now you do too.

4.12pm

Good tweet alert!

5.08pm

Phew! What a day. Let's see how Rishi's getting on.

He approves the rest of BoJo's honours list. Shall we take a look at our newly-honoured citizens? Shall we see what familiar names crop up?

Honours for staff at centre of Partygate Jack Doyle, Rosie Bate-Williams and Shelly Williams-Walker (and a lot of other terrible and disgraced people who were loyal to Johnson, and some of Carrie Antoinette’s friends).

Damehoods for Andrea Jenkyns and Priti Patel.

Knighthoods for Jacob Rees-Mogg, Conor Burns, and Michael Fabricant.

An OBE for Kelly Jo Dodge, Parliamentary hairdresser.

Also honours for Ben Houchen, currently at the heart of a media storm about dodgy property deals. His huge regeneration project in Teesside is subject to a government investigation regarding the governance, finance and value for money.

(Interesting point – Tory MPs Allister Jack and Nigel Adams were offered peerages, but decided to wait, since accepting now would trigger by-elections.

Why were they offered at all, do you think?)

So … this means Michael Fabricant is now Sir Michael Fabricant. Like, actually. Genuinely.

Nice one, Rishi. Thank goodness you understand AIs.

5.44pm

The Guardian’s Pippa Crerar - journalist who brought down Big Dog one Partygate reveal at a time - tweets her guide to he honours list:

Martin Reynolds, former PPS, invited 200 officials to drinks in Downing St garden. He told officials to "bring your own booze", later adding: "We seem to have got away with it".

Shelley Williams-Walker, getting a Damehood, was No 10 head of opps & now runs his office. At No 10 party the night before Prince Philip's funeral she was dubbed "DJ SWW" for her banger playlist.

Jack Doyle & Rosie Bate-Williams, who get OBEs, were press spox who repeatedly denied the parties happened

Dan Rosenfield, who gets a peerage, quit in mass exodus of senior No 10 staff as anger over Partygate grew. Former chief of staff faced reports he was among senior Downing Street officials who attended a Christmas quiz when restrictions were in place.

Shaun Bailey, who ran unsuccessfully for London mayor, gets a peerage, and Ben Mallett, a close friend of Carrie Antoinette's who ran Zac Goldsmith’s disastrous mayoral campaign, gets an OBE. Both are in this picture of a lockdown-flouting party at CCHQ:

What a sea of punchable faces.

7.58pm

But we've been so focused on Nadine! She's fucked up her juggling, look, but she's sliding around on the rollerskates, ever so distracting. But here's the thing, Tumblrs, here's the thing:

Among all of this, what's the Chief Clown doing?

The Privilege Committee reveals in their draft report that Boris Johnson misled Parliament, and recommends a sanction of more than 10 days.

Does that sound too little? Are you wishing it were smething more meaningful? Let me help put it in context.

This sanction would be enough to trigger a by-election in Johnson’s seat.

8.02pm

Boris Johnson

QUITS

as an MP

The committee said Johson had “impugned the integrity” of the House of Commons. Fascinating! I didn't know its honour had ever been pugned.

He accuses the inquiry of trying to “drive me out”!!!!

"It is very sad to be leaving parliament - at least for now - but above all I am bewildered and appalled that I can be forced out, anti-democratically, by a committee chaired and managed, by Harriet Harman, with such egregious bias".

Worth noting that the committee has a Conservative majority, mind. But you mustn't let things like facts get in the way of your feelings, BlowJo. You never have as a politician. Nor as a journalist, come to that.

(Also SIDE NOTE – “at least for now”?? What are you planning, Big Dog?? I suppose Nadine is leaving an empty seat...)

8.41pm

Christopher Hope of the Daily Telegraph reports he’s heard rumours of a THIRD Tory MP potentially resigning – and another Johnson loyalist at that. Lol. Trololol. Lmao, even. Perhaps rofl.

11.43pm

And finally, the day is wrapped up with the Guardian revealing their front cover for the following day:

Big Dog is OUT, hot trans bloke is IN.

Not a bad finish.

#asks #long post #politik #the adventures of big dog the clown

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covetyou · 1 month

Text

egg hunt

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (m! receiving), balls, questionable use of sex toys, semi-public blowjobs, eggs, Joel is a giant bunny, feelings, misunderstandings leading to angst. word count: 5.9k summary: Catching Joel dressed as a giant rabbit in your backyard wasn't on your bingo card for things to happen to you this year. But, what waits for you beneath the bunny suit, and in his basket, aren't the only surprises you'll have tonight.

A/N: truth be told I find eggs genuinely, criminally funny in every possible way, as well as disgusting, so happy Easter!

These egg things are hilarious, but also not nearly as fun as they seem, though if I'd had the genius idea to stick 'em on some balls I imagine I would've had a much better time tbh.

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You almost don't notice, too busy shoving your cup harshly against the ice dispenser before taking a long, deep, gulp of the cold liquid. But then you see it, and it's not the shock of cold to your esophagus that makes your eyes widen, spluttering icy water before sucking in a desperate breath.

No. It's the ghostly white figure rummaging around in your backyard on all fours.

You duck down just as it stands, holding on tightly to the counter edge with both hands, before crawling to the backdoor to check it's locked, keeping you safely inside away from whatever this thing was. But, just as you reach for the latch, the creature stands on two legs, stretching back with two thick arms on its waist.

The figure is broad, and tall, and... dressed in what appears to be a giant bunny onesie. Even with it's head covered in a white hood, bunny ears flapping as the creature bends and moves, you know what it is. Who it is. You'd recognize those shoulders just about anywhere, and no one else would pull something like this at 9pm on a Sunday.

It had been weeks since you last saw him, but you can't say that was a surprise - what you had wasn't exactly a regular thing, if it could be called a thing at all. That doesn't mean you hadn't been hoping for it, counting down the days to the next holiday in hopes you'd see him again - There was no denying your disappointment St. Patrick's day came and went with no sign of a leprechaun and a pot of gold. Now, he was finally here, dressed head to toe in a bunny suit, doing fuck knows what to your lawn.

"The fucker..."

Unlocking the door, you slink out into the night, sliding it closed behind you before creeping across the yard. This was new, getting to be the one to surprise him. He may have been in your yard, but with each soft step of your foot on the grass it looked like you were finally going to one up him.

But then he turns around, looking toward the house and seemingly straight through you for a moment...

Before his eyes focus on you in the dark, and everything in his hands goes tumbling to the ground as he practically leaps out of his bunny suit.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ."

"We've got to stop meeting like this," you say watching Joel's giant bunny ears flap in the air with his movement as he bends, reaching down to the grass to pick up the basket he dropped.

"You half scared the shit outta me, what're you doin' out here?" he grumbles as he rights himself.

"What are you doing out here? It's my yard. You Bunny Joel this time?" you joke, crossing your arms over your chest in a not-so-smooth attempt to cover yourself. Getting properly dressed had been the last thing on your mind when you stumbled down the stairs, legs still jelly and head still fuzzy from post-orgasm bliss. The only thought that registered was how damn thirsty you were as you tugged a worn, old shirt over your head and made your way to the kitchen. It wasn't cool enough to blame the temperature shift on your quickly puckering nipples, and you didn't feel like explaining where your panties were or why your thighs were simultaneously sticky and slippery. You're just grateful you put on anything at all, and at the very least it was long enough to cover your ass.

Joel smirks, your fruitless attempt at modesty not going unnoticed. "Ain't no regular bunny, darlin'. I'm the Easter Bunny."

"And the difference is...?"

"Eggs."

You laugh, folding yourself over a little as you giggle into the night. The whole get up really is ridiculous enough on its own, yet here you are discussing the nuances of being a giant bunny with a man more fond of playing dress up than anyone else you'd ever met.

"Eggs?"

You spot them as soon as the word leaves your mouth - four colorful eggs sat neatly in his basket, and another nestled into your flowerbed. Only, they don't look like normal eggs at all. Squinting in the dark, the yard lit only by shitty solar lights you'd bought online last summer, you can make out the neat patterns swirled all over them. This was not the handiwork of some enthusiastic child dying eggs for Easter - they looked professionally painted. Joel shakes the basket at you as you continue to squint at it, and you realise not a single one has cracked or broken, even after being dropped on the floor.

"What are they? Egg shaped bouncy balls?"

"Got some balls right here if you're really that interested," he jokes, looking obscene as he waggles his eyebrows at you beneath the hood of the bunny onesie. "Here, they're just these... things. My brother got 'em for me as a joke, it's a long story."

He passes you one of the eggs, the surface smooth and cool in your hand. There's writing on it that you can just about make out, but you still have no clue what you're holding as you turn it around in your palm.

Sensing your confusion, Joel offers a choice gesture, as he explains that they're for "Y'know."

It clicks. Well, sort of. You know for sure then that they're not something you could sneak away for some solo playtime, like with the plug he dutifully left on by your bedside so many weeks ago but maybe, like the contraptions Joel had strapped over his balls your last two encounters, you could enjoy them together.

"Wait, so... you're giving me a thing for anatomy I don't even have?"

"No it's not like that, I just thought - I, well, shit."

"I'm just fuckin' with you, Bunny Joel. Though giving me a gift that's really a gift for yourself is a bit of a dick move."

"Ain't a dick move if you like 'em, sweetheart. And it's Easter Bunny Joel," he corrects with a wink, smiling at you as he drops the basket on the ground to pull at his neck tie. The man looks good in pink, you think, as he fiddles with the floppy satin.

"Y'know, Easter Bunny Joel doesn't quite roll off the tongue."

"Don't it?"

"Nope," you say with a pop, pinching the material of Joel's Bunny onesie to feel the fabric between your finger tips as your roll the egg across the palm of your other hand. "Think you need a better name than that."

"Okay, I'll bite. What you got in mind?"

You're walking your fingers down his chest now, dancing them in a criss-cross pattern across the fastenings at the front of the suit until you reach his hip and slowly you drag the tips of your fingers closer to his crotch until you're cupping his bulge. You wouldn't say he's entirely flaccid, there's certainly something there, but the length of him still feels pliable beneath your hand as you stroke over the front of his costume.

"I was thinking... Flopsy," you say with a squeeze of your palm against his cock, biting back a laugh when you hear him hiss a breath of night air through his teeth.

"Real funny."

"What? If you're committed to the bit, I can be too," and before he can protest you slip the fingers of your free hand between the fastenings on the front of his suit. You can feel his skin underneath, hot and sticky, trapped beneath the synthetic fabric of the bunny costume. At the very least, he's topless under there, and eager to find out more, you quickly yank at the front, grinning devilishly at Joel as the fabric pops open slightly.

"You really wanna be gettin' into this out here?"

"You scared, Flopsy?" you say, with another squeeze to his now much harder cock. "That side is up for sale, and Janet is out of town until Tuesday. No one's seeing anything. Unless you're scared someone might hear something... but I guess you'll just have to keep quiet."

"F- you're gonna be the death of me, darlin'," he mutters, pulling at his pink tie so it hangs loosely around his neck, giving him better movement to look down at your hand where it strokes his cock over the soft plush of the rabbit costume.

You tug again at the suit and with a rapid pop pop pop, the remaining fastenings hiding his chest from you pull open, revealing him to you and... he's a mess. From the neck down he's covered in streaks of paint, multicolored blooms splattered across him, dusting his ribs like a rainbow of bruises.

"Kid had some powder paint stuff - y'know that festival of color thing? Well, kid had some left after a party with a friend from school... had a little fight in the yard earlier before I dropped her back with her mom for the week," he explains quickly, rubbing a hand nervously against his chest and smearing the splattered rainbow there. You make a mental note, adding has a kid to the very short list of confirmed facts you know about Joel. It's not exactly a surprise revelation, all things considered - the costumes had to come from somewhere, and most grown men don't just have fairy wings and toy bows and arrows lying around.

"Well, Flopsy, you make a mighty fine canvas, but I think I might need a hand with this."

The egg you'd been turning in your hand is deposited back into his grasp just as you tug him forward giving him a peck on the chin as you look at him expectantly. Joel knows he shouldn't pull you toward him and kiss you out here, he thinks he knows that the expectant look is nothing to do with kissing him and everything to do with the egg in his hand, but he does anyway. Slotting his mouth against yours, he pulls you into his chest, the sweat of his skin transfering blotches of paint from his chest to your old shirt. But you don't care, holding yourself tighter to him, pushing your fingers underneath his hood to card them through his hair. Joel groans into your mouth when your fingertips rub at his scalp. You're in half a mind to call him such a good bunny but the air, and the thought, is knocked out of you the next second when he presses a hand against your ass, pulling you further into him so he can grind his hardened length against your lower belly.

It's been far too long since someone held you against them like this, and far too long since Joel had had someone like you in his arms. As he kisses and kisses you, you're starting to feel more and more insane, and maybe you are - maybe accepting this man into your home with such regularity is the mark of insanity, some kind of as-of-yet undiscovered syndrome that's going to be named after you.

Eventually, you muster the strength to pull away, slapping a hand gently to his chest and nodding down to the egg gripped in his fist. You're eager to see it in action, even if you still can't quite picture what it is.

"C'mon, open it for me. Gotta properly thank the Easter Bunny for bringing me Easter eggs."

Joel slips the wrapper of the egg, something you never could've figured out on your own without decent lighting to guide your way, and presses a thumb into the side of it, popping the top off the egg in one smooth movement.

Before he can hand it to you, you slip down to your knees, bare shins resting against the cool, damp grass. It's a beautiful clear night, not trace of the moon in sight just yet, but the glimmer of stars sparkling relentlessly overhead regardless. You hadn't noticed how hot you'd gotten, but being around Joel always seemed to do this to you. Your cheeks felt hot, your heart beat faster, and your head felt slightly dizzy - the result of it emptying itself of all thoughts except the ones that made you make questionable decisions it seemed. Of course, this time the heat wasn't just from proximity, but from that damned fabric of his costume, the synthetic fibers making you feel sweaty as you held onto him. The grass beneath you is a welcome relief against your warm skin, sending the fine hairs on your body prickling at the sensation.

"This how you say thank you to everyone? On your knees?"

"It's how I say thank you to giant bunnies, Joel," you quip back, pressing a kiss to the softness of his belly. You litter a string of kisses down the trail of hair until you reach the boundary of the bunny suit. Whether he's commando or you have another layer to get through, you don't yet know, but you waste no time finding out. With the hook of your finger and a final swift pull, the last fastenings bursts open, revealing Joel's heavy length straining against the front of his boxers. Where his tip tents the fabric, a darker patch blooms, turning the gray practically black with precum.

In your dreams, and there had been many of them, it didn't go like this. Dream you rarely went three rounds with themselves before Joel popped up to come fuck her brains out. Dream you was clever. And, as good as your solo session this evening was, you can't help but have a little regret for ruining yourself before the surprise main event. It was like eating a big meal right before someone suggested getting pizza. You could (and damn well would) eat pizza, but you couldn't enjoy it the same way. Pizza or Joel, you were going to savor it as best you could.

"Such a tease, Flopsy," you murmur as you kiss across his covered cock, nuzzling your face into it and watching in glee as his hand grips the opened egg that little bit tighter. Your fingers are pulling again, this time tugging down at his waistband. Joel is in half a mind to rid the egg of its shell and use the damn thing as a stress ball. It had been too long since last time, and since he last came two fucking days ago, to be seeing you on your knees for him in that flimsy t-shirt. It felt like a gift from the heavens and divine retribution wrapped up in one you shaped package.

As you pull his cock from the confines of his boxers, feeling the deep pulse of the blood in his veins as you wrap your fingers around him, you can't believe your luck at getting to see it in the flesh again. As brilliantly as your mind can concoct the image of it, the reality of it is so much better than any fantasy. Before you let yourself get lost in it, you reach for Joel's hand, grabbing the egg back from him and watching the top fall to the ground and roll across your lawn.

"It stretches. Goes over and you just - uh - stroke with it I guess."

The inside is far from what you expected. You almost find it gross, the translucent white interior far squishier than you expected that it'd be bordering on slimey if it was wet too. Joel laughs down at you, seeing your face as you try to work out what the fuck you're holding, pulling it free from the rest of the shell and seeing a hole stuffed with a plastic tube. You can see what he means now, and you let a soft oh fall from your lips as you tug the tube filled with a sachet of lube from the middle of the toy. You feel inside, running your fingers over soft ridges, and you can only imagine how nice it must feel sliding wetly up and down a cock and, not for the first time in your life, you wish you could experience it yourself. But, the next best thing is right in front of you, and that'll have to do.

"These feel good?" you ask, his eyes turning glassy as you examine the inside of the stroker while your hand still tugs slowly up and down his cock.

Joel sighs deeply, nodding down at you, the obscene bunny ears still flopping on his head with each movement. "S'good. Nothin' like the real deal but, yeah. Feel nice."

Gripping Joel's cock in your fist, you begin to stroke gently up and down, sliding his foreskin back and forth over his cock until he's steely hard beneath your palm. The solar lights are starting to dim, their charge from the day already running out, but you can still see the dusky red tip, and the blue of the vein that runs down his shaft. You squish the toy in your other hand, the temptation to taste too strong to just leave all the fun to the squishy silicone. So, you press a delicate kiss right to the tip.

"Oh fuck," Joel hisses.

"Missed it," you confess on your knees with another kiss.

"Yeah? Well, s'all yours." Mine.

"Really? Your bunny wife not going to chase me out of my own yard?"

"Know damn well I ain't got a wife, I ain't the cheatin' kind, darlin', don't you worry."

And that admission alone sends your aching cunt throbbing between your legs, wishing even more desperately now that you weren't completely wrecked and oversensitive from your ill-timed playtime upstairs.

"Good," is all you say before taking his head in your mouth with a swirl of your tongue, a satisfied moan vibrating against his tip as you taste him properly for the first time in 4 months. "I've been thinking about doing this."

"Yeah? Been thinking about sucking my cock?"

"Mhm."

"Shit."

A simple continuous swirl of your tongue and small bob of your head was apparently enough to have him gripping his hands into tight fists, clearly fighting some internal demons to keep himself from coming so soon. Your mind absolutely fizzes with it, that this man wants you, likes what you do to him so much that you can have such an affect on him. And when you suck lightly, his head tips back so far the hood slides back off his head. All you can see is the underside of his jaw from where you look up from your knees, and when looks back down at you with heavy eyes, he looks the most normal you've ever seen him. He's not Santa, nor Cupid, and the costume that had rendered him Bunny Joel just a second ago instead drapes around him like nothing more than a soft, white coat.

"Thought about you tasting you," you mutter between mouthing at his cock, slicking his entire length with your saliva. "Having you come in my mouth. On my face."

Joel groans again, much louder this time and you can't help but laugh, mouth pressed to his balls, at his feeble attempt at silence. You press the tip of your finger, egg still clutched in your fist, to his dribbling slit, and drag a tooth grazing kiss across his sensitive ball skin as you silence him with a whisper.

"Shh, Flopsy. You don't want us to get caught."

"Fuckin' Flopsy, I should -"

But you don't hear what he should do, because you engulf his tip with your mouth once again and Joel finds himself speechless as you immediately slide your lips further down his slicked length with ease. You work him in your mouth, sucking him as you move up and down. He can't stop moaning, he doesn't even try. He should, he thinks. You deserve better than getting caught in your backyard doing something like this, but all he can think about each time you move your tongue just like that is how fucking good your mouth feels.

He feels like he's going to come. Your hand is massaging gently over his balls, your mouth working his cock to a near frenzy, and he is absolutely, one hundred percent sure he's going to come. You know he's almost there. If the groaning wasn't enough, the tightening in his balls and the twitching of his cock were a clear sign he was about to blow.

Then you stop.

Just like that, your mouth is gone. Your hands too. And he's having to force himself to look down at you where you stare in awe at the stroker in your hands, glistening with lube you'd poured into it as he bit his lip and fought off coming, untouched, into the breeze.

You want to use it on him, to listen to him groan as you stroke him with the soft silicone, and watch his every move as you work him over the edge. And his cock, as if calling to you like some kind of siren of the sea, beckons you in, accepting an offering of one last kiss before you raise the stroker.

"It's so stretchy," you gasp, as you slide the toy over the tip of Joel's cock. You can pull it almost all the way down the length of him. You make a few experimental twists and jerks, before settling into a slow rhythm, teasing him just as you'd teased yourself and dragged out your own orgasm upstairs.

It's interesting. Slipperier than your own hand, easier than your own mouth, but not quite the same as either. You can't feel him like this, and you certainly can't taste him.

"Do you like it?" you ask, and Joel doesn't quite know what to answer. He does like it - he likes having your hands on him any way he can get it, but he can't feel you in the same way like this. And it's definitely not as good as your mouth, or any other hole of yours he's fucked.

There's just enough light to see his face give a noncommittal twitch and you're peeling the toy off of him, sucking his tip back into your mouth quickly, moaning as the taste of him hits your tongue.

"Good, because I prefer it like this too."

"Fuck, yeah."

Now though, you have a lubed up, saggy egg in your hand and nowhere to put it. Until an absolutely inspired idea hits you square in the face and you're grinning with Joel's cock in your mouth.

He barely sees the fiendish look in your eye, just notices as you pull off him again, and he could scream. Then, something smooth and cold coats his balls. Your fingers are cradling him delicately, thumb and forefinger stretching open the toy until with a gentle wiggle, his balls are encased in the squishy silicone. And holy fuck, is it like nothing he's ever felt.

"Don't think that's how you use it, darlin'. But, shit, it's good," he gasps as you gently massage his balls through the toy. It's like having a soft cool mouth encasing his entire ballsack, while your actual mouth kisses delicately all over his cock. "C'mon now, stop your teasin', gotta come in the pretty fuckin' mouth."

He's back in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence, your mouth sounding wet an obscene as you work him up and up and up all over again. You draw him in deeper, his cock meeting the back of your throat, over and over, his hand coming to cup your face and delicately wipe away a tear from your watering eyes. Fuck, you're wishing more than ever that you could just jump on him, that your cunt wasn't wrecked, or that it didn't matter, that you could go infinite rounds and still want to be touched again and again. But that wasn't you. You had a limit and, even though you'd reached it, the want in you didn't go away and neither did the slick feeling between your legs or the deep throb of your pulse beating away in your clit.

Joel's fingers grip tighter on the side of your face, a soft thrust of his hips meeting every movement of your head. Catching his eye almost kills you then and there with his cock wedged at the back of your throat. He looks as wrecked as you feel, dark eyes shining down like black holes from space now that the light from your solar lamps has all but fucked off. The paint and rabbit ears almost fade away into the background as you hold yourself down on his cock, making yourself whine around him. You're starting to think if you sucked his cock for long enough you could make yourself come totally untouched, but you don't want to think about it. You can't.

He takes over then. Each slip of your lips down his cock met with a gentle hold, until you both do it all over again. It's easier to hold for longer each time, almost feeling deeper with each slide of his cock across your tongue, the taste of his precum making you salivate as much as having your mouth filled and occupied is.

Then, he presses you down, holding your head as you moan and whine and try desperately to swallow around him, to take more of him as he only seems to get harder.

"Not so Flopsy now, huh?" he asks, releasing you and pushing your head down on his cock once more.

He's fucking into your mouth now, small shallow thrusts hitting the back of your throat, your hand working the toy slickly across his balls as he moans more desperately than you've ever heard him moan before. Despite your teasing and edging, he's the one holding back now, the feel of your mouth on his cock, your nails scratching at his belly, and that damned toy sliding across his balls far too much for him to want to let go of any time soon.

But fuck is he close, and if he's not careful he's going to ruin it for himself by holding back and exploding without warning. He's waited too long for that to happen.

"I'm gonna -"

"Mhm!" you groan around his dick, nodding as much as you can with it in your mouth. You steady your hand against his waist, taking over all movement as he stills the slow gyration of his hips, bobbing your head faster as you suck him down. The swirl and flick of your tongue is positively relentless, and everything feels so wet and warm and fucking perfect that he knows he's a goner.

"Hn-uhhhhh, fuck. Ah, fuck, don't stop, don't stop, fuck, ugh!"

He bursts, salty in your mouth, filling your throat as you swallow around him, massaging and gripping his heavy balls as they twitch in your palm through the thick silicone.

You're only a bit of a mess when you pull off of him. Your lips are swollen and tingly, your hand slippery with lube, but you are totally, utterly content. The slick feeling between your legs is still there, so is the throb, but you're as satisfied as you could possibly be.

Pulling yourself to your feet is another story. Your legs have gone a bit numb from sitting on your knees for so long, and you stumble as you fight to right yourself, Joel catching you just before you tumble into the flowerbed. You laugh in his arms, his mouth pressed to yours as he swallows the sound, consumes it, wills it to make home in his body so he never forgets it.

Joel's fingers work their way under your thin shirt. He'd been looking between your face and your nipples the entire time you were on your knees for him, and he suspects you're entirely naked under there. When his fingers meet your sticky thighs, he thinks he's hit the jackpot, and is ready to return the favor through the haze of his own orgasm, when you stop him.

"I, uh... sorted myself out not too long ago. A few times."

"Damn, if I'd known I woulda come right up and helped you out myself. Thought you were sleepin', house was dark. Jus' playing with this sweet thing all along, huh?"

If he had known, he would have known how much you thought about him as you fucked yourself on your fingers. He would have known how you used the plug he left on your bedside table more than any of the others, crying his name out into the lonely expanse of your bedroom as you came quicker, and harder, than you had any right to. If he had known, he'd know how well and truly fucked you were over a man you still knew practically nothing about.

Of course, you knew some physical things. You knew what he looked like naked, how broad he was and how sweaty he got when he fucked you. You knew what he sounded like groaning into your mouth or laughing at a silly quip you'd thrown at him. You knew what he tasted like, and what you tasted like off of his tongue. But that was where your knowledge of him ended. You didn't know what he did for work, or if he even liked his job. You didn't know his favorite food or color. You didn't know what he sang in the car. You didn't know where he lived or what he drove - you didn't even know his full name, and you knew exactly why.

You were scared. Terrified, actually. Terrified to really get to know him, to break that blissful illusion of the tall, dark stranger who rocked your world on a seasonal basis, only to find you didn't like him at all. Or worse - that he didn't like you.

So, when you walk him through your house, egg disposed of and hands washed, listening to the soft snap of his suit being closed up around his bare body, you desperately try to ignore the longing ache in your chest, stopping any request for him to stay, to take you out for coffee in the morning before it stupidly tumbles out of your mouth. That's not what this is.

Instead, you wordlessly reach for your keys, smiling sweetly to him as if you hadn't just been waging war against yourself inside your head.

"What're you doing," he says, pointing to the keys held in your hand. "Goin' somewhere, or comin' home with me?"

"No, smart ass, this is a key, it locks doors. Just gonna lock up after you leave."

Joel's smile drops from his face. And you don't know why, but it has alarm bells immediately blaring in your head.

"What?" you ask nervously, eyes darting around his face as if you're trying to read his mind as he takes a slow step toward you, a frown slowly pulling his brow down as he pieces some mystery together.

"The door locks when it closes, then you the take the key and lock it again after?"

"... Maybe? Yes?"

"Wait. And you're tellin' me you do that every night."

"Yes, I lock my door every night Joel, what's wrong with that." Obviously your lock was no match for his lock picking skills, but you didn't consider that Joel perhaps didn't know how locks worked at all.

"What's wrong with that is you're unlocking your door every night and leaving it unlocked all night."

Your blood turns cold. You don't know why. You could just not believe him, or test for yourself, but something about his reaction, and his seemingly easy ability to get into your house, tells you that what he says is exactly right. It's your turn for your smile to drop, and you can feel it slip off your face just as your heart starts rapidly hopping in your chest.

"Oh. I - I thought..."

"It ain't that kind of lock, sweetheart. You never checked it after lockin' it?"

"No. No I - My last place, the lock, I had to - oh my god." There's dread now. A sickening cocktail of feelings swirling through your body, turning you red hot and cold over and over as you think of all the things that could've happened, how lucky you were they didn't, after all this time. Damn near a year, and you hadn't figured out how to properly work your own fucking door.

"How d'you think I been gettin' in? Didn't exactly climb down the chimney or fly in through the window the last two times. Maybe shouldn'ta done it that first time, but your tree was driving me mad, seein' it bare like that every time I drove past. You weren't in and the door was open, was only gonna be quick and then..."

You're not listening. Your heart has just stopped like it's been hurtled into a brick wall at 100mph. "Wait, you drive past my house?"

"Where else am I gonna fuckin' drive?!"

A thousand million volts straight to your chest, and your heart is beating again, racing, your voice raising with it, brandishing the pointy end of your key at him like it could save you now. "Have you been stalking me?"

"What? No! I live down the fuckin' street, I drive by to get to my house, I thought you knew that."

"Down the street?"

"Yes. I'm hardly gonna come from outta town just to fix your lights and your sink and fuck off again. I was just... bein' neighborly, I guess."

"You've been in my house fixing my shit without me here?"

It's just revelation after revelation. You can't believe it. You can't believe yourself for one, but you can't believe him either. Only you can. You very much believe him, and you hate that you do and you hate that, deep down, you know he's right and you're exactly the kind of idiot he's undoubtedly thinking you are.

"You ain't fuckin' noticed?! You had a light out in here, your kitchen faucet was drippin', your railin' in your hall closet was bust... you didn't notice anythin'? Are you even fuckin' in that pretty head o' yours?"

Suddenly you're feeling very stupid. The door is one thing, the minor home repairs another, but you'd been under the impression you were both on the same page this entire time. That it was some silly game you played, two strangers who had next to no clue about each other. All this time he knew who you were, but you were too fucking preoccupied and distracted and stupid to see that he was right there.

The heat in your checks crackles in your ears, misting over your eyes and making your entire body feel fuzzy. That fight or flight you'd been wondering about for the last few months has suddenly decided to make an appearance, settling on both as you fight back tears with a quivering lip.

"Get out." It's silent fury, building white hot as the seconds tick by with him standing, staring at you like you're the one dressed as a giant rabbit and not him.

"What? Darlin', c'mon, it's okay -"

"Get. Out." You wrench the door open, pushing him and his stupid fucking bunny costume out, shoving the basket of eggs into his arms once he crosses the doorway.

"Bye." You slam the door, the stupid fucking self locking door, and slide down it, head in your hands. You have never felt so fucking stupid.

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #coveted fics #big bawl jawl #never forget the balls #fic: dress up joel

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 5 months

Note

hihi

could i request prompt 37 with Larissa x

We Want Who We Want ~Larissa Weems xFem CollegeAge!Reader ~Holiday Bingo

Hi hi anon! Happy Holidays!!! Thank you for the request. I always love getting and writing them! This is my second Holiday Bingo for the 2023 season. This one is with the regal and elegant Larissa Weems. Enjoy! ❄️💋

Previous Bingo <—found here!

Holiday Bingo <—Here!!

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Prompt- Sky Resort/Winter Cabin

#37. Best Friend’s Mom troupe

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smut, age gap (all legal), mommy kink, kissing, grinding, fingering, thigh grinding, strap-on use, strap-fucking, multiple positions, teasing, semi-pda, flustering, light power play, light taunting, light overstimulation, implied future smut, implied eating out, etc.

Enjoy (;

“Thank you for having me, Mrs. Weems.”

You thanked the mom of your best friend as you got into the Weems’ car. They had invited you to their ski resort/winter cabin. You had been best friends with their daughter since grade school, and now you were both in college. You had been close to the whole family really, having been raised in the same neighborhood.

“Please Darling, call me Larissa.” Mrs. Weems insisted with her hypnotizing voice and her familiar smile.

Jesus… You had forgotten how much you enjoyed Mrs. Weems’ voice…

You blushed lightly and nodded.

“Of course, Larissa” you said, purposefully accentuating her name.

It was your first time seeing the Weems’ family since you went off to college last year. And so when they had found out that you were in town for winter break, the who family immediately invited you to come with to their winter resort.

And how could you refuse?

And so here you were, sitting in between your childhood bestie and her younger brother, in the back seat of Mrs. Weems’ white Volvo. The drive was a good ways away, as you were driving from Vermont to Whistler. But you didn’t mind.

The drive went by in a flash, and soon the car pulled up at the ski cabin. The time had flown by as you caught up with your bestie and her family. You talked about your college, she talked about hers, her brother talked sparsely about his school, Mr. Weems spoke a bit about his work, but by far the most capturing speaker was Mrs. Weems. Every time she spoke, the hours seemed to turn into minutes. You could listen to that woman talk for ages. And you happily egged her on to continue talking for majority of the drive. But like most things, they enjoyment seemed to fly by and come to an end.

“We are here…!!” Mrs. Weems exclaimed in an almost song-like expression, making you swoon lightly at her voice once more.

Everyone piled out of the car, and Mr. Weems immediately recruited your bestie’s brother to help him shovel the snow out of the driveway. Mrs. Weems Larissa delegated your best friend to grab the food stuffs and put it away in the kitchen.

“That leaves us, Darling. Would you mind helping me with the baggage…?” Larissa hummed in her low and musical tone.

These pet names tugged at your core far more than you remember them doing…

“I… of course, Mrs. Weems…!” You squeaked, a little intimidated by being alone with the tall blonde.

Larissa looked back at your and cocked her eyebrow at your expectantly.

“Oh Larissa-shit-Sorry right—!!” You exclaimed, your face getting red in embarrassment.

The woman’s eyes sparkled in a way that was new to you. She seemed amused… More than usual. She immediately smiled back at you when you corrected yourself.

“No worries, Dear.”

You blushed even more at the pet name, as you helped your best friend’s mom with the baggage. As you carried the luggage inside, your mouth dropped at the expansive and marvelous nature of the cabin.

This wasn’t a cabin… This was a fucking ski mansion.

Larissa chuckled lightly at your reaction.

“Let me show you around, Darling…” she hummed.

As you dropped off the baggage in each room, Larissa showed you the layout. The center of their ski resort was the common areas— kitchen, dining room, storage, living room, terrace, etc… Mr. Weems had the Northwest Wing, —This place had fucking wings—!!— The brother had the Southwest wing, and your bestie was in the Southeast wing. You dropped everyone’s bags off in each of their corresponding wings and rooms. Lastly, the Northeast wing was Larissa’s.

“The guest room that you will be staying in the Northeast wing right across from my private quarters.” Larissa informed you with a hum.

There was that sparkle in the woman’s eyes again…

“Thank you, Larissa…” you hummed right back.

Who were you to complain about being so close to such a goddess..??

You bit your lip lightly, as the woman smirked and opened your door, showing you into your room. Your eyes widened at the luxurious nature of the room, just as wealthy as the others… You placed your bags in the massive room.

And turned back to the woman. She seemed continually amused at your shock. Your gazes locked and your eyes gazed into Larissa’s for the moment. No words were spoken. You swore you caught the woman lick her lips, but part of you also swore that you imagined it. Neither of you backed down from the challenge of each other’s gaze.

Before you could think of it anymore, Suddenly you both heard Mr. Weems calling for everyone from the common space. The trance was broken and Larissa immediately swiveled towards the corridor and indicated for you to follow her back to the living room space.

You both met with the rest of the family in the living room, where Mr. Weems announced that he would be taking the children skying. He asked if you would be join them.

But before you could say anything, Larissa placed her hand on your waist and elegantly pulled you closer to her warm body. Your breathed hitched lightly at the physical closeness of the two of you. Your eyes widened and you looked to the side and up to the tall mother in anticipation.

“Actually, I will be needing her help in preparing for our holiday dinner. Plus, my Darling, I believe you don’t ski, isn’t that right…?” Larissa purred.

Her tone sounded… possessive…??

Now all eyes were on you. You gulped and locked eyes with Larissa, whose eye shored through your soul. All you could do was shake your head. She was still holding onto your waist. Your blush darkened.

“Excellent. Then it’s decided.” She exclaimed in her hypnotic tone, “You three go skying, while we prepare dinner.”

At the agreement of the rest of the family, Larissa let go of your waist. You could feel her hand burning into your clothes skin, and with that feeling suddenly gone, you instinctually let out a small whimper.

You desperately hoped that no one had caught it, and no one seemed to as no words about it were said. Mr. Weems and his children were busy running around to get their ski gear, as you just stood there frozen.

What has just happened…??

Suddenly you felt a hand against your back. You shivered through your entire body and looked up at Larissa as she guided you to the kitchen. She looks down at you with a knowing, darker smile. Before you knew it, the rest of the family had run out and left to hit the slopes before dark, leaving you alone with your mother’s best friend.

For the next few hours, Larissa had you complete menial tasks. Things such as dicing, mixing, chopping, and other cooking tasks. This wasn’t the problem.

The problem was the amount that this woman was affecting you… She was full on teasing and flirting with you. And it was fucking working.

All the pet names that she used… “Darling, would you be a doll and grab the tomato paste…?”, “That’s perfect, love. Just like that.”, “Oh Sweetheart, are you too short to reach that…?”

All the lingering touches on you… Her fingers lightly grazing across yours, Her hands squeezing your waist, her fingers tapping and running along your neck, her hands lightly massaging and lingering on your shoulders…

All the compliments she paid you unconditionally… “You look good in that, Darling…”, “You’re a natural, Love.”, “Such a good little sous-chef…”

It made you realize how much you like Larissa. And not just liked. But like like liked. The kind of like where by the time the family returned, you were day dreaming about the woman taking you against the counter… whispering filth in your ear… and making you forget everything but her.

But to be fair, you weren’t exactly being nice and fair to her either. You may have bent down a couple times in front of her after having “accidentally” dropped something… and you had no trouble purring out her name in every sentence you formed…

Then dinner came around, and you all sat down to eat. But Larissa didn’t relent. Sure, she was verbally less forward about her intentions, so that her family wouldn’t catch on. But her intentions were just as clear.

During dinner, Larissa had chosen to sit across from you. Throughout the meal, you felt her heeled foot graze up your leg, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. You took deep breaths as your breathing threatened to become labored the higher up her heel dragged up your legs.

She gave your daggers stares every once in a while, and the woman wore a mischievous smirk the entire meal. You swore you’d get her back…

Finally, dinner ended and everyone began to retreat to their rooms. Larissa snagged you once more to help her clean up the dishes. As you were washing the dirty dishes, the woman came up behind you, placing her lips on the shell of your ear.

“Meet me in my room once you’ve changed and are ready for bed…” She huskily whispered.

Shivers went through your spine and directly to your core. You nodded and didn’t say another word. Once the dishes were done, you raced to your room. You quickly stripped your clothes and hoped in the shower, desperate to wash off all the embarrassment and blush from your frame. After your shower, you went to put on your pajamas. On your bed when you returned from the shower, you found a set of silk pjs, a button down shirt and a pair of shorts. Along with the set, there was a note.

Wear these. Only these. ~Larissa <3

You gulped and nodded instinctively. You put on the pj set, and left your room, quietly creeping across the hall to Larissa’s room.

You knocked lightly, and the tall woman answered the door. She smiled lightly and opened the door slightly for you to slip in. She closed the door behind you.

“Have a seat, Darling.” She purred with a warm smile, indicating to the edge of the bed, “That set looks marvelous on you.”

“Thank you, Larissa…” you purred right back.

You sat on the edge of the bed, finally getting the courage to look at the woman. Your eyes widened as you saw Larissa. Her pinned back hair was completely unpinned, her blonde curls bouncing freely. She was wrapped up in a thin silver, silk coverup, that accentuated her curves perfectly. She still had somw makeup on, just her lipstick as far as you could tell. Her red, luscious lips… Your mouth went dry and you couldn’t help but stare.

“Cat got your tongue…?” Larissa teased, as she continued to elegantly stand right in your line of sight.

You gulped and blushed even more.

“I—Larissa. You look… really good…” you breathed out, your face tomato red with blush.

Larissa smirked and began to stalk slowly toward you. She stopped right in front of the edge of the bed. Her fingers delicate yet firm moved to cup your face, caressing your cheek. You instinctually leaned into the woman’s touch, closing your eyes and humming lightly in delight.

“I like my name on your tongue…”

Your eyes shot open at Larissa’s words. You gulped and looked up at her gaze. Her eyes were dark and shimmering like they were all day.

“I like it too…” you whispered in confession.

Larissa then leaned into your personal space, bringing her hot breath against your neck.

“Tell me if you want to stop, and I’ll stop, no questions asked, alright Darling…?” She breathed out.

“Yes. Don’t stop—” you let out in a gasp.

As soon as those words left your lips, Larissa mouth was on your neck, licking, sucking, and tasting your skin. You were sure that she would leave marks by the way she sucked, but you couldn’t care less right now. Larissa quickly found your sensitive spot. You craned your neck back and your eyes rolled back as your mouth opened in a silent scream.

“Ohhhhhh Larissa—” you breathily groaned.

Larissa hummed in delight at your groan. But she quickly pulled you away afterwards, making you whine.

“Tsk tsk, Darling, no whining.” She sternly told you.

Your eyes widened and you gulped.

“Sorry, Larissa”

Larissa smiled and nodded in understanding. She then picked you up with ease, making you yell lightly. She carried you back to the middle of the bed. You played on your back, propped up by your elbows, as you watched the older woman at the edge of the bed.

She began to teasingly remove her robe. You bit your lip and groaned.

“Please don’t tease…!” You pleaded with the woman.

Larissa chuckled and quickly removed her robe, revealing a crimson lingerie set.

“Alright, Darling…”

Larissa then crawled up the bed and came up on top of you. Both of your breathing were already labored. Your eyes locked once more. Before Larissa could do anything, you reached up with one hand, grabbing the woman’s neck and smashing your lips together. You groaned into the kiss. Larissa growled playfully, making quick work of grabbing your hands and holding them above your head.

“I’m in charge…” she purred darkly against your lips.

The kiss was heated and passionate. You could feel the years of built up need against the woman’s lips. Eventually, you bit had to pull away for air.

“Fuck. I’ve wanted to do that ever since high school…” you panted with a big shit eating grin spread across your face.

Larissa chuckled at your confession.

“I hear you, Darling… It took all of my restraint not to just take you in the kitchen earlier…”

Your mouth went dry and you bucked your hips up and groaned in response to her words.

“Yessss please Larissa…!”

“The walls are soundproof so if you want anything, you are going to have to scream and cry for it, Darling…” Larissa purred lustfully.

As she said this, she straddled your frame and began grinding her body against yours.

“Ohhhhhh fuck fuck” you panted, getting louder and louder, “please clothes—off Larissa—!!”

The woman still had your hands pinned above your head with the ease of one of her beautiful and manicured hands.

“Using your words, good girl…”

Shivers ran through your body at the praise, especially as you felt Larissa’s free fingers unbuttoning your pj shirt. You eyes fluttered open at this act and your mouth dropped at her unbuttoning your shirt one handed with ease.

Larissa met your gaze shortly as she continued to expose your chest.

“Not my first time, Darling…” she chuckled tauntingly.

“What, have you fucked your daughter’s best friend before?” You shot back.

As soon as the words had left your mouth, you gasped and you knew it had been a mistake. Larissa gaze met yours, staring you down. She chuckled again, but this one was darker and more wicked…

In one swift move, Larissa shifted you on top of her own lap, as she rested against the headboard of her bed. She placed you to where you straddled her one creamy thigh, and her hands were on your waist.

Your shirt was unbuttoned three quarters of the way. You gulped and looked towards the woman. She met your gaze with a smirk. The hands on your hips ground you down of her thigh, making your squeal in pleasurable stimulus. Your hips instinctually bucked against her thigh, desperate for the stimulus. The combination of her creamy thigh and the thin silk against your exposed cunt made you dizzy. Larissa continued to grind you against her thigh, not relenting. You bumped the woman’s thigh in needy desperation as she watched amusingly.

As your moans and yelps turned more incoherent, as you got wetter and wetter to the point of where you could combust any second, Larissa brought her lips against the shell of your ear.

“No, you are the only friend of my daughters who undresses me with your eyes and who acts a like a slut needing to be put in line…” Larissa darkly cooed.

“Ahhhhh mMmm fuck Larissa please—!!” You cried out breathily.

“What do you need, Darling…?” She teased.

“N-need… need to cum GOD please Larissa—!!!” You cried out, your body starting to shake from the stimulation.

Just as those words left your mouth, Larissa yanked you off her thigh, and dropped you in the spot of the bed in between her legs. You squeaked in dismay and response, almost ready to cry at how close you had been.

“No n-no Larissa please…” you immediately began to beg the woman.

Larissa simply shushed you, effectively silencing you. Her hand ran up and down your sensitive frame. You immediately leaned into her touch and purred in pleasure.

“Let’s make you purr properly…” she cooed lustfully.

Larissa then continued to removed your shirt, throwing it aside, and moving to your shorts, which were thrown aside just as easily. Her hands then positioned you to straddle her entire frame, exposing your cunt to the cold air and making you yelp lightly.

You then felt Larissa’s cold fingers cup your sex.

“Ahh ahhhhmmmm Larissa yessss please…!!”

Larissa smirked and slid two fingers into your cunt with ease.

“Darling, you are drenched.”

The words left the woman’s mouth with pride. You blushed but didn’t have it in your mind to respond, no you were too occupied, grabbing onto Larissa’s shoulders for support and desperately grinding against her hand.

“Yes yes yessss Larissa—” you hissed.

Her fingers pumped and curled inside you with ease and to no surprise to either of you.

“I’ve been working you up all day, hmmm love…? Making you such a needy girl…”

You nodded your head vigorously and groaned once more.

It didn’t take long before you were on the edge once more, and begging Larissa to let you cum.

“No, not yet.” She firmly told you.

You whimpered but nodded in understanding.

“What do you think my daughter, your best friend would think if she walked in on us…?” Larissa lustfully cooed.

Your eyes rolled back and you cried out at her words.

“Oh God No no no soooo bad—!!” You cried out, “please Larissa please need it need it so bad…!!!”

With that, Larissa pulled out of you completely.

“No fuck n-no!” You exclaimed and groaned loudly.

Larissa chuckled and firmly grabbed your cheeks, holding them together.

“Darling, You have no idea what you were getting yourself involved in… Are you still sure about this…?”

Suddenly a wave of confidence crashed over you, you lined yourself up with the woman’s clothed sex and ground yourself against her, making Larissa hiss out in pleasure.

“Give it to me, mommy… I can’t take it…” you whispered in the woman’s ear.

Suddenly, Larissa lunged you forward, flipping you back and on your back, as she towered over you and held you hands above your head once more, spreading you out like a starfish. She growled in your face, making you busk your hips up in desperation.

“Careful what you ask mommy for…”

You gulped and whimpered, still bucking your hips up for any kind of friction. Larissa then released you, and got off the bed. You immediately sat up in confusion.

“Get on all fours.” Larissa ordered, as she opened the side drawer of her bedside drawer.

You immediately did as you were told, getting on all fours so that you were facing the door. You heard Larissa shuffle to put something on, before joining you back on the bed, this time behind you.

“You want mommy to give it to you, Sweetheart…?”

Her tone dripped with lust. You gulped and nodded eagerly, wiggling your ass in the air.

“Yes yes yes mommy please—!!” You cried out.

Larissa came flush up against your behind, her strap-on dick gliding against your folds.

“Mommy’s applied generous lube on her dick, Baby… all ready to make you mine…” she growled.

Before you could respond, the woman was pushing her dick into your core.

“Ohhhhh ahhhh fuck fuck— Larissa!!” You cried out.

“Shhh, good girl… taking me so well, breathe, Darling…”

You took a deep breath, and then you could feel her dick all the way inside you, all the way to the hilt.

“Shiiiiiit…” your eyes rolled back, “More GOD MORE please mommy!!”

“Good girl.”

Larissa began rocking her hips back and forth, pulling her plastic dick in and out of you at a decent pace.

“Yes god Harder F-faster—!!!” You screamed desperately.

Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you like a vice.

“S-so close—-!! Larissa Mommy please…!!!” You screamed.

Larissa chuckled, and with one more hard thrust, you were coming on her dick. Hard. Screaming and panting.

But Larissa didn’t stop after that. No, she sped up. Tears began to fall down your face.

“F-fffuck Larissa god—!!” You screamed.

Before your mind could register anything, Larissa had flipped you back onto your back, fucking you into the mattress. Your mount opened in overwhelming pleasure.

As Larissa pounded into you and you could contain your screams, you suddenly lunged forward and smashed your lips into hers.

God were you definitely addicted to these lips…

Larissa full on moaned into the kiss, and she never relented in continuing to fuck you into her mattress. Not once. Your eyes rolled back and you screamed as your next orgasm overtook you.

Your whole body went limp after you came down from your high, and Larissa was quick to kindly help you down and off your high. She slowly pulled out of you, still a panting, limp mess. You collapsed on the bed, and Larissa was quick to throw the strap to the side and go into the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth, then coming up next to you.

“May I…?” She gently asked for permission to take care of you.

You nodded with your flushed face. Larissa hummed in satisfaction as she cleaned you up caringly. When she was done, she joined you on the bed, pulling you into her embrace.

You were beat and ready to fall asleep. You’d face the consequences of your actions tomorrow, you decided.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to get a proper taste of you, Darling…” Larissa hummed in your ear as she lazily ran her fingers through your hair, while you dozed off to sleep.

~~~

Next Bingo Fic <—Here!!

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Holiday Bingo 2023 Masterlist

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wannabe-fic-writer · 5 months

Text

Natasha x Reader : Body Heat

Summary: When a blizzard leaves you snowed in and freezing, your girlfriend comes up with a brilliant idea. Covers the ‘Ski Resort/Winter Cabin’ square of Holiday Bingo.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI - Smut, Slight Masturbation(R), Oral(R and N), Fingering(R), Face Riding(N), Tiniest smidge of overstimulation.

Word Count: 3k

* * * * * * * *

For a week you’d been cooped up in a fairly old van: driving, sleeping, and eating in it. So when Natasha told you that you’d be staying in a cabin until a new plan was made, you were more than happy.

With Ross on your asses, more like Natasha’s ass, after all the business with the Accords, you’d been running. It wasn’t exactly the life you thought you’d live with the woman but you were with her and that’s all you needed.

These last few days, things having slowed down just a little, have been a dream.

The cabin Natasha had found for you both was small but cozy. Equipped with one bedroom and bathroom, a kitchen, and living room with a fireplace, you had everything you needed.

It was clear when you arrived that it wasn’t lived in. With it being practically hidden away in the woods, the trail to it covered with the thick layer of snow, it was safe to guess no one had been here in a long time. So you had no problem making it your own… as much as you could anyway.

Resources were procured by you, along with a few things to make the space a little more homey. Natasha teased you for the fluffy blankets and pillows you bought, reminding you that you’d have to leave it all behind eventually but you didn’t care.

“For the first time since we met, we’re living together, just the two of us,” you’d said,“ I plan to make the most of it.” And you did.

Every morning, Natasha was woken up with feather light kisses on her face and a tray with breakfast and coffee on it. Throughout the day you would snuggle together on the couch, you reading a book and her pouring over documents for your next move or listening to you read. When night fell, you would light the fireplace and have dinner, ending it with her in your arms.

Sure, the threat of Ross searching for you and finding you was ever present, but things were near perfect.

Were being the key word.

Today started like all the others: breakfast in bed, an intimate but innocent shower shared with your love, and the reading of a book you like. Things took a turn around 4 in the afternoon.

A blizzard warning was given and the snow started earlier in the day. You were prepared: the heat on, supplies stocked, and coffee and cocoa on stand by, plus a large pile of firewood. A few feet of snow had blanketed the surrounding area and with the harsh weather came the shutting off of your power.

The cold didn’t hit instantly. With the heat no longer on, the freezing temperatures from outside slowly crept in.

You did what you could to fight it off: lighting the fireplace, making hot beverages, throwing on some layers, and preparing some blankets. It didn’t prove to be enough though.

The negative 6 degree weather outside took the cabin from a toasty 80 degrees to a chilling 18.

Clad in three layers of clothes: thermal underclothes, thick flannel pants and a long sleeve, plus a hoodie with a hat and gloves, you found yourself still cold. So you burrowed under three of the thickest blankets in the cabin and huddled up by the fire.

All of that and Natasha could still hear your teeth chattering from her spot on the nearby chair.

The redhead claimed to be fine, only in some jeans and one of your thick hoodies, a thin blanket tossed over her shoulders.“ I’m Russian, I don’t get cold,” she said when you offered her sanctuary in your cocoon.

You decided she could go shove her Russian pride and instead focused on not losing any limbs. But you were failing. Or at least it felt like it.

“Holy fuck!” You exclaim into the fairly quiet room. The fire was crackling and the wind was howling but no other sounds could be heard.“ How l-long is this b-blizzard g-gonna last?”

Natasha snorts out a chuckle, eyebrow quirked as she watches you shuffle ever closer to the fire.

With all the fabric you have wrapped around your person, she’s been a little leary about how close you are to the open flames.

“Till tomorrow.” She answers your very rhetorical question.

You send her a glare over your shoulder that further amuses her.

Admittedly though, not much. She doesn’t like that you seem to be suffering so greatly.

Ever since you agreed to go on the run with her, stating that her love is all you needed, she’s been more than adamant on keeping you safe and happy. Feeling like she’s failing at that right now, has her smirk falling and her brain running through solutions.

She comes up with a few but lingers on one that could be effective and fun for both of you.

“You know,” she pipes up after a moment of silence,“ the human body is about 98 degrees on average,” she mumbles, slipping onto the floor with you,“ I’m sure skin on skin contact will warm you up faster than those blankets.”

You scoff, eyes rolling.“ Did you just pull that little fact out of your ass?” You grumble, highly irritated by the cold.

She shakes her head.“ No. I just remembered it. You’d get a lot warmer if you let me hold you. All those blankets and clothes you have on just end up taking on the chill of the room.” Her shoulders shrug, green eyes watching you.

Huffing you tell her,“ you’re just saying that cause you wanna touch me.” You then bury half your face back into the blanket, noting that it is indeed a little chilled.

“What?” Her tone turns incredulous.“ Detka, your warmth is very important to me. I mean, you’re here, cold and suffering, because of me.” She pouts a little.

Looking up with a narrowed gaze, you see the sincerity in her green eyes and the doubt of her true intentions crumbles.

“I- if you think it’ll help we can give it a shot.” You speak softly, pushing the cocoon of blankets off your body.

With a cute smile, Natasha starts to pull her clothes off until she’s left in her black sports bra and matching cotton panties. You can’t help that your eyes roam over her toned stomach and long legs. Your girlfriend is hot and, even through the chattering of your teeth and shivering of your body, you can admit that.

Following suit, you pull off the layers of clothes you’d put on, leaving yourself in nothing but underwear.

Then the two of you scoot a little closer to the fire, Natasha pushing into your side, arms wrapping around you in place of the blankets as she pulls you into her body.

It’s a near instant relief. The warmth of her body surrounds you, gradually staving off the cold atmosphere. That warmth increases as her hands begin rubbing up and down your arms and over your back.

You melt into her, burying your face against her neck as you return her embrace, arms and legs wrapped around her frame.

Her ministrations continue, lulling you into a false sense of relaxation. However, the subtle trail of her hands down your back and over your ass pulls the relaxation away. The instant her fingers slip under the sides of your panties and her hands begin to knead your cheeks your entire body is keyed up.

“Tasha,” you mumble against her neck, hands squeezing her waist.

“Yes detka?” Her oh so innocent tone responds.

“What’re you doing?”

Shifting, she lowers her head and presses a kiss on your shoulder.“ I’m keeping you warm, as promised.”

The hands on your ass squeeze, then run up your sides where she allows her thumbs to slip under your bra to brush the sides of your breasts.

Every move is slow and equally deliberate. Her hands work your body in a familiar fashion, further riling you up with each drag of her fingers along your skin.

Your frustration at being cold fades into one of being incredibly turned on. The wet heat between your legs only increases, as does the desire in the pit of your stomach.

“Tasha.” You say again, this time in a much breathier, needier tone.

She pulls her lips away from your newly marked skin to look at you properly. Upon finding the darkened look in your eyes, flushed skin, and heaving chest, she couldn’t help but smirk.

In truth, she’d barely touched you. Her fingers barely grazed your most intimate parts, instead focused on heavy, intentional touches to every other part of skin.

“If you don’t touch me, I’m gonna go handle it myself and leave you to sleep on the cold hard floor by yourself.”

“But I am touching you, dorogoy.” The words roll off her tongue teasingly and you legitimately huff.

Eyebrows furrowed, nose flaring, you push away from the woman. Cold be damned, you’re much more interested in releasing the pent up feeling in your abdomen.

You wouldn’t admit it but Natasha's actions have certainly left you heated all over.

The redhead watches with rapt attention as you lay back, your hands falling to the places you had just asked her to touch. Green eyes darken further as the fingers of one hand start to tweak your nipples, coaxing them into perfect little peaks, all while your other hand slips between your spread thighs.

Arousal soaks the fabric of your panties and as you touch yourself it begins to coat your thighs. Natasha hadn’t realized how much her touch had affected you, not the full extent anyway.

It's only when you let out a breathy moan that she snaps into action. A hand pushes yours away then pulls your underwear off in one swift move.

Not a second of hesitation is present as the redhead dives in. Her tongue glides between your puffy, glistening folds and she groans against you.

You slip a hand into her hair, lightly fisting as your back arches off the ground. You’re already an absolute wreck, that feeling intensifying as her tongue dips inside you, curling just so.

When your leg hooks around her shoulder, heel pressing into her back to drive her further into you, she smirks. Deft fingers then trail up your leg, ghosting over your slick coated thighs before they tease at your sopping hole.

“Look at me, detka.” Natasha commands, head lifting.

A near annoyed sigh escapes you as you follow her instructions, eyes landing on her chin that glistens from your essence. The words you meant to speak die on your tongue, replaced by a wanton moan as she effortlessly slips her fingers into you.

The fullness they offer is an instant but brief relief that has you shuddering in her hold and Natasha revels in the way your eyes roll back in your head, teeth clamping down your lip.

“Please, Tash,” you beg desperately. The burning feeling in your abdomen was nearing its peak but you needed-“ more. Need more, baby.”

At your words, she ducks her head back down and immediately wraps her lips around your clit. She sucks hard once, twice, then flicks her tongue over the bundle of nerves in time with the curl of her fingers and it sends you straight over the edge.

You cum with a scream of her name, heel digging into her back further as pleasure ripples over your body.

Natasha can’t help but to grip your thighs as they quake beside her head, hips canting up to ride out your orgasm. The taste of you bursts across her tongue and she can’t help but lap up every drop, retracting her fingers so she can shove her tongue into the source of the flavor.

As her ministrations continue, you’re tipped over the edge again, flying head first into a second orgasm. But she refuses to let up, drinking from you like a woman dying of thirst. While her tongue on you had previously felt amazing, the faintly familiar shift from pleasure to pain becomes present and you tiredly wiggle away from her.

Taking the nonverbal cue, she pulls away, licking you from her lips and sitting up on her knees. The pride she already held swells as she takes in the visual result of her actions: your thighs shaking, chest heaving, tits lightly bouncing with each quake of your body.

Her hands take a soothing approach as you come down, softly trailing up and down your legs then up your abdomen to softly squeeze your tits.“ You okay, moya lyubov?”

“Yup,” you hum with a blissfully tired smile on your lips.“ Nearly perfect.”

“Nearly huh?” She quirks a brow, leaning over you to be in your line of sight.“ What do I have to do to lose that nearly?” Leaning down, she presses lingering kisses on your neck.

Hands landing on her hips, you lean up to her ear, running your tongue over the shell of it before whispering,“ come ride my face.”

She damn near snaps her head away from you, eyebrows raised into her hairline.“ Really?” There’s a giddy sparkle in her eyes, accompanied by dilated pupils.

You’re both very well aware of how much Natasha loves riding your face. Not only does she love having your mouth on her, she also loves seeing and feeling you underneath her, able to see your expression as you taste and take her.

A nod is your simple confirmation.“ Let me taste you, baby.” Your hands shift up to the curve of her ass, pulling to urge her forward.“ And those pretty thighs of yours will keep me plenty warm.”

Needing no further encouragement, the ex-assassin stands and rids herself of her underwear. When her panties hit the ground beside you, you notice that they’re much like yours had been, soaked through from her arousal and that makes you even more eager to taste her.

She lowers herself onto her knees, both either side of you as her pussy hovers over you. You lick your lips in a fashion she’s seen plenty of times before, often when your favorite meal is placed in front of you, and pleasure spikes her core.

Your soft, scarred hands find her thighs and you pull her down onto your face with no resistance from her.

Instantly your senses are flooded by Natasha. Sight, smell, touch, taste, and hearing, all at once.

She feels soft, even the raised skin from her battle scars are soft under your fingertips. She smells incredible and the second your tongue runs between her puffy pussy lips you can say the same about her taste. And her moans, her sweet, sinful moans, practically bounce off the walls.

You know, just from the way her slick transfers from her thighs to your cheeks, that she’s very much riled up. You also know that after she’s gone down on you that it doesn’t take much to get her to the edge and over. Still, you put in maximum effort.

Hands grip her thighs with near bruising force as you slip your tongue inside her, tasting every drop of her sweetness before pulling out so you can wrap your lips around her bundle of nerves.

While she loves the hold you have on her, two thoughts enter her mind simultaneously, leading to her taking your hands from her thighs and guiding them to her tits. She squeezes your hands which in turn squeeze her tits as she then begins to ride your face, as asked.

Her hips start a rhythm, pussy grinding on your mouth with each roll. She tosses her head back, moaning your name in a heavenly tone.“ Flatten your tongue, detka.” She instructs and who are you not to listen.

The new sensation sends her reeling and her hips stutter as the first sign of her impending orgasm. She doubles her efforts and you do too, now pinching and pulling on her nipples as she grinds faster.

The stimulation of both pleasure points is her undoing. If not for your steadying hands to keep her upright, she would’ve fallen face first into the ground as her eyes fell shut and her limbs practically went limp.

Using the majority of your strength, you slide Natasha down your body until her legs are on either side of you, then you guide her head to rest on your chest.

“I got you, baby.” You assure her, eliciting her to tiredly wrap her arms around your form, snuggling closer to you.

A comfortable silence settles around you two. The crackling of the fire and howling of the wind no longer irritates you, instead it facilitates the overall vibe of the moment.

Despite the layer of sweat on your heated bodies, you pull one of the blankets up over you to stave off the cold that will inevitably return.

When you’re completely calmed and Natasha’s breathing has evened out, her mind and body equally relaxed given the gentle strokes of your fingers up and down her spine, you teasingly speak,“ I knew you were just being horny.”

“True,” she mumbles after giggling,“ but it worked didn’t it?”

“I-” your words fail you as it’s really quite obvious she was right.“ Oh shut up, Romanoff.” You emphasize with a poke to her side which, in her unguarded state, causes her to jerk into you and let out an adorable laugh.

She whacks your chest, then softly kisses it.“ Really though, thank you for sticking with me. I know this situation is far from ideal,” her voice trails off before she adds,“ and far from our dream.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Tash.” Curling a finger under her chin, you tilt her chin up to catch her gaze.“ Being with you will always make me the happiest person in the world, no matter our circumstances. And I know this won’t last forever. In no time we’ll be living our dream. Just gotta get through the hard parts first.”

Her head shakes as she smiles.“ I love you so goddamn much, Y/n.”

“Not as much as I love you, Natasha.”

After a sweet kiss, you cuddle back up together, holding each other tight. In her arms, surrounded by her warmth and love, the sound of the howling wind fades into nothing as you fall into a peaceful slumber.

* * * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @blackxwidowsxwife @b-5by5 @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout @alotofpockets @storiesofsvu

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #reader insert #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023

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bitchlessdino · 3 months

Text

Would you like a receipt? Pt. 1

In Valentines collaboration with @svthub hosted by my wifey @wongyuseokie, pt 2 out now! Pairing: Childhood bf!junhui x working class gn!reader Genre: fluff, slight angst, slice of life Word count: 2.9k tags: second chances, exes to ???, childhood friend/boyfriend!junhui, spontaneous dates, misunderstandings, smut in part 2!!! Summary: Coming across a grade school ex-boyfriend while you worked a shitty seasonal job around Valentines was not in your 2024 bingo card. author note: to sweet mio at @skyechild i apologize in advance for making you wait for the second half. I promise it'll be worth the wait. but yes! i am your one and only cupid. I hope you enjoy what i have so far. And to answer your ask, idk if i have a favorite thing about myself? Maybe it's the constant desire to look for new things to improve on or my attitude in trying new things? What i look for other people is pretty simple tho. That would be ease. I'd like if someone felt comfortable with me and vice versa. if i can make someone's day by making them laugh or just existing then that would be great. happy valentines day mio! From yours Truly, Cupid💘

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic

Valentine's Day has always been a bit of a hit or miss for you. The last time you remember eagerly anticipating the holiday was back in high school. Since then, the allure of celebrating love and romance seemed to fade away, as you realized that not everything in the world is adorned in shades of pink and red. Valentine's Day became a luxury, a whimsical indulgence that felt distant and impractical for someone navigating a world that often left little room for such extravagances. Life, for you, was a series of tasks, responsibilities, and the constant juggling act of making ends meet.

From the time you were in high school, you entered the realm of adulthood, where dreams sometimes took a backseat to the more immediate needs of providing for your family. The dreams you put on hold lingered in the recesses of your mind, awaiting their turn to be fulfilled. Working tirelessly, you made sacrifices, dedicating yourself to a job that demanded your energy and time. Despite the challenges, you pressed on, ensuring the well-being of your family, who toiled alongside you, if not even harder.

Now, as an adult working a part-time job that offers a slightly better paycheck than your previous one, you’ve grown used to the matter. While the financial gains may not be monumental, every improvement counts, especially when compared to the downfalls of your previous workplace.

Amidst the whirlwind of your daily hustle, Valentine's Day transforms into a distant echo of the past–a time when celebrations were carefree and seemingly attainable. However, for you, navigating the world feels akin to maneuvering on an almost empty tank. In this moment, mere existence becomes a means to sustain yourself.

“Is this a gift? If so, would you like it to be gift-wrapped for you?”

The middle-aged man raises an eyebrow, smacking that mint gum that doesn’t seem to mask his nicotine-coated breath. “Is it extra?”

“It’s two dollars extra.”

Usually, you’d really sell the idea that the highest premium quality wrapping paper would be used to then be topped off with a satin ribbon that truly pulls it all together, but for such a customer, you know you’d be wasting your breath.

He scoffs, snatching the bag off the counter. “Are you trying to scam me? Fuck that shit.”

You let a sigh of relief slip past your lips the moment he made his way out the sliding door, muttering to yourself about the smell. You reach down for your Powerade hidden on a bottom shelf of the counter you stand behind, hoping this supposed ‘power’ would relinquish itself to you for another long shift.

It’s the day before Valentine's Day, which means the rush has become a regular occurrence since about a week ago. The store is bursting with vibrant displays of flowers, stuffed animals clutching oversized lollipops, and decadent heart-shaped boxes of chocolates. Not such a bad gig if you look at it.

However, the true predicament lies in the presence of aggressive customers, drawn to discounts like magnets. They're all about grabbing anything and everything that's on sale, making things more complicated than they need to be. It's like they're trying to see how far they can push things and make your day even crazier. Dealing with them adds an extra layer of chaos to the already busy scene as if you haven’t lost faith in humanity enough.

“I bought this yesterday and it’s DIGUSTING! I want a full refund and extra compensation for my time and taste buds being wasted on this disgusting excuse of a candy.”

Popping open the box revealed a sorry sight–almost half the candies were missing as if they'd gone on a little taste adventure without an invite. The poor box looked like it had been through a candy apocalypse, so messed up that I couldn't even be sure if it originally belonged to our store.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry you're dissatisfied with our products. However, because the box is so damaged and half of the contents have been consumed we cannot accept this return,” you respond in your most polite service voice.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Where the hell is your manager? The customer is always right!”

At last, a wave of relief crashes over you like a superhero arriving just in the nick of time during closing hours. The once bustling crowd has dwindled, allowing you to begin the task of rearranging items and securing the cash register, signaling the imminent conclusion of yet another busy day.

Just when you're on the verge of clocking out and calling it a day, a sudden interruption unfolds at the entrance. A lone figure materializes outside, softly tapping on the glass as if pleading to be granted entry.

"Please," his voice is all muffled through the glass, "I know you're about to close, but pretty please! I just need to grab something real quick. I already know exactly what I need!"

It’s not every day you see a man of his looks and caliber beg to be given access to a candy store as if he were a determined child. There's this undeniable air of urgency about him–as if he’d die if we didn’t get what he needed–but it doesn't overshadow his perfectly proportioned features that illuminate under the evening street lights. Ultimately, you decide to approach the door, swiftly undoing the top lock of the door and allowing him inside.

He expresses his gratitude with a grateful clasp of his hands, swiftly navigating through the inventory to grab what he urgently needs. Returning to the counter, you initiate the process of unraveling the closing procedures, all the while fervently hoping that no one else decides to join the stranger in last minute browsing.

"Sorry," he apologizes as he drops his items on the counter: several heart-shaped boxes and a bear clutching a mini Mylar balloon that shouts 'I love you,' with a small box of chocolates in its other paw. A classic and popular choice.

“That’s a lot of chocolate. Big family?”

He shakes his head, "Nah, these are for a company thing. I've been busting my butt for weeks, and the one simple task I get, I can't even manage it until the last minute."

"Got it. And the bear? Picking up a last-minute surprise for your girlfriend too?"

A slightly offended look crosses his face. "Oh, if I had a girlfriend, I’d do way more than make up my tardiness with a teddy bear.” He holds the fluffy creature in his hand, “This is just for my mom. So, if you ever spot a lady with my face and long hair, please, keep it on the down-low."

You chuckle softly, bagging up his purchases. "I'll remember that. Cash or credit?"

He extends his hand, revealing his credit card with his full name on display. As you sound out the name in your head, it strikes you as unique yet oddly familiar. You run the card through the machine, unaware that the customer is squinting at you, also trying to place where he might know you from.

"Hey, have we met before? You seem really familiar," he questions.

"Uh, not sure, but your name does ring a bell," you reply as you hand the card back. "Haven't come across too many Wen Junhuis."

"Wait, how do you know my name?" he questions.

"Well, it's on your credit card, sir," You respond with straightforward precision.

"True, but no one has picked it up as quickly and accurately as you did. Maybe we do know each other."

You shrug. "Maybe so. I think the last time I heard a name like that was back in elementary school. A classmate maybe."

"Hold on, you couldn't be Y/n, right?" he questions, his eyes widening with realization.

You take a brief pause to grasp the implication, acknowledging it with a nod. "Been a long time coming, hasn't it?"

His smile widened across his cheeks, evoking memories of a similar grin on a boy more than half his age. "Yeah. Well, I be damned. I'm surprised you remember my name."

"It's pretty distinctive; I'm surprised you remember mine."

He scoffs. "You are a core memory, thank you very much. One of the nicest and coolest people in our grade. God, remember our first Valentines?"

"Yes," you softly chuckle, the memories of childhood innocence flooding back. "I begged my mom to get these really nice scented Valentine cards to give to the class."

"And you gave me the lemon one because I love lemons, and I gave you one of the hologram cards of a cat that smiles when you flip it on its side."

"I was so excited to show my sister, and I just know she was so jealous."

"Yeah, where did the time go?" he sighs, his smile turning wistful on his lips.

You shake your head, still smiling from the unexpected trip down memory lane, and finally, hand off his gifts back to him. "Would you like a receipt?"

"No, I'm good. So,” He leans over the counter curiously, “What are you doing this Valentine's?"

"Working the day. I'll probably just grab takeout for dinner and head home. You?"

"It's a workday,” he says proceeding to grab his things. “So most of the day is spent in the office. But, I'm free the rest of the evening…would it be weird if I asked you out for Valentine's Day?" he nervously proposes.

You raise an eyebrow, slightly taken aback but intrigued. "You want me to be your Valentine?"

"Couldn't hurt," he nonchalantly shrugged, a wry grin playing on his lips. Then, as if a light bulb flickered to life above his head, an idea dawned on him, sparking mischief in his eyes.

"Unless you've got a 200-pound, all-muscle boyfriend ready to beat my ass," he quips, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. The words linger in the air, forming a playful challenge and a subtle admission that, just maybe, he wasn't entirely impervious to consequences.

It harks back to a past altercation, one of those rare 'couple quarrels' you had. The promise was made in jest—that you'd leave him if he ever pulled on your hair again, and he'd have to face a burly 200-pound muscle man. Though uttered in humor with no evidence of said muscle man, it struck a chord of genuine concern in his little boy heart, and he kept that promise until the end of your relationship. The memory lingered, manifesting now in an unmistakable charm, a blend of audacity, bravado, and humor that fills the air with laughter and unadulterated ease.

You chuckle. “Lucikly, I don’t, but I don’t know you. Who knows what kind of person you, or I, have become in the last fifteen or so years? Maybe I'm a bitch.”

"Well, as long as there’s no one else in the picture, I see no problem. Bitch all you want to me." he grins.

Your expression shifts into a playful contemplation, "Why me? I'm pretty sure there are plenty of people out there dying for a dinner date with you. I mean, the last thing we shared was a juice box."

"Maybe I'm hoping to reignite an old spark. If I recall our MASH game correctly, we were supposed to be living in a shack with 20 kids, a dog, and daily commutes on a scooter," Junhui retorts.

"Thank goodness that scenario never played out, but, um, I'm not sure dinner is a good idea."

As the banter unfolds, you realize it's been an eternity since you've experienced the thrill of a proper date. The mere thought of dressing up, the nervous excitement before meeting someone, and the shared laughter over a romantic meal become fragments of a distant past, like pages in a cherished novel stored away on a forgotten shelf.

“We never know unless we try, right?” He says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“You always hit on exes that you stumble upon on a random Tuesday?”

“Only the pretty ones.” Junhui grins, swiftly extracting a candy box from the bag. With a quick scribble on the side, he hands it to you. “If you change your mind. Happy Valentine's Day.”

You roll your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you accept the candy. “Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Jun.”

You depart with a box of candy in hand when your shift ends, Junhui's number hastily scribbled on the top, the ink still fresh as that abrupt encounter. As you make your way home, the city lights shimmering in the distance, you find your thoughts circling back to his audacious proposition.

The weight of the candy box seems to mirror the gravity of the decision before you. The city streets, now quieter in the late evening, echo with dilemma of pursuing his offer. You can't deny the charm that lingers in the air—a mix of confusion, nostalgia, and an unexpected connection. The mere act of considering his offer adds a layer of excitement to the night, anticipation for plans that have been yet set in motion.

As you unlock the door to your apartment, the scent of familiarity welcomes you warmly for once, likely due to the refreshing end of your night. You set the candy aside–already having memorized Junhui's number–and with a decisive tap, you enter his number into your phone. The screen lights up with his name, a digital beacon inviting you to venture into uncharted territory. As you send a quick message, the city outside continues its gentle hum, and you can't help but feel giddy. You’re eleven all over again.

The memory of Junhui's charismatic grin lingers in your mind, a subtle tug at the edges of your thoughts the moment you hit send, and you throw the phone aside, letting yourself get rid of the electrifying nerves running through your body. When you hear the notification going off–Junhui’s name on display–you realize there’s no going back.

The following day, you’re excited about living for once. Delighted to have something to look forward to after work, you board today's bus with a genuine smile on your face, a subtle change that doesn't escape the notice of the bus drivers, who have grown accustomed to your early presence by now.

As the bus carries you through the familiar townscape, you can't help but revel in the subtle shift in the air. The usual humdrum of daily life seems to have given way to a vibrant undercurrent of anticipation for the holiday. The ordinary scenes outside the window take on a slightly pink hue, and you find yourself savoring the details that often go unnoticed illuminated with festive decor.

Work hours also pass with a newfound energy, and the anticipation for the evening grows with each passing minute, even with the rambunctious customers buying more gifts just in the nick of time. The mundane tasks of the day become a mere backdrop to the vibrant scene that awaits you once the clock strikes the end of the workday.

Today, the world outside the candy store seems to radiate brighter than any other day has. The street lights gradually flickering on, usually just a backdrop to your daily grind, now beckon with a promise of surprises. As the day unfolds, you find yourself counting down the hours until your appointment time arrives and you quickly change into your Valentine's date attire, anticipating Junhui's reappearance.

Time moves forward—one hour, two hours, three hours. Doubts begin to creep in. Were you merely indulging in wishful thinking at this point?

The rose-tinted glasses, which once painted the day with a hopeful hue, must have started to expire. Now, a subtle gray takes over, bringing you back to the stark reality of the passing moments. The initial excitement begins to wane, replaced by a tinge of disappointment and a hint of uncertainty.

As the clock ticks away, doubts and questions swirl in your mind like a gathering storm. The vibrant anticipation that once filled the air begins to dissipate, leaving behind a quiet unease.

You glance at your reflection in the mirror, the Valentine's date attire now carrying a touch of wistfulness. The city outside, once alive with the promise of a special evening, now takes on a different tone. The street lights, initially beacons of excitement, cast shadows that dance with anxiety and unease. The imminent arrival of buses amplifies a fleeting thought–maybe, just maybe, you can still catch it if you run.

Taking a leap of faith, you hastily gather your belongings and make your way to the bus station, adhering to your initial plan—opting for takeout in the solitude of home, if restaurants are still an option at this hour. Amidst the uncertainty, your phone succumbs to the lack of power, its screen plunged into darkness, mirroring the tone of your night.

The familiarity of home brings no comfort, only disheartenment. You set aside the dinner you had envisioned for tonight, plugging in your phone to replenish its drained battery, intentionally avoiding any further interaction with the outside world for the remainder of the night.

When your phone finally regains its power, messages burst to life in an instant, one particular message standing out, beckoning attention. That is, of course, if you were still around to witness it.

Junhui: I’m so sorry! You will not believe the day I had. My office was bombarding me all day with extra work and i only left now. Please tell me its not too late.

P.S. and here's that valentine i wanted to give to you <3 i hope you like it as much as this fic so far

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