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sagechanoafterdark · 2 months

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Shoot Your Shot, Cupid

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Word Count: 3,770 Warnings: mature language, unbeata'd, soft Bucky, lets assume Sam set him up for this one, female coded reader, happy ending because we all deserve it, TIME SKIIIIIP, best friend with good intentions that shows up for one job and then disappears, speed dating, one obnoxious man, all the soft feelings.

Hello Kittens, and Happy Valentine's Day. It's been a while since I wrote... well anything and I was working on this for a couple of months but I think it's come all together now. Hope you enjoy it!

This couldn’t get much worse.

Tricked by your best friend.

Nay, betrayed.

By someone you implicitly trusted.

There would be no forgiving this.

Never, not ever.

The dinner and drinks invitation a few days before the start of February was met with trepidation on your part. All Christmas season you’d feigned interest as Mellony, your best friend, thrust every single co-worker, neighbor, and wait staff at you to find you someone to share the holiday with.

You couldn’t blame her. After all, Mellony was blissfully happy with her fiancée and only wanted the same for you.

All that you could forgive.

But this?

This was a complete and utter betrayal.

A deep and unimpressed frown marred your face as Mellony took the sticky name tag off the table with her perfectly manicured nails. Peeling the back with an ear-to-ear grin and pressed it against your chest. “There,” she exclaimed with joy, lacing her fingers together. “Now you’re all set.”

Looking down at the beautifully scrawled letters framed by little hearts you couldn’t help but curl your lip and whine, “Mel, you promised.”

The blond snorted and rolled her enormous puppy dog eyes, “I never promised anything.” Looping her arm through yours she practically began to drag you through the convention center doors and past the sign that sealed your fate.

Cupids Bow Speed Dating Event.

“Yes, you did,” you reaffirmed. Glancing around the room packed full of men and women in a combination of sweaters, suits, and cocktail dresses. “You promised not to try and set me up with anyone again.”

“This is my speed dating event. It doesn’t count.”

“I can assure you it does.”

“Nooooo,” she practically sang, turning around on her heel with that adorable mischievous smile of hers. “I promised that I wouldn’t set you up with anyone I knew. Everyone here was vetted by my team. I don't know any of these people.”

Grumbling she began tugging you towards the stage as intro music began to play softly from the DJ booth. Mellony paused, gripping your hand tight and looking down at you as the DJ introduced her, “Please, stay? I just want you to find someone.”

“Mel,” you hissed with disapproval. “I don’t need to find someone.”

Whether or not she heard you was unclear as the music swelled and Mellony put on her famous razzle dazzle smile and waved at everyone as she took the microphone and the presentation began. Your eyes swung to the crowd of people, more than three dozen people silhouetted against the stage lights and it made you shiver.

This was going to be a disaster.

Twenty minutes later your mind was glazed over with the audacity of men.

With every new ding of the bell, you found yourself becoming more annoyed. The match-making event progressed easily. People were divided into groups based on results from a questionnaire, something you distinctly remember Mel presenting to you as a fun Cosmo quiz, while one group remained seated the others rotated around the room.

By some stroke of luck, you were one of the people destined to sit. But that also meant that total strangers would be coming to your table to chat with you.

In all your years of singledom, you’d thought you’d heard it all. Too fat. Too loud. Too smart. Too opinionated. Those were old hat by now, and you weren’t immune to the bitter words from unimportant people.

“I suppose you’re an attractive woman,” the suit across from you said thoughtfully. His eyes never met yours, instead looking around the room likely for the next victim of his charm. “But I’m not really into your hair color. How would you feel about dying it?”

The question hung in the air as you waited for the man to look back at you. When his beady eyes returned to your face you couldn’t hide the disbelief, waving your hand in the air with an icy finality, “Absolutely not. You can go.”

He didn’t wait. Standing so quickly the chair scraped against the floor as he haughtily walked towards the bar. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you pulled out your phone and began to scroll social media waiting for the next bell in fifteen minutes.

Not the wildest thing you’d ever heard, but the gall of some people astounded even you sometimes. This also wasn’t the first event you’d been to that Mel had put on, you’d come to one or two as she’d begun her match-making service so you knew the ins and outs pretty well. But getting the same questions over and over was getting old fast.

What do you do for a living?

Where are you from?

What’s your family like?

What’s your perfect date idea?

BOR-ING!

Just once you’d like someone to ask you a real question, something thoughtful instead of the surface questions you’d find on social media.

You couldn’t believe you wore your favorite dress for this nonsense.

The bell dinged once again and the shadow of a new man sat in front of you.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you said not looking up from the device in your hand.

“Come here often?”

“To a dating event? No,” the words were flowing out of your mouth easily. Canned responses for canned questions.

There was a heavy pause, “You seem bored.”

“That’s because I am.”

A muted scoff came from the other side of the table, “What would make it more interesting then?”

A long sigh escaped you as you continued scrolling on your phone, “If someone would ask me a question of substance, maybe I would give them a chance for conversation.”

Again a long stretching silence from the other side and you had to resist rolling your eyes.

“Alright,” he rumbled, leaning back against his chair. “Then what’s one gift you always wish you’d gotten, but never did?”

That had your thumb pausing on the endless scrolling you were doing. Finally, your gaze flicked up and your brain stopped working for a brief moment as you took in the disgustingly attractive man sitting your opposite.

Coffee color hair, and a chiseled jaw dotted with a five o’clock shadow would be enough to make even the most choosy of a woman’s breath catch. He was wearing a bulky leather jacket in a building that was pushing 80 degrees, which was odd but not overly strange.

But oddly enough you felt yourself getting drawn in. Not by his cheekbones, the cut of his jaw, the dimple in his chin, or even the semi-scowl he wore.

No, it was his eyes. Bright blue soulful eyes, that sparkled a little as he sat across the table from you. Eyes that told a story all their own and drew you out of your scrolling for the first time that night.

Pursing your lips slightly you thought, “Hmm, I’d have to say it’s a puppy.”

His eyebrow arched slightly, clearly surprised by your answer, “A puppy?”

“Sure,” you said with a slight shrug. “A puppy is something I’ve always wanted but never gotten as a gift from anyone other than myself.”

“What kind of puppy?”

“Oh I don’t have a preferred breed,” you informed, tilting your head a little at the odd conversation. “But as a child, it was what I asked for every year as a present. But I never got one.”

His lips turned up in a half smile and you thought you were going to melt in your seat, “Asking for one every year and not getting one, sounds a little disappointing. Was that just a Christmas thing?”

“Nah,” you laughed a little, fingers picking at a little piece of lint on the edge of your dress. “Christmas, birthdays, Easter didn’t matter. If gifts were being given, it was at the top of my list. Every year I’d be running to the tree and picking up presents, looking for one big enough. It’s a running joke with my friends that I’d marry the first man to give me a puppy for Christmas.”

A brisk laugh escaped him, his lips pulled into a charming smile that had nervous butterflies leap up in your chest. “A puppy for Christmas,” he rumbled thoughtfully. “I’ll have to remember that.”

The response made goosebumps prickle along your skin and you held back a shiver, wetting your suddenly dry lips, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s a gift you always wanted but didn’t get,” you paused briefly a coy smile stretching your lips.

His smile turned into a smirk as he once again leaned back in his chair, blue eyes darting back and forth over your face as he thought about it. It was going well, your impish smile growing along with his own. That is until his smile began to fall, bright blue gaze darting a little more frantically over your face before he licked his lips and an unexpected tremor sounded in his voice, “I think, I think it was a sled.”

“A sled,” you asked, leaning forward a little in intrigue. “Like a big plastic one with the handles? Oh no, I got it you’re definitely an inflatable snow tube kind of guy.”

A balk of laughter sounded from him, making hidden laugh lines appear at the corner of his eyes as they brightened with your playful banter. “Nah,” he exclaimed, waving a hand. “More like a wood and metal one. It had bright red skis and a wooden seat top. That sled was all I wanted as a kid.”

An amused giggle slipped from you, “I had a wagon kind of like that as a kid, it was a radio flyer.”

His fingers snapped as he pointed at you with a little bit of excitement, “That’s it! A Radio Flyer sled, with a rope handle and foot steering bar. Though I don’t think I’d ever get one now. I’m a little too old to go sledding down a hill.”

“Age is all about perspective.”

He snorted, “Tell that to my driver's license.”

Genuine laughter bubbled up from inside of you as you leaned forward in your seat, a teasing retort on your lips. Before you could speak, Mellony rang her little handbell and people began to switch places again. But your blue-eyed stranger lingered at your table.

“Talk to you again?”

He sounded, hopeful. “Yeah,” you croaked out pathetically. “Talk to you again.”

You watched as he stood from your table and made his way across the room to his next table while another man took his place at your own. A feeling of disappointment swelled as you lost sight of him in the crowd of people, the feeling intensifying as this new man briefly introduced themselves before launching into a long Tinder-level introduction.

Two more men sat at your table, barely holding your interest outside of normal pleasantries before Mel rang her handbell in rapid succession. “Alright everyone that’s the first round,” she called from her place at the podium. “We’re going to break for thirty minutes. There are hors d'oeuvres and refreshments at the bar. Please feel free to mingle!”

The room of people began to stand and mill around as an uproar of chatter began. Your eyes picked out a couple of men from your group, pairing up with others and heading to the bar. Cordial smiles turned into pleasant touches and sweetheart eyes as they went.

The Cupids Bow Dating Event was a success and you couldn’t help but feel the swell of pride for your friend.

“Hey, Sourpuss,” Melody greeted, looping her arm through yours. “You having fun yet?”

Your mind drifted back to your blue-eyed stranger, “A little.”

“Well, I don’t know if you know this. But the point of speed dating is to, you know, find a date. I was watching you, and you gotta talk to more than one person,” she sassed.

Your mouth turned down to a frown for a brief moment, “I talked to someone.”

“Oh yeah? What was his name.”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times as you realized quickly you’d never even got Mr. Blue-Eyes name, “Shit.”

“What?”

“I didn’t even get Mr. Blue-Eyes name!”

“It’s Bucky.”

Turning around there stood Mr. Blue-Eyes himself, err… you meant Bucky. There was no doubt your embarrassment showed on your face, but the little nervous laugh that slipped out sealed the deal.

Bucky smiled at you, “That is if it’s me you were talking about?”

Wetting your lips you shifted, suddenly nervous before meeting friendly blue eyes, “Yeah,” you squeaked before clearing your throat. “I mean, yes. I’m sorry I missed your name when we talked.”

He was nodding for a brief moment, his eyes darting over towards the bar before taking a few steps closer to you and leaning down. “There’s a restaurant down the street. They’ve got pretty good sushi. You want to get the hell out of here?”

“Oh, my god yes!” The tips of your ears felt hot as you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole but Bucky didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment. Instead, he offered up his right arm and you looped yours into it without hesitation.

Melody’s brow shot up out of surprise, “B-but that was only the first round! There are still two more.”

“I don’t think we need a round two,” Bucky said, the same charming smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and making his eyes crinkle.

“Yeah,” you laughed, in a teasing tone. “This round just might go to Cupid after all.”

Three years later.

Lights twinkled in the living room of your apartment, it was god awful early and you’d carefully planned today. Christmas day and you’d been waiting for this moment for two years now. Quickly and quietly you snuck out of the bedroom where Bucky lay wrapped up in the blankets and made your way to the front closet.

It was hard being sneaky when your boyfriend was a super spy. But after a lot of careful planning, misdirections, and a lot of help from Sam, you’d managed to do it and Bucky was none the wiser.

Tiptoeing towards the hall closet that Bucky never used you opened the squeaky hinged door in just the way so it made no noise. Reaching blindly into the black of the closet you felt around, past the dozen unused coats, jackets, scarves, and hats your hand met the back of the closet wall. Sliding quietly until your fingers brushed the cold metal you were looking for.

Jackpot.

Fingers wrapped around your prize as you gave a firm but gentle tug. A pristine, adult-sized, bright red and creamy wood seat Flex Flyer sled emerged complete with an enormous red bow.

Stifling a giggle you set it down.

“What are you doing?”

A shriek tore out of your throat as you jumped what felt like twenty feet in the air.

“James Barnes,” you scolded, heart beating a million miles an hour. “What have I said about sneaking up on me?”

“You were being sneaky first,” he said, brows drawn together as he tried to look around you. “What you hiding doll face?”

“Nothing!” You lied, spreading your arms and legs to hide your surprise gift.

It was at that moment you heard the vibration from Bucky’s phone clutched in his hand, the man tried to not look sheepish as he not so covertly pressed the silence button.

Suspicion immediately filled you, “Bucky? What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” He shot back, his brow knits in suspicion.

It was a standoff.

The two of you staring each other down in the dark of the hallway in your matching Christmas pajamas. Someone knocking on the front door startled you both before Bucky cursed under his breath, pointing at you, “Don’t follow me.”

His instruction surprised you as he brushed past you in the small hallway. You scoffed under your breath, “You’re in your PJ’s Buck, how far are you going?”

Bucky paused before going around the corner, “I mean it.” There was another soft but hurried knock and he cursed before disappearing.

A tisk of disapproval escaped you, but urgency filled your movements the second he was out of sight. Hands shaking slightly you hurried, pulling the sled out from the closet with as much silence as you could muster before dashing the Christmas tree. Stuffing the sled behind the tree, a few bulbs swinging back and forth as you fumbled to fluff the crumpled bow on Bucky’s surprise.

A cacophony of hushed grumbles and whispers came from the front door, you could have sworn you heard Sam as the door closed with a thunk and the lock turned. In a matter of seconds Bucky was coming around the corner again, an enormous gold box gripped in his hands affixed with a brilliant glittering green bow.

It was clear that Bucky didn’t see you immediately as he juggled the wobbly box and tried to remain quiet as he did so.

“Whatcha, got there?”

Bucky startled, socked feet skidding to a halt just at the corner of the couch as the box wobbled in his hands again. Frustrated and accusatory blue eyes narrowed, “What are you doing in here?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

“What are you doing in here?”

“You better not be shaking presents.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “I’ll have you know I haven’t shaken a present since I was ten. What’s in the box, Jamie?”

Bucky flinched a little, his one weakness was when you called him Jamie. His shoulders sagged a little as his grip on the box tightened, “This was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Oh I’m surprised,” you said with a laugh. The mantle clock began to ding for the early morning hour. Five AM came so early now. “Do you want to open our gifts now?”

Bucky pursed his lips, body jerking as the box tried to throw itself from his hands. “I think now is best.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the prospect of what the box could contain. But your eyes flitted over to the space behind the tree where you’d stuffed Bucky’s surprise and the anxious feeling grew tenfold as you thought about the question you were going to ask him once he’d seen it.

Clearing his throat Bucky nodded towards the Christmas tree and the traditional present opening space. Dutifully you sat down in the chair, eyes darting over behind the tree to where your gift sat. “Um, mine's not wrapped.”

“That’s alright,” he said, setting the box at your feet as it rattled all on its own now that it was on the floor. “Where is mine and we’ll do them on the count of three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers tapping the edges of your box. “Yours is behind the tree.”

You saw his eyes dart over to the tree and then back down to you, “On three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers poised to rip at the bow on top of the gift. “One.”

“Two,” Bucky echoed, taking a step closer to the tree.

“Three!”

Your fingers began tearing at the bow on top of the gift box as it rattled against the floor. Pushing back the loose gold paper and terrible tape job before, POP!

Two of the most adorable brown eyes you’d ever seen stared up at you. You were stunned for a moment, staring down at the cutest little paws and wet nose you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“OHMYGODAPUPPY!!”

The shrieking sob spilled past your lips as you pulled the squirming pup into your arms, its tiny tongue licking and sniffing all over your face and mouth. Tears spilled from your eyes as the little bundle in your arms wiggled, squirmed, and kissed your face everywhere; its bottom wiggling so much they tumbled out of your arms and into your lap.

“Oh my god,” you blubbered, holding the precious little one to you. “Bucky! He’s so cute. Oh, it’s a she. She’s so cute, James. Oh god! Oh my god, I love her so much. I can't—I can’t believe this! This is real right? Do I get to keep her? Bucky?”

Looking up Bucky was angled away from you, the lights of the Christmas tree gleaming off of his arm as he held onto his new sled. His fingers found the tag as he stared at it in the dim lighting.

He sniffled briefly before he began to read, “Roses are red, violets are blue, do me the—the honor—the honor of spending my life with you?”

Teary blue eyes turned towards you as you held the squirming puppy in your arms. “Doll,” he squeaked out with a sniffle as a few tears began to slip. “You…”

Looking up at him from your seat you reached into the side table drawer pulled out a distinctive black ring box and opened it. Inside, a single simple gold band that had Bucky’s breath catching.

“Will you,” you croaked out, clearing your throat a little more and juggling your new bundle of joy in your arms. “Will you marry me, James Buchanan Barns?”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he lowered the sled to the floor, and then himself. Bucky knelt before you, down on one knee, and reached forward towards the little puppy squirming in your arms. His fingers brushed against a tiny piece of string attached to the bow, you’d missed it but he lifted the dangling object for your inspection. A beautiful golden ring with what had to be the most enormous diamond you’d ever seen.

Your shocked watery gaze met Bucky’s impossibly blue eyes, “Only if you say yes too.”

The puppy leaped down from your lap, content to explore their new apartment as you slid down and onto Bucky’s lap. Arms wrapping around his shoulders and kissing him harder than you ever had before. Warmth blossomed in your chest as Bucky’s lips parted briefly with a light moan, kissing one another with dizzying urgency.

Gasping for air the two of you parted briefly, planting pecking kisses against one another lips.

“Is that a yes,” he husked, his hands sliding up and down your back.

“Yes, it’s a yes, Jamie.”

Grinning up at you, Bucky cradled you against him, “I didn’t know if you’d say yes.”

“Of course I’d say yes,” you whispered, holding onto him tightly. “After all, you did get me that puppy I’ve always wanted.”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he held you tightly and buried his face against your chest, his shoulders shaking in what could only be a relief, “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Blue-Eyes.”

END

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #mcu #TFWS #winter soldier #avengers #bucky barnes #marvel

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goldsbitch · 4 months

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That one Christmas flight

summary: Y/N and Lando Norris are seated next to each other on a long flight. Innocent little Christmas tradition that Y/N does every year brings them just a little too close.

warnings: fluff, one-shot (whops a lie!), meet cute

Christmas. Y/N felt like an alien walking among people. It was impossible to avoid it. It was present in songs, in decoration, in fashion, online and on the news. Everywhere.

It's not like she was a grinch or anything. Nor was it because of some tragic incident causing trauma. Just pure fatigue from all the logistics and travel connected, which most kids of divorced parents faced every year.

Flying from Japan back to England, from her mother to her father, was a chore that seemed unavoidable. Her mother was kind enough to splurge on first class ticket for her, which her fancy Tokio job allowed. Ever since fours years ago, she continued a tradition that was introduced to her by a fellow Christmas traveller - the most stylish sassy French woman, who often spend the holidays on a plane. She would get herself and who ever was sitting next to her a glass of champagne and chat them up. Y/N has never laughed so much in her life like she did when she met this woman - so she took the tradition as her own.

Lando's plan wasn't to be on a flight from Japan to London on the 24th of December. He had so little time with his family and friends that this secret work trip to the Honda factory was really pushing him into staying with McLaren for the following years and not switching to a different team. This whole situation was like fuel for his current headache.

Y/N second guessed her tradition when a super gorgeous looking boy, who seemed to want anything but to be bothered, was sat next to her. She was used to having older people sitting next to her. Anyway, tradition is a tradition, so she eventually got up to order the classic. She nearly turned back at the thought that this guy was giving off some serious "I'm a dick" vibes, he had barely acknowledged her since she sat down. Luckily, she ignored this feeling.

When a glass of champagne appeared before Lando, he was sure it was a mistake.

"Well, to Christmas," his neighbor toasted. While he thought that she was a rather good looking girl, he was in no mood for a fangirl.

"I'm very sorry, um...I'll be happy to take a photo with you or something, but I am not in the best mood for a interaction with a fan."

She gave him a baffled look.

He continued. "Look, I'll be more than happy to sign anything. Or a photo, just as long you keep between un on which flight you saw me."

Y/N put her glass down, this was a first one.

"First of all, sorry for invading your private time. I have this stupid tradition of having a glass with whomever I'm destined to spend this Christmas flight. Guess I was mistaken. Second of all, I have no fucking idea who you are. So, calm down." She downed half of her glass. Of course this stupid year would include an asshole like this. Oh well.

Lando was confused for a moment and immediately after that he felt like an idiot.

"Apologies," he slowly replied, somewhat baffled. "I thought you were a fan and I'm just not in the mood for that." Y/N rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her champagne. "I'm Lando, by the way."

"Is that a stage name?"

"No, " he laghed. "I think it was a random decision of my mom."

"Interesting. Y/N," she introduced herself, without looking at him.

There was a weird tension in the air. Lando was determined to break it. Y/N was currently casually offended.

"Let me get you another one so that we can have a toast."

"Great, getting drunk is also an option. Hate flying sober," she joked.

Another glass was brought by a smiling flight attendant.

"So, how does this work?" Lando asked. Y/N was a person easily annoyed, however as quickly this came it also ended.

"Fine. There are rules, btw."

"Of course there are."

"Ehm, ehm, " she cleared her throat. "So, this tradition was started by Madame Tatanova and from now on, if you find yourself on a plane on 24th or 25th of December, you need to toast with your fellow neighbor passenger and answer the following: why and for how long-"

"I will have to write this down, I have a memory of a dead chicken."

"-I'm not finished! And then you follow up by your biggest regret and one thing nobody knows. The purpose of this is to gain or pass on wisdom and use the opportunity you'd normally miss by blasting up your headphones." She's done this for four times now, still the introduction was missing the "Madame Tatanova magic". Maybe one day.

"Ok..." Lando was not following yet, but he was keen on doing so. She raised her glasses, as did he.

"Cheers, to Christmas flights."

"Cheers, " he replied and they both sipped their champagne. "Wait, I have a question - what would you do if I did not speak English? Or if I was deaf?"

Lando was being his cheeky self and Y/N was not having it. She answered the question with a look.

"Got it! Anyway...what was the question?"

"Why."

"Why? Why is the sky dark or....?"

"Why are you on this plane."

"I'm trying to get to London from Tokio."

"I swear to god, I will ask to be seated somewhere else, Orlando."

"Lando, actually."

"If you say so..."

"Huuh, I'm going back from a work trip. And since you claim not to know me, I can probably tell you more than I should. Um, imagine I am in a band, right? I'm singing for a band and every few years they change their lead singer, one of the two actually, and I'm a the lead singer who might go to a different band now. But it's not clear yet and super secret actually. So, please keep it to yourself." Lando felt like someone who has just discovered speech and this was the first time he was using it. "Does that make any sort of sense?"

"Sort of I think. So you're cheating on your band?"

"Uhh, I'd say checking out options."

"Remind me never to date guys like you," she joked and immediately regretted that. Y/N was not good at flirting and did not want to appear creepy.

Lando passed on this comment, still not sure if he could trust this girl. "So, what about you? Why?"

"The curse of the divorced parents. One lives in London, the other one in Japan and I'm a package they pass each year," she said rather bitterly.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. I get to see mom twice a year and it's all always so planned and predictable. I would kill for spontaneity."

"Take me with you next time, I'm sure she'll be surprised." "Yes, she is a big fan of British guys, that's why she divorced one!"

"Great, happy to follow that route!"

Y/N started to relax a bit. This could be good, actually. "Ok, so now. For long are you staying in London, Lando?"

"Only few weeks. Then our music season starts. "

"Yeah, the one with all the singing, of course."

"Yeeah."

Y/N laughed a bit. He was suprisingly easy to talk to.

"So, how long?"

"A week. Then I'm off to Bologna."

"Uuuh, fancy that!"

"Yeah, I'm studying history there."

"Bologna is the one with the old university?" he asked, pretending he has never heard of that.

"No, not really, they just opened. Last year we did not have chairs, because the shipment got delayed," she replied with a dry tone.

"One does always study better while standing. I believe it was Socrates, who said it."

"Oh, yes. They teach you this at the singing music school?"

"Exactly. We were never allowed to sit."

They continued to chat all the way through the airplane dinner, getting few more glasses of champagne during that. Their laughter was interrupted by a flight attendant, who acted on a complaint from a fellow passenger. They both fell asleep watching a movie. Y/N woke up few times in the night and observed the boy next to her. Knowing this was the best Christmas plane encounter she ever had. Lando woke up as well, feeling strangely happy about the fact she was resting her head on his shoulder.

"Wait." Lando stopped her at the entrance to customs hall and pulled them both behind a column, so that they could not be seem by bystanders.

"Yes?" she turned to him.

"This might be weird, but can I kiss you?" Y/N looked at the boy in a hoodie standing in front of her, cheeky guy suddenly appearing nervous. He was absolutely gorgeous. She hated the fact he was random guy on a plane to London and not to Bologna.

"Yes. Must be midnight somewhere. So it could be like a New Years thing."

"Yeah. Just an airport thing." With that he kissed her. Just two young people having a little moment of silence. His kiss was a light slow brush on the lips. He cupped her cheek and her hand brushed through his curly hair. First kiss usually does not take long. For a person passing by, this would appear like kiss these two shared a thousand times before.

When they eventually parted, it all seemed a bit surreal.

"We never got to the second part of your Christmas interview," Lando commented.

"Well. Let's say that the one thing nobody knows is that I just kissed a random guy from the plane. And that my biggest regret is that we will never see each other again." For the first time, she was this bluntly honest with somebody who had just kissed her for the first time. It felt intoxicating.

Lando smiled. "See, I knew we had something in common."

Lando was usually not so open with his crushes, if he could even put her in that category.

"Don't worry. I won't search for you online or anything. I want to keep the mystery of Lando alive."

He kissed her once more, before they parted.

Their hearts felt a little more heavier than usual on midnight that New Years Eve. Both standing surrounded by their favorite people, yet with the one they would wish to kiss being impossibly far away.

part 2

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@superlegend216

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris angst #meet cute #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #oneshot fanfiction #ln4 x reader #That one Christmas flight

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sapphosclosefriend · 4 months

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- Money, Power, Glory pt 5 -

Pairing: CEO! Silverfox! Natasha Romanoff x Escort! Fem! Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, a little pining??

Summary: your Christmas vacation with Natasha couldn't start off in a better way… Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: top! Natasha x bottom! R, Natasha has a penis, big age gap (N=56, R=24), very brief drinking (N), SMUT, anal play (R receiving), butt plugs (R), anal sex (R receiving)

A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. I already have something in mind for the next part, but after that I still don't know how it will go…anyway, Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and happy holidays!!! As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

To say it was cold was an understatement and soon a part of you regretted getting out of bed, despite the turmoil of emotions that plagued your mind any time you stopped for more than one second and got the chance to let your thoughts run free.

It had been weeks since that one beautiful weekend in Cuba and Natasha’s words still echoed clearly in your head.

“You make me wanna be perfect.”

You didn't care about her being “perfect”, she already was, but the thought of Natasha caring about what you thought of her made you feel special, deep down. You made sure not to bring up the topic if not prompted by her, though. You remembered very clearly the uncertainty in her beautiful eyes as she had said those words and, despite the reassurance you had tried your best to give her once she tried to apologize for her confession, you knew she still wasn't completely confident with the things she felt with you.

After her confession, for some time, asking you to spend more than a couple hours with her, something you had done almost as soon as you got to know each other, had started to feel almost overbearing to Natasha. It was her instinct immediately screaming at her to run away, just like usual, but the deal she had made with herself pushed her to try her best this time around. So she ended up doing what had plagued her mind for hours to no end, she asked you to spend Christmas with her. She knew it wasn't a holiday you particularly liked to spend with anybody, so she hoped there could've been a remote chance of you possibly agreeing to spend it with her.

She honestly didn't like how, deep down, she was starting to feel something extremely close to desperation at the prospect of, by chance, spending the day alone, yet again. It usually wouldn't have upset her too much, but this year she felt herself being more emotional than usual, thanks to the tumult of emotions you had been making her feel, which is why she knew that doing her usual trip to that place would've been so much harder than usual…

But luckily enough for her, you said yes and spared her heart an ache she really wasn't looking forward to feeling.

You didn't know what you were expecting when she said she'd bring you to a special place she liked, but a gigantic, wooden mansion in the woods wasn't exactly what you anticipated. At first it didn't really feel like something that would fit Natasha’s character, but when you thought about it a bit more, it was actually the perfect place for someone like her. Yes, it was still incredibly luxurious and slightly over the top, like the strong, stone cold CEO everyone knew her to be, but the quiet nature surrounding it, completely void of the chaos of the city and any people, felt like the real Natasha, the quiet, almost slightly shy one you had gotten to know in private.

You knew she had worked nonstop right until you had left, so you were pretty sure she would've appreciated what you had planned for your first day of vacation.

As soon as you got to your destination and she had given you a brief tour of the beautiful place, you were in her bed, not to do anything scandalous for once. You had barely given her the time to get in the bedroom before you were pushing her on the soft mattress and getting to work to give her the best massage you could, trying your best to relax her tense muscles at least a little bit. Thankfully, it had definitely worked because not only was she moaning the whole time in a way that you could barely ignore by the end of your little session, but she was out for a good three hours as soon as you finished your job.

You wanted nothing more than to bask in her relaxed beauty as she soundly slept next to you, but her calmness almost immediately lulled you into a delicious slumber as well.

You had unfortunately woken up from your nap all alone but you thankfully found her quite easily, despite the extremely large building you were still unfamiliar with.

You immediately missed the warmth coming from the cracking wood in the fireplace as soon as you stepped foot outside. Despite someone having taken care of the previously fully white hangout area right outside of the living room, there were still traces of snow over the large terrace as you shakily crossed it to reach Natasha. Maybe you underestimated the weather a bit too much and you definitely shouldn't have gone out only in sweatpants, uggs and a sweater but it was too late to change now, you needed to be with her.

She was leaning over the railing, facing the frozen lake a couple of feet away from the house while she lazily smoked a cigarette by herself. You had strangely never seen her smoke, but the lighter always sitting on the coffee table in the terrace back at her home suggested she sometimes indulged herself in it. She heard you way before you were able to reach her and, by the time you were by her side, she was already welcoming you with open arms, waiting for you to sneak in front of her to close her coat over the both of you.

"You're gonna freeze to death, detka."

Her murmured words and her voice, still slightly raspy from sleep, warmed you up just a little as you sneaked a hand out of its warm spot to snatch her cigarette and take a drag, appreciating even the small traces of warmth on your fingers from the end burning. Your breath, mixing with the smoke in the cold air, created a thick cloud in front of the two of you as you gave her back her cigarette.

"You should stop."

A sense of déjàvu seemed to suddenly hit Natasha as you repeated the words she'd heard from every single one of her wives. But the usual hints of annoyance she expected to feel at the thought of someone trying to tell her what to do surprisingly never came, leaving her only with the faint need to grant your wish and prevent you from worrying for her.

“If it'll make my sweet girl happy, maybe I will.”

“My”, that word hit you so deep and kept echoing in your mind over and over. How good did it sound, the idea of being Natasha's girl, of being the one next to her in life. It must've been even colder than you thought for your brain to get lost in such thoughts once again. You promised yourself you wouldn't give them air, yet there you were, melting in her arms at such simple words she probably didn't mean in such a deep way. Ok, maybe she did mean them in the exact way you were hoping…

You admittedly couldn't stop thinking about her, the deeper and deeper feelings you had for her plagued your mind all. the. time. And the only thing that reigned in your head every second of every hour was pure, emotional chaos. You knew you had to decide whether you wanted to try to pursue her in a less…professional way, but you hated to admit that you didn't know if you were brave enough to do so. You were still technically working when you spent time with her and hiding behind your job admittedly gave you a small sense of reassurance while you tried to get a grip on your spiraling thoughts.

You hated the fact that you were making her wait, you still hadn't given her a sign as clear as hers that you reciprocated the way she felt for you, and you knew that, if you waited for too long, your chance would've slipped away.

You didn't even really know what caused your stupid hesitation and you hated yourself for it. You could only do what felt the most fitting lately and tried not to think about it for too long. And the beautiful woman pressed right against your back, despite being the cause of your dilemma, at the same time easily gave you the perfect distraction any time you needed.

“It would…tho, I've got to admit, you're so hot when you smoke, jesus christ!”

You used the pretense of the icy weather to hide most of your face behind her warm coat, but she immediately noticed your genuine shyness behind the action at your spontaneous admittance. It warmed her heart every time you left some appreciations slip and got embarrassed for it. She only chuckled at your words and finished the rest of her cigarette in silence, soaking in the calmness from simply being in each other's presence.

As soon as she was done smoking you couldn't help but turn around in her arms, hugging her under her coat and breathing in her intoxicating scent from your warm spot in her hold. Your not so sneaky kiss on her neck as you hugged her could only make her need to feel your lips on hers and, lifting your chin with her index finger, she finally lost herself in a soft kiss. For once, you managed to lazily make out without your clothes immediately ending up scattered everywhere and you had to admit that you loved the tender, yet still passionate, moment just so much more than you expected. You gladly would've spent the rest of the day frozen in that moment, but you knew that, if you didn't stop yourself, you were the one who would've ended up frozen to death. And you wanted to live long enough to at least show her what you had ready for her…

“I have a surprise for you”

You barely managed to break the kiss to murmur the words against her lips and the small glint in her eyes made your stomach flutter like crazy.

“Another one? You're spoiling me, pretty girl.”

She seriously had to stop calling you all those names or else you were sure you wouldn't have been able to handle being called anything else ever again.

“I'm barely repaying you. You do so much for me.”

You felt your cheeks slightly warm up at your own words and the way she sweetly kissed your lips as a response certainly didn't help. You felt some of your confidence come back, though, once your mind went back, once again, at what the rest of the day would've been.

“Now, how about you go get comfortable on the couch, relax a little and wait for me? I'll be quick, I promise.”

“Yes ma'am.”

She smirked as she muttered her words, knowing that was the most you could manage to boss her around. She was more than happy to comply, though. Not only was she actually curious of what was to come, but she knew she would've done basically anything in her comfort zone to make you happy.

So she did just what you said. She made herself a drink, sat on the couch in front of the fireplace and patiently waited for you to finally come back to her. She barely had the time to get herself lost in thought, before the sound of your footsteps got closer and closer to her. The white fur trims were the first things she saw once you rounded the corner and, as soon as your full figure graced her eyes, a playful, yet genuine, smile broke out on her face.

You had decided to do something a little more playful, and got yourself a red velvet mini dress with white fur trims at the bottom of the skirt and the top of the cleavage. If you had to be honest, you didn't even mind it, the dress itself definitely wasn't on the cheap side and you actually felt quite pretty in it. You also knew that Natasha liked something a bit different from time to time, so the thought of making her happy was most definitely a big plus.

“God, detka! You only get prettier, don't you? “

Despite your innocent facade you had purposely put on, your big smile and brief giggle were the most genuine thanks to her words. You couldn't help but lean over, giving her a perfect view of your cleavage in the meantime, to give her a quick kiss on the lips as a way to thank her.

As you turned around to move towards an armchair near the couch she was sitting on, she noticed the small pouch bag you'd been holding behind your back the whole time and couldn't help but grow curious as you got something from it. Leaning over to get the object you were looking for, the short skirt rode up your thighs deliciously, barely covering your center. Natasha knew she would've ended up leaning her head down to get a peak of what was hidden from her if you didn't straighten your back once again. And the initial, very brief, disappointment, immediately got replaced, once again, by anticipation as she intently observed your every movement. Gosh, you were driving her crazy while barely doing anything…

You held the mystery item behind your back the same way you were doing before with the bag and made your way back towards her, stopping in front of her. Natasha could immediately notice the mischievous nature behind the tiny smile you were trying to hide. She was starting to grow restless and she would've almost jumped on you if you didn't start talking.

“You've been very very good this year and I think you deserve a nice reward!”

She didn't utter a word as she waited for you to finish. Curiosity was eating her up, though, and sitting still on the couch, with you standing in front of her, your beautiful body perfectly on display for her, was getting harder by the second.

Thankfully, you easily got her attention as you showed her what you had behind your back.

“But first, you need to help me out with something.”

Your innocent voice and the glass candy cane that was hanging from your index finger, something most definitely void of any innocence, created a contrast that Natasha immediately felt in her pants. She had long given up by then, knowing that even the smallest thing you did or said could've easily gotten her riled up in a matter of seconds.

Her full attention was soon back on you once you'd gotten a secure hold of the candy cane and licked its tip before slowly pushing it into your mouth, stopping only once you had gotten down to its curve. Natasha couldn't stop a low groan of hers at the sight and unconsciously gripped her own thighs as to control herself once you leaned down. Your raised eyebrow and your eyes moving from hers to the toy made her understand what you wanted her to do. Your hollowed cheeks as she slowly pulled the candy cane out of your mouth, helped her pants feel even tighter and your pop once she fully pulled it out made it even worse.

Before she could make sure to calm herself down a bit, though, you turned around and leaned down a little, resting your hands on your own knees. Your new position made the skirt of your dress ride up dangerously and, soon enough, Natasha was finally able to fully see your surprisingly exposed center. She could only hum from the beautiful view of your already glistening core.

“Go on, put it in.”

Your words finally pulled her attention back to your face, as you now tried your best to look back at her. Happy to comply with your playfulness, she immediately went to push the end of the glass toy, now wet from your spit, into your pussy, but your giggle made her stop her movements as her smirk fell.

“Not in there, silly!”

She was at a loss for words and, thinking it was all a dream, she had to make sure she understood you correctly.

“Are you sure?”

You just smiled and nodded as a response and, seeing her still stuck in place, you wiggled your ass a little to get her attention back to her task in hand. Natasha took a deep breath to try to get a grip on herself. She knew that the tent in her pants was only destined to get worse in a matter of seconds.

Once she finally pushed the glass toy into the tight hole of your ass, she couldn't help but loudly curse. Your soft moans as she very slowly pushed more and more of it inside of you were already driving her crazy. Not wanting to go too fast she stopped herself once the straight end of the candy cane was around halfway inside and admired the amazing view in front of her. She could see how you unconsciously tried to squeeze your legs together as you softly whimpered from the different, yet extremely good, feeling.

As soon as she noticed her free hand getting closer to her own pants almost as if on its own, her attention was back on you. You slowly started to move back and forth over the glass toy Natasha held still in her hand and, the thought of possibly feeling her cock inside of you instead, surprised you with a loud moan of your own. Despite the toy's girth being quite alright, you soon found yourself needing more. You wanted her, you needed her. You could also hear Natasha's breathing getting a bit quicker partly thanks to her own hand now massaging herself through her pants.

So you pushed down one last time and, once you reached the curve of the candy cane, making the older woman groan at the lewd sight, you fully lifted yourself off of it with a breathy moan. The toy left a small opening once it left your hole and Natasha couldn't stop herself from imagining what it would’ve looked like if it was her cock you had fucked, instead. In that moment, the need to manhandle you on all fours to fuck you until you couldn't remember your own name hit her stronger than ever since you had known each other. But she did her best to hold herself back to find out what you were planning to do next.

The older woman was partly thankful once you moved away to rummage through your pouch bag, giving her some time to catch her breath and quickly finish her drink in one go. Once you got back, she knew it was all in vain, though.

Of course, the first thing she noticed was the butt plug you were holding that you had covered with lube. How could it not be? She had to admit it took her a couple of seconds to snap out of her trance as she admired you once again standing in front of her, this time offering the new toy to her. Once she was finally able to move a muscle and grab it, you turned around and leaned down like before, waiting for Natasha to do what you silently asked her to. The cold metal on your skin slightly made you jump in surprise as she moved the tip over your hole to get some lube over it too. Feeling her applying a bit more pressure, you tried to relax as much as you could, but couldn't hold back a whine as she gradually pushed more and more. Natasha's low cursing kept gracing your ears and only made you more eager to please her. You held your breath as the widest part pushed past your ring and, just like that, the rest slipped in almost as if on its own, making you yelp in surprise.

You giggled at your own reaction and, looking back at her, you found her eyes still on your center as her hands gently moved over your cheeks. Natasha couldn't believe how much she was being affected by everything you were doing and the sight of the red stone on your tight hole and your pussy now most definitely wet, were starting to make her twitch in her own pants. You still hadn't explicitly said if you wanted her to fuck you, so she made sure

to make the most out of the beautiful view in front of her, definitely more than enough for now.

You unfortunately put a stop to it to stand back up, taking a deep breath and turning around to face her once again.

“Much better!”

Your smile was filled with fake innocence as you leaned down to kiss her on the lips and whisper to her as if you were telling her a secret.

“I'll wait for you in the bedroom”

You barely had the time to leave the living room before she was catching up on you and following you towards the bedroom, shamelessly admiring your exposed thighs. She couldn't stop thinking about what was hidden under your skirt and her anticipation kept growing bigger and bigger with every step you took and every gentle sway of your hips.

You wanted to treat her to a night all about her, and you also selfishly wanted to do it because you liked it too, but she apparently was more needy than you made her out to be.

As soon as you got into the bedroom and you tried to make her lie down to properly worship her body, she was pushing you to stay under her instead. The way she had manhandled you and her slightly flushed cheeks as she hovered over you, made your center spasm around the plug still inside of you, drawing a moan out of you. She couldn't waste one more second, her cock was almost painfully hard and the sight of you lying down under her, with your skimpy dress and your legs open, were making her, if possible, even more eager to have you.

Seeing her frantically taking her pants and underwear off all while looking at your core made you pathetically whimper and you couldn't hold yourself from moving your own hand downwards to gently rub your clit in the meantime. You both knew you wouldn't have been able to indulge yourselves in any foreplay today, so you let her climb on the bed, between your legs, as you made yourself comfortable, ready to let her do whatever she wanted to you. But, before you could lay your head on the pillows, she made you turn around and pulled your ass up, making you kneel on all fours before her. You could barely breathe, she was always the one in charge during your sessions, but this was a slightly different side of Natasha you still hadn't met, unfortunately.

She ran her hands over your ass cheeks once again, lifting your skirt while doing so, before gliding her palms over the small of your back and upwards. Once she got to your shoulder blades she gently, yet purposefully, pushed until the side of your face was pressed against the mattress and your ass was in the air. You could see her admiring you from the corner of your eye and after a few seconds she leaned down a little to get closer to your face.

“Can I take it out, detka?”

Her soft voice was so much different than her actions and it made your heart flutter. You could only eagerly nod and whisper a small “yes, please”, after which she immediately straightened her back up, kneeling behind you, and took a deep breath before taking a hold of the end of the plug. She gently pulled on it, making you gasp at the incredible feeling, and gradually pulled it out. Natasha couldn't help but moan at the sight of your ass stretching over the largest part of the toy and the need to feel you got almost unbearable.

She made sure to get a hold on herself, though, wanting to make the experience as comfortable as possible for you, and thoroughly lubed her cock.

“You ready?”

As soon as you answered positively, she positioned her cock against your ass, trying to calm down her breathing in the meantime.

Your mouth opened in a silent moan as she slowly pushed the head of her cock inside. It felt overwhelming yet not nearly enough at the same time and you didn't know whether you wanted her to stop or give you more. She wasn't even halfway inside when she stopped moving for a little bit to let you get used to it and, in the meantime, admire once again the way your ass tightened around her.

She couldn't believe how good you felt around her even without moving at all and she ended up having to focus on your beautiful face to distract herself while you got more comfortable. Your eyes were closed while you grasped one of the pillows for dear life and your lips looked even more tempting than usual as you shakily breathed through them. She would've gladly leaned down to kiss you with all the lo-care she had, but she wanted to wait for you to be more at ease.

“Please, move”

Your small, trembling voice that finally graced her ears after a bit, sounded heavenly to Natasha, who, taking a hold on your hips, slowly pulled out a little, before pushing back in, gradually going just a little deeper each time. She basked in the blissful sounds you were making and, once she settled on a regular pace, she finally left herself get lost in the pleasure. You finally got to hear her guttural moans as she fucked you still at a quite slow pace. You were sure there couldn't have been a more beautiful sound in the world and you would've gladly done anything to listen to it all the time.

Natasha's hold on your hips kept getting tighter and tighter, almost to the point of it being painful. You knew she was holding back and while at first you were thankful for it, you were once again feeling the gnawing need to feel more of her.

“Oh shit”

Natasha couldn't help but curse under her breath once she started feeling you pushing back against her every thrust, and your loud moan as you tightened around her once again did nothing but drive her wild. You tried to look back at her to admire her beautiful face of pure bliss and, once her eyes met yours, you couldn’t help but moan and move a little bit faster, making her movements quicken as well.

You settled on a steady pace and, while it satisfied you for a bit, you soon found yourselves needing more and more and more. It seemed like it was never enough.

You were desperate to feel each other cum as soon as possible, but, at the same time, you didn't want the blissful moment to end.

After a bit, sensing both of your orgasms approaching, Natasha pushed as much of herself she could inside of you, staying still for a couple of seconds and admiring you as you tried to hold yourself upright. You could barely breathe, if you thought she felt big while fucking you, you were wrong.

Once she finally pulled out, she graced you with a loud groan as you collapsed on the bed. Your and Natasha's heaving was the only sound in the room as you tried to recover as much as you possibly could.

You only noticed the tear that had escaped your eye once she gently wiped it with her thumb, before leaning down and kissing your cheek so softly you barely felt it.

“Are you ok?”

She barely pulled away to whisper her words, lowly speaking as if to make sure no one else could hear her. You only nodded while looking at her beautiful face and basked in the feeling of her hand gently running up and down your back.

“Do you wanna keep going?”

This time your nod was more eager, despite your energy starting to run low, and before she could ask you again, you made sure to confirm your desire with a firm “yes”.

As soon as you complied, she once again kissed your cheek and helped you turn around, letting you lie on your back to face her. She looked so beautiful, even more beautiful than usual, if that was even possible, and you suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling tugging at your heart at the sight of Natasha softly smiling down at you. You almost wanted to cry, but before you could get even more emotional than you apparently already were, you caressed her cheek and leaned up to deeply kiss her on the lips.

As you kept languidly making out, she ran her hands over your thighs as she settled between them and made you open them as much as you could. Once she broke the kiss, she leaned her forehead against yours and pushed her cock back inside of your ass, making you whimper at the even more intense feeling thanks to her closeness this time.

Thanks to the orgasm you both were about to reach just minutes before, you soon found yourselves settling back into a regular pace, gradually growing quicker by the minute.

You couldn't hold back another whine when Natasha straightened her back to stand on her knees, putting some distance between the two of you you admittedly hated deep down. But her hold on your waist as she resumed with a fast pace and her other hand moving to your clit, easily clouded your mind once again.

She was making you once again get closer to your peak incredibly fast and as much as you tried to hold it back for as long as you could, knowing that she was equally close to cumming, made you get even more lost in the highest pleasure you'd ever felt. She looked like a straight up goddess as she breathed hard through her mouth with her eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes roaming every snippet of your figure she could, made you feel like you couldn't be blessed by anything holier in your life.

You never wanted her to stop gracing your eyes and ears and skin. You wanted, no, needed her at all times and the moans that you couldn't hold back were unfortunately the only thing you could offer her back.

You could feel it coming, oh how sweet was your peak going to be, like no other in your entire life.

There it was! It was coming to the surface! No no no no, it wasn't a moan! Why couldn't you stop it!

“I love you!”

Part 6

Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100 @marvels--slut @dvrkhcld @elenimoris @mrsrushman @mrsromanoff @thalia-is-not-ok @alianovnasposts @clintsupremacy @taliiiaasteria @meowymari @lissaaaa145 @natashaswife4125 @olsenmyolsen @angrywhisperslove @aemilia19 @setsuna1415 @letsboandy @mrsromanovaa @wizardofstories @karsonromanoff @scarlettbitchx

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moremaybank · 4 months

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HOME THIS CHRISTMAS — j.m

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader prompt: "i thought you were going home for christmas?" - "well, i couldn't leave you all alone." requested: here (ty @drewstarkeyslut) warnings: none naughty or nice ! ౨ৎ

When you first told JJ that you had to fly back home to visit your parents for the holidays, you could see the sorrow in his eyes. He tried his hardest not to let it show, throwing on the best smile he could and saying “That’s great, baby. I know you miss ‘em. I bet they’re thrilled.”

What he really wanted to do was get on his knees, loop his arms around your legs like a child and beg and plead for you not to leave him. He couldn’t help it. Most of the time growing up, he’d duck out of his house, not too eager to spend quality time with Luke. Quality time in which Luke would spend being wasted out of his mind and souring the mood. John B always had Big John to celebrate with, and now he has Sarah. Kie would stay with her parents and possibly do something at The Wreck to give back during the festive season, and Pope would spend it with his parents as well.

It’s not like they tried to leave JJ out. That’s just what ended up happening every year.

But now that the two of you were together, he hoped that he’d finally get to experience Christmas with someone he loved.

Too bad the odds just weren’t in his favour.

He moped, albeit internally (though you knew him far too well to believe that he was happy, or even simply okay). With the date of your departure rapidly approaching, he grew even more defeated. When you asked him about it, he knew he couldn’t lie to you. But he would just say that he was going to miss you. That he’d been excited to start new holiday traditions with you, but you won’t have the opportunity to do so. And while you argued that you could still do everything he’d planned out before and after you returned, you understood where he was coming from.

It wouldn’t be the same.

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t want you to worry about me. I get you all to myself for the majority of the year, you should be able to go visit your family without feeling guilty.”

Your hands rub a path up and down his brawny arms. “You know, no matter how many times you say not to worry, I still will.”

He smiles, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. “‘N I love you for that, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let your guilt hold you back. You’re goin’.”

And that was that.

Or, at least, that’s what JJ thought.

When JJ woke up on the twenty-third of December, the bed was cold and empty. There was no one scratching his back, kissing up the length of his spine and playing with his hair. No one whispered how pretty he looked as he slept, how tan he was in contrast with the white cotton sheets embracing him.

His shower was even lonelier than the wake-up had been. Still, he forced himself to continue with his morning routine before begrudgingly getting himself to work. JJ never enjoyed work, but now that he couldn’t look forward to your daily visit…let’s just say he was no longer the ray of sunshine he always was in your company.

The day dragged on, possibly the slowest he’d ever experienced. He waited for a text or call from you to ensure that you’d reached your destination with all your precious limbs intact. But hours went by, and he hadn’t heard from you. Worry bubbled in his chest, but he just told himself that you were reuniting with everyone, and you couldn’t find a second to pull yourself away from them.

Meanwhile, you were running around ordering all of JJ’s favourite foods, buying matching pyjama sets and decorating your apartment. You hadn’t bothered to do so earlier since you were planning on being away, and truthfully, you didn’t want JJ to be surrounded by all the reminders of why you weren’t there.

In hindsight, maybe it would’ve been better to make it homey for him. Especially now that you were on a massive time crunch.

When you were done, you shot JJ a quick message.

Hi, baby. Miss you. There’s a surprise waiting for you when you get home. I hope you like it ♡︎

Though he would’ve loved to hear your voice, joy washed over him once he read your message. You were so good to him. You had a habit of acting like a madman every time you had to travel, and in between freaking out the way he knew you were, you took the time out of your busy schedule to brighten up his day.

The drive home felt far too long. He wished for nothing more than to shower, crack open a few beers and chill. Smoke so he could fall asleep without you.

On another note, his curiosity also ate away at him. He wondered what his crazy girl had left behind for him.

He stepped inside your shared place, noticing a cast of light coming from the next room. Shit, he thought, she’s gonna kill me if I left the lights on again. But when he reached the room, there you were, wearing red plaid pyjamas and fuzzy socks, standing next to a large pile of presents in front of your brand-new pine tree.

“What…What are you doin’ here? I thought you were goin’ home for Christmas?”

You crossed the room, looping your arms around his back and looking up at him. You watched his blue eyes sparkle in the light.

He’d never looked so delighted. Relieved.

“Well, I couldn’t leave you all alone.”

“But, what about your family? They’re expectin’ you,” he spoke, though he pulled you into him further. “What if they hate me for making you stay here?”

Your head tilted, and your heart melted. He was so disappointed by the thought of having to spend Christmas by himself again, but the first thing that popped into his mind at the sight of you was the idea of your family being upset with him.

He was too sweet for his own good.

“You didn’t make me do anything. I wanted to stay. It wouldn’t have been Christmas without you. As for my family — who do not hate you, by the way — they’re coming down in a few days. And they can’t wait to meet the boy who makes me happy.”

He didn’t even respond. Not verbally, anyway. He simply gave you a shining grin, cupped your face and kissed the life out of you.

Oh, yeah. Best decision ever.

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lovelytsunoda · 1 year

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santa baby // charles leclerc

summary: it's christmas morning, his mother has the kids, and it's been too long since he and his wife got to enjoy a little bit of quality time, if you get what he's saying

pairing: charles leclerc x wife! reader

warnings: festive smut <3, a few jokes about how y/n's dad really didn't like charles in the beginning, mentions of heaven in a pretty unholy context. charles wants another child which turns into mild breeding

authors note: the christmas collection is almost complete!! this is the last christmas based story, and to close out the series I have one that takes place in new york on new years!

the monaco morning was chilly, a light dusting of snow descending on monte carlo as charles leclerc and his wife lay tangled in bed, christmas tree still twinkling and full of light in the penthouse apartment's main room. they always slept like this, with charles' body draped over hers, his arms tightly clutching her around the midsection, legs tangled together.

they'd married young, just nineteen when they eloped in italy because charles was scared that y/n's father was going to kill him. but her father was a traditional man, who thought that his daughter was destined for more than charles, who came across as a playboy f2 driver at the time.

but they had known each other for years, high school sweethearts, if you will. they got married right before charles started his first season with sauber, and the monegasque boy had promised that he would always support and look after y/n. of course, the shit hit the fan once their respective families realized that they had eloped, but it would take a blind man not to see how madly in love the two young adults had been at the time.

had been, and still were.

“mhm, charles…” she whined, feeling the tip of her husbands warm nose at the back of her neck. she lifted the ferrari drivers hand from around her waist, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “good morning, mon amour.” she said softly, pressing back into the monegasque.

“merry christmas cherie.” charles smiled against her skin, eyes still closed as he pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of her neck.

“I wonder if jolie is awake yet. I forgot how nice it was to wake up in a quiet house.”

the couple had always kept their private life just that: private. their rings weren’t flashy, simple bands that didn’t catch too much attention. and a few months after charles had signed to ferrari, y/n had told him that she was pregnant, something they had tried to hide to the best of their ability.

he had been shocked at first, but the glow in his eyes and grin on his face hadn’t ever gone away. they’d kept the pregnancy a secret as long as possible, but sebastian vettel had eventually figured it out, the same way that the german had figured out that the young lovers were married.

jolie helene leclerc was the apple of charles’ eye. from the moment that jolie was born, the infant had charles wrapped around her pudgy little fingers.

“jolie is fine, mon tresor. she’s with my mom and arthur.”

she laughed, sitting up in bed before looking down at her husband, tapping him gently on the nose. “arthur is why I’m worried. he might be twenty one but he’s still a child. just let me call your mom.” she insisted, getting out of the king sized bed and walking across the room to get her phone, the hemline of her green silk nightdress barely covering her ass.

“babe…” charles whined. “she’s fine, come on. when was the last time that we had the apartment to ourselves?”

charles had a point. the night before, the couple had opened a bottle of red wine and binged the new season of ‘only murders in the building’ before y/n had fallen asleep in the couch, curled up against her husbands side before charles had carried her her back to the bed.

she paused, turning back to her husband. charles rarely ever wore pajamas to bed, but for the holiday season he had humoured his wife with a silk set, the top unbuttoned halfway to show off his impressive muscles, the outline of his dick visible through the silk pants.

it was a sight that used to make her mouth water. not that she didn’t find her husband attractive anymore, it was just that she had other priorities. like raising jolie.

“I suppose you’re right.” her voice was sing-songy as she leaned against the dresser, one of the nightgown straps falling down her shoulder. “what do you suggest we do about it?”

charles grinned, hair messy and cheeks flushed as he got out of bed, meeting his wife in the middle of the room as he pulled her in for a kiss, his hands warm against her skin in the chilled room.

“I can think of a few ideas, ma cherie.” he grinned, slipping his hands up the back of her nightdress. “you’re beautiful.” he hummed, pressing kisses to her neck as she flushed pink under the half light, a smile on her face as she giggled.

charles never failed to sweep her off her feet.

she laughed as charles gripped her ass for support as she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist before he stumbled back towards the bed. they fell to the sheets in a tangle of limbs and giggles, her husband hovering over her as he peppered her exposed skin with kisses, palming her erect nipples through the silk.

“oh, charles.” she moaned lowly as charles drew back, reaching to undo the last few buttons on his silk shirt.

y/n wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning in close and pressing a few gentle kisses to her husbands chest, his rapidly hardening cock becoming increasingly more prominent through his trousers.

she could feel his muscles tensing and undulating underneath her lips as he breathed deeply, a sensation that only added to the want pooling between her legs.

charles sucked in a breath at the feeling of his wife’s lips against his abs. he would never get tired of calling y/n his beautiful wife. he could hardly contain himself, stomach rapidly rising and falling as she continued to kiss him, her fingertips dancing across his skin as she looked up at him, a bright smile on her face and lust in her eyes.

he knew she would never suck him off. it was a sensory thing, she hated the feeling of having any dick in her mouth, not just charles’. but charles was more than okay with that, as he would much rather be on his knees for her than have her on her knees for him.

charles slipped out of the undone shirt, gently pushing her back onto the bed and climbing on top of her, connecting his lips to hers in a fiery kiss as she slipped her hand down the front of his pants, cupping his erection in her delicate hand.

"mon amour," he rasped. "don't feel like you have to. this morning is all about you."

"but what if i want to?" her words came out in a whisper, eyes like oceans staring back at charles.

"you know that i won't stop you, mon amour." his breathing was heavy as y/n used both hands to push charles onto the bed, reversing their earlier position so that she straddled the ferrari driver.

she slid the silk pants down her husband's legs just enough so that she had access to his cock, running her fingers up and down the length.

she might not give blowjobs, but in charles' eyes, his wife did something even better with her hands, lips on his neck as she stroked his length, drawing a deep moan that bordered on a growl from teh back of charles' throat.

"baby..." he whined, his wife's hand warm and comforting as she pumped his dick in her hand, leaning over his body to press feather light kisses to his skin as charles gripped her thigh. "you're too good to me."

"i mean, you were on the nice list this year." she grinned, smiling against charles' chest as she pressed a kiss to his skin, quickening the pace at which she moved her hand up and down his shaft.

"not for much longer, ma cherie. not for too much longer at all." he cursed in french, bucking his hips into her hand as his eyes rolled back. "i wont last much longer like this, darling. I need to be inside you.”

“how do you want me?” she asked innocently, withdrawing the hand she had on charles’ cock and leaning down to kiss him softly, his hands cupping her ass.

“on your stomach, cherie. let me see your curves.”

every nerve ending in her body was on high alert as she laid on the plush mattress, resting the side of her face against the pillow as she moved all of her hair to one side , tingling with the sensation of anticipation, just waiting for charles to caress every inch of her body.

she could hear her husband fumbling with his pants in the background, giggling as she felt him run his hand up her leg. he slowly pushed her nightgown up, pressing kisses to her bare ass and up her lower spine, taking the silk fabric with him as he relished in how after all these years, he could still make y/n leclerc tremble underneath his touch.

“charles, don’t tease, baby.” she murmured, giving in fully to his touch as she bucked her ass back unit her husbands body. “you gave up the right to do that when we had a child.”

charles laughed, running his fingers along her slit as he readied himself behind her. “I’m here baby, don’t move a muscle and let me show you how much I appreciate you.”

he slid in slowly, y/n moaning softly underneath him as she fisted the flannel sheets. “oh, sweet jesus.” she muttered as charles began to slowly thrust into her, his cock reaching all the places that made her shiver.

“you feel like heaven, mon amour.” charles growled. “god, I love you so fucking much.”

“oh, charles!” her moan was so high pitched that it bordered in a whimper. “faster, please, charles.”

charles grinned to himself, picking up the pace as he leaned down to pepper her spine in delicate kisses, loving the way that her back arched under his touch, the curve of her spine as she pressed her hips back, trying to take as much of his cock as she could.

it was like heaven on earth.

“my sweet girl.” the monegasque hummed, the room filled with the sounds of skin on skin, and the moans of the angel underneath him, the sight of his cock sliding in and out of his wife enough to make his eyes roll back in his skull. “oh, you take my cock so well. almost like we were made for each other.”

“you’ve been using that line for five years, amour.” she giggled, a smile on her face before her lips parted in a moan, her arm reaching back so she could clasp her husbands hand in hers.

he grinned slyly “and it still works, doesn’t it? I managed to get a baby out of you.”

“yes, yes.” she moaned, clutching Charles’ hand tightly as she buried her face in the pillow, goose-down swallowing her moans.

charles paused, pressing his chest against her back, gently kissing her cheek as she brushed a few stray strands of sweaty hair away from her face. “y/n, jolie is three years old already. I think it’s time that we maybe…had another one?”

she smiled, turning her head so she could look at her husband. “and you’re asking me now?”

charles chuckled. “can I put another baby in you, mon amour? I want a family with you, a little sibling for jolie.”

as awkward as it was given their position, y/n kissed charles softly. “put another baby in me, lover boy.”

if anything, the sex got more intense after Charles’ confession, his hips and his dick moving at a relentless pace as he slammed in and out of her. and y/n loved every second of it, fingers digging into the sheets as her moans reached a crescendo.

“should I fill you up, darling? yeah, you want me to put another baby in you?” charles grunted, feeling his climax hurtle closer as her walls began to clench around him.

“god, yes charles! give me your cum, put a baby in me!”

they let go around the same time, reducing charles to a groaning, moaning mess as he released his grip on his wife’s hips, rolling their bodies gently over onto their sides so that they were spooning, out of breath and satisfied, charles’ cock still buried inside of her.

“I meant what I said, charles.” she said softly, plying with her husbands fingers. “I want another child. three sounds like a good number, doesn’t it?”

the driver smiled, kissing her cheek. “two little girls and a boy. our own little karting team.”

“in your dreams.” y/n snorted “jolie hasn’t even looked at the go kart in the garage.”

“all in good time, mon amour. all in good time. merry christmas, y/n”

“merry christmas, charles. now, we should get in the shower and get ready otherwise we aren’t making it to your mothers for brunch.”

Tags:

@magnummagnussen @daydreamingleclerc @libraryofloveletters @flannel-cures @sidcrosbyspuck @diorleclerc

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula one x reader #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #the christmas collection 2022 #Spotify

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cevansbrat0007 · 4 months

Text

Cross-Country Christmas (Teaser)

Summary: After Ari is left stranded by a surprise winter storm, you find yourself wishing for a little Christmas miracle...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Angst, Ari Being A Menace, Holiday Themes, Smut, Arguments, Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, More Warnings to Come Minors DNI

A/N: This is only a TEASER, the longer fic is coming soon. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

8:30am on Christmas Day - Bell’s Creek, Texas

“I promise I’ll be fine, Beast.” Drying your tears, you crumble up your tissues in your fist before discarding them in favor of taking a sip of your coffee. “Like you just said, there’ll be other holidays. And certainly other Christmases.”

Ari was still stuck in Omaha. And while you had suspected this call was coming, you hadn’t been prepared for how much the disappointment would affect you.

By all accounts, your Bounty Hunter appeared to be in good spirits, albeit a little tired. He was still on standby, even though all flights were still grounded indefinitely. But you’d at least been happy to hear that he’d somehow managed to catch a few hours of sleep.

Not only that, but he’d also made a new friend in some guy named Clint. They apparently had a number of things in common, with the most important being that they’d both served overseas. Ari had also alluded to his new buddy being in law enforcement as well.

But if you were being honest, you’d been so focused on trying to sound positive that you hadn’t quite been able to focus on his words as much as you would’ve liked. Thankfully, Ari seemed keen on having a conversation – even if it felt a bit one-sided.

“The airline keeps offering to put us up for the night. Anyone who accepts will be guaranteed a spot on one of the first flights out.” Ari coughs softly before continuing. “However, if you’re willing to wait a little bit there’s talk about them sweetening the deal with some sort of voucher or somethin’, plus miles and all that shit.”

“Oh?” Is all you can manage, forcing yourself to take another pull of your now lukewarm coffee.

“Yeah. So, Clint and I were thinking…” He trails off, briefly leaning away from the receiver to comment on something you couldn’t see.

“You two were thinking…what?” Your next sip of coffee tastes surprisingly bitter on your tongue. Maybe you would dump out the pot and brew a fresh one.

“That we should take ‘em up on their offer and just ride this storm out. We take the points, get the voucher, and then maybe in a month or two, we go on a vacation together somewhere nice.”

“You and Clint?!” You screech, accidentally knocking over your mug in the process. “Shit!” You scramble out of your chair to grab a dish towel and hurriedly mop up the mess.

“Hate to break it to ya, baby, but Clint’s not really my type.” The Bounty Hunter chuckles into the phone. “I was talking about me and you, Bird. We can pick a destination and have ourselves a holiday do-over.”

A beat goes by before you respond the only way that makes any real, logical sense. Even though it seems to take every last bit of your resolve.

“Okay.” Your voice comes out small and resigned.

“Aw now, don’t fret. I’ll be home soon.” Ari does his best to reassure you. “And once I’m back, we will spend every waking minute making up for lost time. You have my word.”

Well, when he put it like that…

“I guess we can hold off for a little while longer.” You sniff, wishing you could just go back to bed and sleep until tomorrow. “But you had better keep your promise, Beast. Otherwise I’m gonna have to track down Santa and ask him for a new man.”

Your half-hearted attempt at humor elicits a short bark of laughter from Ari which, in turn, makes you smile as well. It would be hard, but you could make it

“Try it, sweet Bird, and I’m telling you right now that I’ll have you in my truck and over my knee before you make it outta the next county.” Comes his gruff response, clearly not enjoying the image of you hanging off another fella’s arm.

You know without asking that he’s probably not kidding – so you decide to leave it alone. If he wanted to thump his chest a little, then you’d let him.

“It was a joke.” You tell him when the line falls silent. Standing, you pad towards the fridge on bare feet, stopping once you reach the doors. Yanking one open, you survey the contents, silently wondering if you should even be bothered enough to cook today. Granted, you’d already brined the turkey so –

“Joking about my replacement isn’t funny, Bird.” Ari growls, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “Especially when I can’t be there in person to plead my case.”

You blow out a harsh breath at the same time as your eyes roll heavenwards. Why couldn't he understand that you needed to crack wise here and there in order to keep from crying?

END TEASER

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astrobiscuits · 4 months

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🎄🎵Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas🎵🎄

Holiday (365443) persona chart observations

🎅 Individuals with Ascendant at 1° or 3° get really excited in advance at the thought of Christmas coming. They tend to approach the holidays with the same innocent joy they had as kids even in adulthood

🎅 Stellium in 2nd house = tasty Christmas dishes and gifts are their only priority lmao

🎅 Neptune trine Venus tend to get lost in the beauty and bling of Christmas decorations

🎅 The sign and house where Jupiter is located tells you what type of gifts you might usually get on Christmas (it's also great to use as a gift guide!!):

🎁 Jupiter 1st house/Aries: gym equipment; sports-related merch; tickets to an event, which you're really passionate about; hats/head accessories; could also be something related to the natal Ascendant (check the description for your natal Rising sign for more info)

🎁 Jupiter in 2nd house/Taurus: lots of chocolate and sweets; clothes; art pieces; scented candles; perfume; fine china; kitchen utensils; cookbooks; (renewed) subscription to a movie streaming service

🎁 Jupiter in 3rd house/Gemini: a (new) car; books; musical instruments; handpan (if Jupiter is in Pisces or it positively aspects Neptune); your most memorable gift might come from a sibling or a relative (cousin, uncle, aunt)

🎁 Jupiter in 4th house/Cancer: plushies; heated blanket; board games; photo albums; your most memorable gift might come from your parents or it might be something passed on from generation to generation

🎁 Jupiter in 5th house/Leo: concert tickets; a trip to the tattoo parlor; gold jewelry; could also be something related to the natal Sun

🎁 Jupiter in 6th house/Virgo: Fitbit/smartwatch; aesthetic stationery (notebooks, planners, writing instruments); reusable water bottle; humidifier; pets

🎁 Jupiter in 7th house/Libra: make-up; beauty gadgets; a romantic partner/fiancé (no, but fr, you might get a love confession during the holidays); your most memorbale gift likely might come from your partner (if you have one)

🎁 Jupiter in 8th house/Scorpio: money/gift cards; sexy time toys; stockings; could be something the individual is obsessed with

🎁 Jupiter in 9th house/Sagittarius: trips to exotic destinations; henna hair dye; compression socks

🎁 Jupiter in 10th house/Capricorn: vintage decor; office chair; office purse (or just one that screams "high status"); sterling silver jewelry; high quality alcohol drinks

🎁 Jupiter in 11th house/Aquarius: electronic devices (smartphone, laptop, tablet, etc.); video games; anything related to supernatural beings (aliens, mermaids, fairies etc.); telescope; anything you've wished for/been manifesting

🎁 Jupiter in 12th house/Pisces: anything sleep related - pajamas, bed sheets, pillow sheets (or a new pillow), silk sleepmask; crystals; manifestation journal; tarot decks; art supplies

🎅 Christmas traditions based on the number of planets in angular/succedent/cadent houses:

❄️ High number of planets in angular houses (1, 4, 7, 10) = starting new family traditions

❄️ High number of planets in succedent houses (2, 5, 8, 11) = carrying out family traditions

❄️ High number of planets in cadent houses (3, 6, 9, 12) = tweaking/improving current family traditions or letting them go if they don't resonate anymore

🎅 Sun square/opposite Saturn & Ascendant conjunct/square/opposite Saturn = Grinch who doesn't like Christmas, but doesn't do anything to "destroy" it; might show a lot of sarcasm during the holidays; they might not celebrate Christmas due to reasons related to their position of Saturn

🎅 Sun square/opposite Mars = Grinch who doesn't like Christmas, but actively tries to "destroy" the holiday spirit for the people around them by picking up fights with loved ones

🎅 If you want to "hire" a Santa to show up with gifts for your kids on Christmas (aka choose one of your friends to fulfill this role), the best Santa would have atleast 3 of the following:

Sun conjunct/sextile/trine Jupiter

Venus conjunct/sextile/trine Jupiter

Sun/Moon in 5th house

Jupiter in 2nd house/5th house

Jupiter conjuncting MC

Sagittarius Rising or Jupiter as dom planet

Ruler of 2nd house (benefic planet) in 5th house and vice versa

Asteroid Abundantia (151) conjuncting Venus/Jupiter

❆❆❆ ~ 𝕸𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖒𝖆𝖘, 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊 ~ ❆❆❆

#astro #astro community #astrology #astro placements #astro observations #astro posts #astroblr #astro blog #astro notes #persona chart #jupiter #christmas astrology

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devotedlykoneshots · 6 months

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ZHONG CHENLE : BOYFRIEND FOR THE WEEKEND

Genre:🔞, minors dni, slight fake dating, best friend to lovers plot, nothing too crazy really

Word Count: 5182

--------

You heard a ring come from your laptop and immediately answered the call, knowing better than to keep chenle waiting for too long.

"Hey , what are you up to?"his voice sounded a little raspy , he must've just woken up.

"Getting packed for the holidays, my parents are dying to see me"you told him, you and chenle grew up together. You lived just across the street from each other, went to the same schools and hung around the same people.

He'd always been someone you could count on and he'd say the same for you but then college came around, you both became too busy for each other but he never forgot about you.

Always calling you every chance he could and you did the same, including him in your plans.

"Are you going home for the holidays this year ? "You asked and continued to walk around your room, chenle hums and nods.

" Yeah . My mum's pressing me about bringing someone home."He said and you gasped, turning your head towards the laptop.

" Mine too! Like we're just going to manifest dates in a month"You told him with an eye roll and then you saw a familiar look on his face.

" Wait ... what's that look?"You asked him and he scoffs.

"What look?"he asked as if he had no clue of what you were referring to.

"The look you always get when you're plotting"you told him , was he really that readable? He'd thought to himself.

If he asked , you would've told him he was pathetically readable or you just knew him too well.

Or both.

It was definitely both.

"I don't have a look"he brushed it off , hoping you'd let it go but he should've known better. You were as stubborn as they come.

"I can see the wheels turning in your head"you told him and he narrows his eyes at you but you knew better, chenle couldn't threaten you even if he tried.

"Stop looking at me"he huffed and you folded your arms and gave him a look, an unimpressed look.

"Then tell me what you're thinking"you told him and he sighs.

"Fine!, Okay I have a plan"he said and you raised your eyebrows, surprised it actually worked. You underestimated just how much of a hold you had on him.

"Is it something that's going to get us in trouble?"you asked him and he rolled his eyes at you with a scoff, now giving you his own look of disappointment.

"At this point you should know the answer to that"he said and your shoulders slumped.

" Yeah that's what I was afraid of"you mumbled and he chuckles, thinking of how cute could you possibly get.

"Do you wanna hear the plan or not?"he asked with as much sass as he could muster up at the moment.

"I'm listening"

Weeks go by and finally holiday season was in motion, some people were going home to see family and others were plotting something mischievous while everyone was away.

You're pretty sure you heard a guy named haechan talking about pranking some kids from the stray frat house.

"I cannot wait to see you , it's been forever. Talking on the phone isn't the same"Your best friend gushes excitedly over the phone and you agreed, you missed him lots.

"Hey , for Christmas , do you want to share a hotel room? I'm not staying at my parents house again , not doing it . "He tells you as you both prepared to get on the plane to head to your destination, you both would meet up at the station and catch a ride with your parents back to the house.

"You know what , yeah . That's actually a great idea and we can split the cost , why didn't we think about this before?"You exclaimed, slapping the palm of your hand against your forehead and wincing at the pain you just caused yourself.

"Hey! No injuries before we get there"he scolds you playfully and you rolled your eyes, unfortunately it was time for you to board the plane now so you had to say goodbye.

--------

"Chenle!"you sprinted across the airport before dropping your things and nearly jumping on him, hugging him tightly and he laughs as he drops his own things to hug you back just as tight.

"I didn't think you missed me so much."he said and you smiled before pulling away , punching his arm and watching him wince dramatically.

"Are you kidding? It wasn't the same without you. I don't have anyone else to force to binge watch vampire diaries with, you know..."you told him and he rolls his eyes, picking up his things before pointing across the station to the parking lot where both of your mothers were waving frantically.

"Let's go and get settled in , then we can catch up later"you immediately agreed and looked at him.

"Last one to reach our moms sits in the trunk with the luggage"you both immediately start to run to your parents.

You lost.

--------

"No dates again huh?"it was later that day after getting settled again when you entered the kitchen as your mother was just finishing up dinner.

"What?"the statement caught you off guard and she sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear and she turned to you.

"Sweetie you're in your prime right now and I didn't wanna say anything but I think it's time to explore"she said and your eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh dear God , mom please"you begged and rubbed your temples.

"I'm just saying, experience everything life has to offer"she said and folded her arms , you just looked at her with a blank expression.

"You mean sex"you deadpanned and she groans softly.

"Yes"she finally tells the truth.

"Oh my god, you're unbelievable"you shake your head and she huffs, you knew she was just trying to get you out of the house.

"At this point I'm questioning if you're a lesbian and you just haven't come out yet"She keeps going and if your jaw could drop to the floor it would be on the floor by now.

"What are you guys talking about?"your dad comes into the kitchen and you turn to him.

"Mom thinks I'm a lesbian"you tell him and he looks at his wife.

"Woah"he said and your mother doesn't look too pleased with you.

"You're still a virgin"she accused you, even though she was absolutely right.

"How would you know?!"you exclaimed.

"A mother knows"she tells you but by the time you could tell her off chenle shows up and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side.

"Actually, we're dating"he said and your head snaps in his direction.

"What?!"you, your mother and your father said in unison.

"Chenle , help me set the table"you tell him sweetly and he looks at you, with a look of fear.

"But-"you grab his arm and nearly drag him out of the kitchen.

"The table!"

"What are you doing?"you asked him once you get away from your parents.

"Helping you out, you remember my plan"he said and you groaned softly, that godforsaken plan.

"You said for Christmas"you tell him and he rolls his eyes.

"Well it looked like you needed help, you're welcome"he said and you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I know and thank you for helping me out but what now? we've been best friends since diapers, no one is going to believe this."you told him and he smiles at you, coming over to drape his arm over your shoulders.

"Everyone is going to believe this."he said and you looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows, he knew something you didn't.

"What are you talking about?"you asked him and he pulls away to grab the table cloth from behind you.

"Our parents have been secretly shipping us for the past 10 years"He said and your jaw dropped for the second time that night.

"You're joking"you tell him and he scoffed, looking at you as he set the table while you stand there and watch him.

"I wish, now help me set this table"he said and you rolled your eyes, so many questions running through your mind.

---------

"do you think we should practice kissing? Is that....I don't know how this works"you sit on your bed and put your head in your hands, the sound of his voice calls for your attention.

"I mean sure...just promise me one thing."he said and you bit the sleeve of your hoodie.

" what's that?"you asked and he smirks.

" don't fall in love with me."and you grab a nearby pillow, using it to wack him and he laughs.

Neither of you aware of your mothers spying on you outside the door, having come over to the door upon hearing your laughs.

"Oh as if"you scoff and roll your eyes , he takes the pillow from you and grabs you by the neck to pull you into a kiss.

Successfully catching you off guard and tossing the pillow on the floor, you cup his face in shock and close your eyes as you kiss him back.

"We have company"he whispers into the kiss and you pull him into a kiss again, he leaves one last peck on your lips and pulls away.

"I'll go see if the food is ready"he announced and you both heard them scattering back down the stairs to finish the food.

"Just a bunch of peeping tom's"chenle chuckles and you look over at the photo of you and him on your bedside table, your parents must've put that there.

"They just want what's best for us, I think it's sweet"you told him and smiled, he smiles at you fondly.

"Of course you do, you're too innocent for this world"he plops down on your bed and rests his head on your lap, your fingers instantly massaging his scalp.

"I'm not as innocent as you think"you tell him and he lifts himself up off your lap, raising his eyebrows at you.

"What's that supposed to mean?"he asked you and you giggled.

"Nothing!"you say and skip out of the room, rushing downstairs to sit at the table.

"Yah! Get back here and explain"he chases after you.

--------

The dinner table was unusually quiet which was rare for both of your families , your mind kept drifting back to the kiss.

You had no idea your best friend knew how to kiss like that , you had to play it off of course and you hoped he didn't notice.

"so when did this start?"your father asked , finally speaking up and you looked over at chenle.

"about 3 months ago"he replied smoothly, running his hand up and down your thigh to soothe you because he knew you were panicking.

"Why didn't you tell us, we would've understood?" Your mother speaks softly now, holding onto your fathers arm as she gushes.

"Its still pretty new and we were just trying to see where things could go before we told anyone" chenle really put on a show for both of your parents as his fingers massage your scalp , something only he knew calmed you down and you started to see him in a different light.

"As long as you're both happy"you smiled and looked over at chenle, he smiled as well.

"We are"you both said and dinner went on as usual, the liveliness returning and you sat there in your thoughts once again as you watched the people you loved dearly.

Dinner lasted for two hours before everyone started to pack up and say goodnight, you pulled chenle to the kitchen to speak privately and he let's you.

"I just wanted to thank you for tonight"you start off by saying as you fold your arms and he nods.

"You just looked so miserable and helpless, I had to save you"you rolled your eyes at that with a laugh , which made him laugh.

"You're so right, I don't know how I would've survived without you"you shake your head in disbelief and he catches you off guard when he places a hand on your cheek, stroking your soft skin.

"I'll see you tomorrow"he said and you nodded, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Yeah of cou-"you gasp against his lips as he pulls you into another kiss and places your hands around his neck before his move to your hips, you kissed back and grabbed a fistful of his hair.

It felt too real, this was a bad idea. You pulled back as you pant lightly and look up at him.

"Was someone watching?" You asked confused and he shrugged.

"Yeah, sure" you weren't convinced but didn't stop him from kissing you again, grip tightening on your waist and your fingers running through his hair.

"No sex in the kitchen!"your mothers shrill voice made you and him jump apart, you covered your face in embarrassment.

"Goodnight, y/n"you lifted your head to wave chenle a goodnight.

-------

That night you couldn't sleep and you tried your hardest really but your best friends lips wouldn't leave your mind, they felt so soft and the way he took control of the kiss.

The way he took care of you during dinner and the way he guided you in the kitchen, you couldn't be catching feelings for the guy who literally thinks not showering saves water and helps the planet.

This is the same guy who pulled your pig tails for shits and giggles, the same guy that farted under your shared blanket and told you " if you want to live , don't lift the blanket"

What the hell was your heart doing? What kind of short circuit , malfunction was this?

Unbeknownst to you he was in the same predicament , not being able to sleep because you wouldn't leave his mind and he sort of wished he'd pulled your pig tails harder when you were younger as if that would change how he felt when he didn't even know what he felt.

Was it infatuation, lust, or something deeper? It didn't matter because he found himself getting dressed and texting your phone.

He told you to come outside because he couldn't sleep and you found yourself doing so anyway despite your protests.

"Finally"he sighed and crossed the street to you, if anyone asked he'd say he wasn't in control of his body when he cupped your face and kissed your lips for the third time that night.

You kissed him back and grabbed the hands that cupped your face, this kiss was a lot different than the others. It was almost a frenzy, like he needed you and you were the only cure but time was running out.

He pulled away and buried his face in your neck with the both of you panting, holding onto each other tightly as if you'd slip away.

"chenle-"he cuts you off, pressing his forehead against your own and you breathe in his scent that's so uniquely him.

"I can't get you out of my head, its driving me crazy"he whispered even though you two were the only ones outside.

"neither can I"you agreed and you swear you saw a sparkle in his eyes, both of you just as hooked on each other.

"I wanna kiss you but not here"you grab his shirt in your hands and pull him closer, gulping down a whine that threatened to leave your lips.

"why not?" you ask and he smirks, thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

"you want me that bad?"he asked and you stepped back only to be pulled back against his chest a second later.

"not funny"you frown and he kisses your forehead , the simple gesture making you swoon more over this new side of chenle that no one had seen before but he just laughs at you.

"let's get out of here"he pulls out his car keys and grabs your hand, pulling you over to his new car.

"and go where?"you asked him and unlocks the car with just a click of a button, still talking as he does so.

"I'll get us a hotel room, don't want anyone else walking in on us"he explains and you freeze, stopping your strides and he immediately senses something off with you.

"what is it?"he asked turning to you and you just looked at the ground,stumbling over your words and trying to find a way to tell him this was your first time without saying too much.

"i- , I just-"chenle is so amazing at reading you that he completely understood, taking your hand in his and stroking your knuckles with his thumb.

That was something only you knew he did whenever he tried to comfort you, he was generally a very attentive guy and he could read you easily.

"we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with" he assures you but that only made you want to kiss him more, but he dodges your lips and makes you kiss his cheek instead with a smirk on his face.

"I'm serious"he tells you and you nod, you just wanted his lips on yours again and you grabbed two fist fulls of his shirt before pulling him against you hard, you don't pay any mind to your back hitting the car and only cared about the lips pressing against your own.

You hum in content and his hands grab your waist, tightening their grip before pulling away opening the door to the backseat and guiding you inside, locking the door after before his lips are back on yours and situating himself between your legs as he ruts against your clothed cunt covered by a thin layer of leggings.

"Chenle , you don't have a boner right now"you whispered and as you went to slip your hand between your bodies, he groans at your hand cupping his definite boner.

"Oh my god"you whisper but he pulls back, from the kiss, pressing his forehead against your own.

"We can just make out for a bit and then leave"you shake your head and lock your legs around his waist, cupping his face to kiss his lips and deepen the kiss.

"y/n"he tries to speak but you deepen the kiss again, pressing his hips down against your core and bucking up against him.

"need you here , lele"you whine and he gulps, shaking his head to clear his mind.

"I want you to be comfortable, your first time shouldn't be in the back of my car"he said and you drag your nails up the skin of his back, underneath his shirt as you successfully send a wave of shivers down his spine and he groans.

"please"you beg, all sense of pride leaving out the window the moment your lips are together, kissing his mouth like a starved animal and you move as you switch places with him to straddle his lap.

His hands on your hips and yours on his shoulders as he scoots back up against the other car door , locking the car before tossing the keys on the floor and you don't hesitate to kiss his neck as his hands move to your waist.

You take off your jacket and toss it onto the floor, his hands immediately slip under your shirt to touch your warm skin and you shriek at his cold fingers pulling back.

"Your hands are freezing"he does nothing but laugh and you lean over the front seat to turn on the heat , his hands slip under your shirt again but this time his fingers brush against your nipples and your body jerks at the sudden cold touch.

"no bra? what did we say about walking around outside in the winter without a bra?"he starts to scold you all the while his fingers roll your nipples between them and your back arches, gripping his shoulders tightly and shaking your head.

"chenle"you gasp and roll your hips down against him , he groans softly and grips your hips before bringing his lips to your nipple for the first time.

"Fuck"you gasp and tangle your fingers in his hair as you continue to grind on his crotch, his lips lick and suck your nipple as you hold him close and lean your head back.

Fuck, his tongue felt amazing.

"lele, I need you now"you whine as your hips rut against him and he has to force your hips to stop as he pulls off of your nipple.

"not yet , I still need to taste you"you bite your bottom lip and move to lay down on the other side of the car as chenle moves between your legs, his hands pull off your pants and underwear before blowing air on your clit.

"chenle" you smack his head as a reflex and he laughs before he let's his saliva drip down from his mouth and onto your anxiously awaiting pussy, using his index finger to spread it around before throwing your legs over his shoulder.

Your heart is beating fast and he hasn't even done anything quite yet, just using his finger to explore all you had to offer and looking up at your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

You bite your bottom lip harder and arch your back the second his tongue meets your flesh , hands pulling you closer to suck your clit into his mouth and you moan as you tangle your fingers in his hair.

"this is the longest you've ever been quiet"he laughs and you flick him off to which he sucks your clit harder, his head shaking as he sticks his tongue out and you cry out at the pleasure.

"Fuck-"he lifts your leg and rests your heel on the back of the drivers seat and licks at your entrance before he looks up at you , pulling back to stick his finger in his mouth and sucks on it , gathering some of his saliva before he's prodding at your entrance.

"I'm gonna add a finger now to open you up" he explains and intertwines your fingers with his unoccupied hand , you let out a whimper as he pushes his finger inside slowly and shushes you , kissing your fingers.

"fuck , have you never touched yourself before?" he asked , surprised at your tightness and you shake your head and look away embarrassed.

"Give me your hand" he tells you and you look at him for a moment before giving him your hand, he takes his finger out of your hole and takes your middle finger and his own, sticking them both in his mouth and sucking them as he lathers them up with his tongue.

"Chenle-"you had never seen someone do something like that and he amazes you more as he uses both of your fingers to push inside of your sopping wet entrance.

"fuck, you're so-"the car felt hot and it wasn't because of the heat, you never thought chenle was hiding this the entire time and here you were thinking he was a virgin like you.

" I feel weird"you pant and he licks your clit before sucking the flesh into his mouth, sucking softly and you run your fingers through your hair as you squirm underneath him.

"don't run, let it go" he said as he speeds his thrusts up and your body starts to tremble, your moans get louder until you start to call out his name as your mind goes blank and your hips started to buck against both of your fingers.

His lips return back to your pussy as he continues to lap at your clit and sucks on your folds, your hips bucking against his mouth as you try to grab anything that was closest to you and he hums as you grip onto his hair tightly.

"Chenle"you buck your hips faster as he only intensifies your orgasm and water starts to leak out of you, his tongue slurping it all up and you have to push his head away to get him to stop.

"oh fuck, sorry babe, you just tasted so good"he said and you whimper as you pull on his shirt, pulling him into another kiss and you push him back.

"I wanna make you feel good too" you tell him and he shakes his head, trying to sit up but you're already pulling down his joggers.

"This is about you, not me"he tries again gripping your hands but you still yank down his underwear and lick from the base of his length to the tip, swirling your tongue around it before sucking on his tip.

"Fuck, w-where did you learn that?" he asked and you smiled at him , moving down a bit to lick and suck on his balls as you stroke his length.

"porn"you shrug and he throws his head back, leaning back against the door and closing his eyes.

"I wanna learn how to deep throat , lele"your voice catches him off guard and you giggle at the look on his face.

"take it in your mouth"he starts and you do as you're told, taking him in your mouth and sucking the tip once again as you feel him twitch in your mouth and you hum.

"Keep doing that and I'll cum"he warns you and you nodded, his fingers tangle in your hair and he holds your head still as he thrusts into your mouth.

You hum and he accidentally bucks too deep into your mouth causing you to gag but he pulls back immediately.

"Fuck- maybe this isn't a good idea"he pulls sits his hips back down but you follow him and take him back in your mouth.

"Y/n-" you follow the movements he did earlier and slowly bobb your head along his shaft, he sighs and combs your hair back into a makeshift ponytail.

"fuck, you're good to me, you know. really good."he whispered as he guides your mouth along his cock and pushing you lower to have you take more of him into your mouth, trying your best to resist the urge to gag around him so you hum instead and he moans for the first time as he moves his hand faster.

You suck faster and harder, moaning at the feeling of his dick sliding against your tongue at such a pace and his hips buck up into your mouth slightly , you gag around his length and he groans again as he grips your hair tightly and pulls your head back.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum, that's enough"he pants once you let go and listen this time around, watching as he strokes his wet cock slowly and you straddle his waist now.

"I heard this is the best position for my first time" you tell him and bite your bottom lip but he doesnt answer and kisses you deeply, lifting your hips and dragging his tip through your folds before prodding at your entrance.

He grabs the back of your neck just like earlier that day and you take a leap of faith and lower yourself a little bit , a whimper leaves your mouth and he pulls you into a kiss.

"Move at your own pace" he whispers against your lips and let's you know to take your time, you deepen the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck as you slowly roll your hips to help get used to the size.

As you get comfortable with the first half you drop yourself down to take the rest of his length completely and he holds you against his chest as your body shakes at the intrusion, gasps and soft pants leaving you as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Chenle takes good care of you and plays music from his phone, hands also rub your back and kisses are littered on your temple ever so often.

"never thought I'd see the day that you would force yourself to take all of me, you must like me that bad" you roll your eyes and pull back with a scoff.

"Why do you always have to ruin the mood?"and just like that, it was as if today never happened and you sat there bickering as if you both weren't just sucking each other off not even five minutes prior.

"I insisted we wait to have sex but you couldn't wait, you're so obsessed with me at this-" a groan leaves his lips as you rolled your hips to test the waters, chenle had just reminded you of your goal and you wouldn't admit it to him but he felt amazing inside of you.

"what was that?"you asked with a smirk and roll your hips again, his head hits the window and his nails dig into your skin.

"oh, you play dirty" he comments and you only lift your hips before sinking back down on him, hands on your hips and guiding your movements faster, your hands grip his shoulder and you start to move at your own pace.

"fuck- y/n" Chenle groans and grabs two handfuls of your breasts, a whimper leaving your lips and you place your hand over his own at the immense pleasure coursing through your body.

"chenle-" you start to bounce on his cock as best as you could in the small space, your lips connecting again and his hips lifting to meet your pace.

"you feel so amazing"he groans into the kiss and you pull away to moan against his lips, his hands helping you bounce on his cock faster.

"oh fuck-" you cry out and bury your face in his neck , his hands spread your cheeks and his pace increases as your cunt tightens around him constantly.

"are you gonna cum?" he asked and you nodded, his hand grips your hair and brings you back to his lips.

"Cum for me, princess"you moan at the sudden pet name and bounce faster, chasing your orgasm and cum with a loud moan of his name.

"fuck, I'm Cumming" he pants, sweat trickling down his back and neck as he cums inside of you before collapsing onto the seat, holding you close against his chest.

"fuck, my mom is gonna kill me" he sighs and you looked up at him , eyebrows raised.

"why?"you asked genuinely curious.

"I didn't take you on a date first"he said and you snorted at that, rolling your eyes.

"is this your way of asking me on a date?"you asked , seeing right through him.

"you were gonna say yes anyway"he retorts and rolls his eyes.

"oh , shut up, I'm revoking your sex privileges"he just laughs at you because you both know you were definitely having sex again, most likely within the next 24 hours.

#nct smut #nct dream smut #chenle smut

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wanderlustct · 5 months

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jupiter-soups · 10 months

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guess I should've known from the look on your face

part one of begging for you to take my hand. part two here

pairing: joel miller x f!reader, friends -> enemies -> lovers (kinda)

summary: your tempestous relationship with joel was put to the test after a fuck up on patrol that left you embarrassed and overly defensive. despite every urge to exacerbate the problem, you tried your best to make the most of the situation and get along....mostly.

word count: 7.5k

Despite the ear-splitting gnashing of teeth next to your face and the painful clawing at the raw skin of your décolletage, you couldn’t help that in the back of your mind all you could think was: You fucking moron, you’re going to die in the most embarrasing way possible. Even fear seemed to have left you, as you struggled in the choking grip of the runner in front of you that was desperately trying to sink its teeth into the soft flesh of your neck. All that remained was adrenaline, humiliation, and the sinking feeling that if you were to meet your demise in this moment, it would be Joel Miller, of all people, that found your torn apart frame on the floor. Joel Miller, who had expressly warned you to stay where you were until he returned from checking the back of the building for intruders. Joel Miller, who somehow always made you feel like an incompetent child.

When you had first approached the roadside gas station and small bait shop that was the destination for your current patrol route, both of you had slowed down and pulled out your weapons at the sight of a beat up pick up truck haphazardly parked across the verge separating the gas pumps from the road. This was new, not having been reported by the previous patrol duo. Joel quickly assumed the position of the team leader.

“Stay here. I’ll check the back entrance,” Joel muttered as quietly as he could, still ensuring that he could be heard over the whistling wind from the snow that had been picking up speed since you first departed from the Jackson gates. As the snow crunched under his boots with each receding step, you were seething.

The audacity of this man who had spent the last ten months ignoring you to immediately try and give you orders, you brooded silently. You weren’t even supposed to be here, for God’s sake. It was the unfortunate result of poor scheduling over the Christmas holidays, as well as the skilled persuasion by your closest friend, Maria, that you were even stuck on this patrol to begin with. Sure, it was one of the shorter journeys for patrol pairs, one that only required travel on foot, but that was still a miserable three hours with Joel Miller. Three whole hours of curt answers and second-guessing your decisions. So, the instant he was out of sight, you tucked away your gun into your waistband and folded your arms across your chest, rubbing your ungloved hands against the sides of your arms to try and create some warmth.

The natural instinct in you to piss him off outweighed any logic that you’d previously believed you’d been in abundance of, as you made that decision to ignore his instructions so flippantly as soon as he had turned his back to you. Besides, the truck was clearly empty, the store shutters were undisturbed, and there were no tracks to be seen in the snow that had persistently been coating the floor for days now.

The irritation that only Joel Miller seemed to inspire had clearly blinded you to your next bad decision, as you spotted something through the windshield of the truck. A perfectly intact Spider-Man bobblehead, right there for the taking on the dashboard. Ellie would love that. You exhaled hot air into your icy hands to warm them up as you plodded along to the car, already picturing the teens’ excited face at the impromptu gift. The next few moments seemed to pass in bullet time as you heard it within seconds of leaning into the enclosed space of the front seat. The wind was no longer able to muffle the pained guttural groans.

Grotesque and dripping with congealed blood was an emaciated looking runner, face sunken in and ghoulish. It practically scampered up towards you from the floor of the backseat, moving in jerky convulsions while its teeth bit at the empty air in anticipation. You jumped back from where you had been leaning into the car, arm outstretched for the bobblehead, and your heel promptly made contact with a patch of ice. Your ass hit the ground, shooting a sharp pain through your tailbone that you had no choice but to ignore as you attempted to scramble back up to your feet.

The runner dove head first out from the backseat, the snapping of its jaw seeming to lead its body faster than any of its limbs, giving you the opportunity to send a hard kick directly into its head. Stumbling back up, you were able to grab the handle of your trusty switchblade in the few seconds it took for the beast to reorient itself.

With a quick dart forward, you plunged the knife into the closest spot that would have any sort of impact on its mobility: its kneecap. At least some of your survival instincts were still in place. You made sure to wrench the knife from side to side, a visceral squelching sound being emitted from the tearing ligaments. In a different life the sound probably would have turned your stomach, but now you were just flooded with gratitude that you actually remembered to sharpen the old blade before leaving.

“Jooooeellll!” You felt the scream for help rip out of your throat, and immediately regretted it despite the dire situation. He would not exactly be thrilled at your blatant disregard for his instructions.

The continued effort to stumble back while avoiding any more patches of ice was proving to be successful, until you felt your back slam painfully against the cold metal store shutters behind you. Fuck. You had miscalculated your distance and had nowhere to turn, despite the monster hobbling towards you being slowed down by its new injury. These creatures didn’t feel pain, so regardless of the fact that you could see the white of bone jutting out from the torn flesh of its knee, it continued to progress forward.

Desperately trying to lift your knife from your side while holding the full weight of the beast back with one arm, you were unable to stop yourself from thinking about what Joel would think of you for your mistakes. The blustery air did nothing to cool the heat in your cheeks as you continued to struggle, hating yourself for even thinking of someone like Joel in the face of literal death.

As you were beginning to lose hope, arms shaking from the effort of holding the runner back, strong hands suddenly appeared from behind its shoulders to drag it straight to the ground. You heard a sickening pop as the partially torn leg finally gave out after being heaved backwards at such a strange angle. You were practically hyperventilating, finally feeling time speed up again as you watched Joel take his boot and slam it into the head of the runner, over and over and over again, until all that was left was a puddle of viscera under his foot. The creature was clearly fresh, still more human than mushroom, and pieces of bone and brain matter decorated the floor. You stared, unable to tear your eyes away from the haunting sight.

Joel was breathing heavily as he finally ceased his brutalisation of the corpse, seemingly having decided that what was left of the zombie would probably not be able to get back up. He slowly looked over at you, undisguised rage clouding his handsome features, and he clamped his jaw shut. Any embarrassment that you were still feeling morphed into pure, unbridled shame under the weight of his disdainful look.

“I told you one fucking thing.” Is all he deigned to say. You were glad as you could barely hear him over the pounding in your ears, anyway.

Refusing to give you a second look, he shifted the entirety of his attention to unlocking and lifting the metal roller blocking the door, making it apparent to you that there had been no other threat in the area.

Something like anger and sadness both bubbled up in you simultaneously, and you kept your eyes trained on the ground as you walked to avoid giving him the satisfaction of seeing you upset. As he locked the door behind you both and began looking around the store shelves for something, you pressed your freezing fingers against your face as subtly as you could, trying to physically cool off the burning sensation in your cheeks.

You weren’t a child. You weren’t an idiot. The judgement of this man should not have been hurting you as much as it was, but as much as you insisted that you hated him, some semblance of respect and even care for the man still existed deep within you.

A quick glance up to where he was standing reminded you of something that you had somehow spotted outside, despite the carnage. His boots. Green laces. You were the one to find them for him, ten months ago.

His incessant muttering and pacing were really starting to piss you off. Fine, you made a mistake. Fine, you technically could have died. You were already mortified because of it. Did he really have to keep exhaling so dramatically and making as much noise as possible with each empty crate he moved in his not-so-subtle attempt at finding the supplies that he should definitely know the location of? All you wanted was for him to cease his incessant pacing around the dusty shelves, especially since he started to make deliberate eye contact with you over them to send you withering glares.

“Are you done?” You found yourself asking sarcastically from where you were perched on the long disconnected chest freezer pushed against the right wall. You had been fidgeting restlessly with your fingers since you took your seat, trying to calm the slight shake in your hands from the leftover adrenaline.

He lifted his head up from where he now stood, flipping through the worn pages of the log book on the counter. As annoyed as you were, it was hard to deny the way something in your chest still jumped with each brief moment of eye contact.

“Excuse me?” He asked with an exasperated tone, almost as if each word he spoke was physically exhausting him.

“I said,” You finally hopped down from where you were sitting and watching him sulk, and slowly started to take a few cautious steps towards him. A loud creak reverberated out from the rickety old wooden floorboards with each step as you closed the distance between the two of you.

“Are you done? You know, with the whole I'm Joel Miller, I’ve never made a mistake in my life act.” You drawled with an exaggerated Texan accent in your poor imitation of him, feeling emboldened by his increasingly frustrated look. “I fucked up, I know that. You can go right ahead and relax, you’ve already made it very clear that you disapprove.”

He straightened up in one swift movement and threw the pen down against the counter, hands coming down to rest on his hips. Suddenly you felt like a child about to be reprimanded by a teacher.

“Y'know, you’re bein’ awful ungrateful for someone that I could’ve just left there to die.”

It was so typical of him to insinuate that you weren’t as capable or strong as he was, despite the fact that when Joel first arrived in Jackson, you had been the one to show him the ropes. That is, of course, before Joel summarily decided that he no longer wanted to take instruction from you.

It had been a long ten months since that day, and your relationship had become practically non-existent, if not tense and uncomfortable in the few situations you were still forced to interact in. The bond you had built with Ellie meant that there were many days that you had to see him during mornings when you promised to walk her to the schoolhouse. Joel would be sure to give you a polite nod, his Southern manners enduring regardless of the change in your relationship, to which you would roll your eyes or just simply ignore him.

Maria, your closest friend in Jackson, would regularly invite you to dinner with her and Tommy, usually choosing not to warn you that the older Miller brother would be making an appearance. It would take all of your strength to suppress the urge to cuss Joel out at the slightest infraction, knowing that Tommy would be disappointed at how quickly your friendship had disintegrated.

Truthfully, you were well aware of just how petty and immature you were being. You just couldn’t help yourself when you thought about how good things had been before he made his choice to rebuff you. Your friendship had been easy, and caring, and you had even started to feel…things that you hadn’t ever felt for someone before. Pettiness made it easier to shove those feelings away, even if you knew it wasn’t exactly helping your case that you were definitely, totally, unaffected by his rejection.

You had reached the cracked acrylic counter separating you, and you tried to ignore the way his gaze remained trained onto your face as you approached. The quiet anger was visible in his eyes, like he couldn’t even believe your defensiveness when it was so obvious that you were in the wrong. You slammed a fist straight down on the counter, effectively shutting down the part of your brain that would always lose focus at the mere sight of his deep, brown eyes, angry or otherwise. The sharp pain radiating through your hand acted as the physical reminder you needed to keep your anger burning for him to see, rather than letting it falter under the power of his eyes studying you.

“Please,” you rolled your eyes dramatically, “I had the situation firmly under control. I mean, thank you, obviously, it’s not like swooping in like that didn’t help, but don’t act like I wasn’t a second away from killing that thing myself.”

Joel continued to watch you with an incredulous expression across his face, before he chose to merely scoff in response.

“Whatever you say, doll," he said in that low, dismissive tone that you were well acquainted with, before picking the pen back up to continue writing his note in the logbook.

The trait you had grown to hate the most in him was his dismissiveness. As if you weren’t even worthy of his anger, like you were just an incompetent child that he could be done with whenever he chose. It was a trait that was apparently reserved just for you. No matter what you would say to push his buttons, to even get a negative reaction from him, his response was to shut you down and not engage. It exasperated you that that hurt more than if he just yelled at you.

“God, you are the fucking worst, Miller. I’m not just saying anything, alright? I think most people would agree that it was an accurate assessment of the situation. What, do I need to be so fucking touched by your heroism that I’m on my knees with gratitude?” You paused before starting to stammer as you realised the unintended double meaning of what you just said. He clearly also heard the innuendo, if the tightened grip on the pen in his fist was any indication. “I-I mean, like, you’re not a God or…whatever… where I would need to beg for forgiveness at your feet! I fucked up, and you helped, but I would have been fine either way!”

His face betrayed no emotions, just letting you rant at him. You were running out of steam quickly from his lack of response, and your mouth grew dry as you realised that he really had no intentions of participating in your little outburst. It left you, as always, to be the one making a fool of themselves.

“Well, say something!” You insisted, shoving the book out from under his hand, in an attempt to get him to look up from where he was staring. “Say what you really think of me Miller, say why you always have to make me feel like I’m a fuck up.”

He finally moved to slowly close the logbook and place it back under the counter where it belonged, letting you stand there with your chest heaving in anger that was probably disproportionate to the situation. Joel finally looked back down at your face.

Something in his eyes took you off guard. It felt different to how he had ever looked at you before, almost heavy. In your peripheral vision you could see his hand shift across the counter top, gently tracing his index finger across one of the cracks in the acrylic while his eyes slowly scanned over your facial features. They finally settled on your eyes, and you could tell that any trace of visible anger you had in your face had faded away in anticipation for what he was about to say.

‘You could have died. Y’know that right?’ His tone seemed somehow defeated for even having to say the words.

You shifted on your feet uncomfortably as his eyes remained locked on yours, as if he was trying to make you understand something he was saying, something deeper than just the few words he had used. Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your slightly torn shirt as you looked for words. Why did he seem almost…hurt at the thought of something happening to you? Anger or even disappointment would have been explainable, but this was indecipherable to you.

A loud crack echoed through the room suddenly, as some debris outside clanged against metal shutters from the wind. The spell was broken, as you both jumped in place at the disturbance. You decided to take the opportunity to take a small, stabilising, step back.

The only conclusion that you were able to come to about his statement was that he felt guilty. Maybe he thought that you were under his responsibility while you patrolled together, and that he somehow failed? You immediately balked at the thought of Joel somehow feeling responsible for you, as if he thought you couldn’t handle it outside of the walls by yourself.

“I know that I could have died”’ You swallowed bitterly.

You tap the hand still on the counter against the grimy plastic a few times, deliberating whether you should add something else but deciding against it at the last second.

And yet, as you finally walked past him into the staff room at the back of the store, it slipped out anyway.

“As if that would even matter to you.”

Pushing open the door with some effort, thanks to the rusted hinges, you were greeted with the sight of the supplies that Joel had been working oh-so-diligently at finding, sitting in plain sight on one of two metal storage shelves. The old ham radio that was the reason for you entering the room sat on the small table that took up the corner of the room.

Before reaching to grab the mic, you paused for a second and leaned back against the shut door, taking in a few deep, calming breaths that evaded you earlier. You hated how easily he was able to bring you to anger, how quickly your face would burn with indignation while he was able to remain as unaffected as always. Whatever you had done to inspire this distaste for you must have been unforgivable, given how it seemed to persist enough that he wouldn’t even be able to spend the effort to argue with you.

As you gathered yourself you couldn’t stop your thoughts from drifting back to your somewhat brief, yet impactful friendship with Joel.

He had shown up just over a year ago, Ellie in tow, and you had immediately accepted them with open arms. You were one of the lucky ones, finding Jackson with your two siblings while you were still in your mid twenties. Having almost ten years of safety and community was enviable to many of those who showed up in Jackson. It was your awareness of this fact that encouraged you to work harder and longer hours than the vast majority of those tasked with the safety of Jackson. It was the least you could do, after all, and if you were able to do anything that would spare the added trauma for those that had barely scraped their way into safety, you would do so with a smile.

Joel and Ellie weren’t the first to arrive at the gates hardened and traumatised at the brutality beyond the gates, and you pitied them. It didn’t come from a place of patronization. They were both clearly strong, physically and emotionally, for surviving what they had. But watching the weary look in their eyes at the comforts you had begun to take for granted had you wishing that the world had been kinder to them.

By the end of the first week, Tommy insisted that you take Joel on as a patrol partner. He felt that Joel making a friend could soften him up a bit, maybe even break down a couple of the walls that locked out everyone but Tommy and Ellie. Besides, he teased Joel, who else was patient enough to teach an old man like him the proper way to do things?

You soon found yourself spending all of your spare time with him and Ellie. Between instructing Joel about how to most effectively utilise their horses when facing small groups of raiders, to lounging on their couch as Ellie demanded that he let her get a tattoo for the millionth time, the two became fixtures in your life. As always, Joel’s answer would be a firm not until you’re eighteen to which Ellie would stomp off to the garage, leaving you both chuckling in her wake.

Joel appeared to like your presence. The one-word answers he had given you at the start or your relationship quickly shifted into full conversations. He always furrowed his brow with put-on disapproval when you tried to teach him your lesson of the week, before, like clockwork, admitting that your methods weren’t too shabby. He even regularly took your advice when it came to Ellie, valuing your input that Ellie was old enough to rebel a little bit.

Ellie had been so grateful when he finally allowed her to resume hanging out with her new friends following the weed incident, that she gave both of you a huge bear hug. The smile gracing Joel’s face for the rest of the day made your knees feel weak, especially whenever he directed it at you in gratitude for your advice. The embarrassed laugh that followed when you teased him about his own teenage years, courtesy of a drunk Tommy babbling at you one evening, resulted in you needing to grip onto the kitchen counter next to you for strength.

The third month of your friendship brought with it disapproving shakes of the head from Maria everytime she caught you looking at him for a second too long. You would promptly shrug and make a confused face to indicate that she was the one being weird for even implying that you might have been getting attached.

Family dinners and boozy evenings in the Tipsy Bison continued on a regular basis. Joel was still himself. Gruff and slightly mean towards anyone that wasn’t Ellie or Tommy, but he would laugh at your jokes. Really laugh, in a way that made warmth radiate through your chest and into your fingertips. The elbow nudges that Tommy would give to you in response were a lot less accusatory than Maria’s looks, merely appreciating that Joel had somebody to make him laugh. Ellie had been the one to change him, letting Joel give himself permission to feel joy again, but damn if it didn’t make Tommy relieved to see Joel allow himself that with other people too.

Whenever you would find small things outside the wall that you thought he could use, he would accept with a small smile, rather than immediately rejecting it with a short “I have everythin’ I need.”

Even on days that he wouldn’t be on patrol with you, you would find him at the stables, just coincidentally with an extra thermos of coffee in hand despite his insistence that he just had to check in with the stable workers.

It was these small moments that made you realise that you were falling for him. As much as you wanted to shy away from those feelings, wanting to avoid the potential awkwardness of rejection, you had almost convinced yourself that he was starting to feel the same way. There was something about the way his hand lingered when he boosted you onto your horse, or when he would wrap an arm around you for warmth the second you dared to shiver in his presence.

This delusion came crashing down one summer evening five months into your friendship, as you entered the Tipsy Bison and were immediately pulled aside by Tommy, before you even had a chance to raise a hand in a wave at the table where Joel sat with Ellie and her friend, Cat. Tommy quietly explained to you in the corner of the room that you were no longer patrolling with Joel, effective immediately. He grimaced at your attempt at protest, and even more so when you asked when he was going to tell Joel. The immediate suspicion at this reaction was quickly confirmed when you looked over Tommy’s shoulder at Joel, who was watching the pair of you intently before quickly shifting to look back at the teens sitting in front of him. His face said it all. This was his choice.

You decided to let Tommy off the hook with a quiet, “I understand,” before stalking out of the bar, shoving past the multiplying crowd that tried to funnel inside.

After a few days of trying and failing to catch him alone between shifts on patrol, you were finally able to grab Joel by the arm and physically pull him aside on his porch as he tried to enter his home late one evening. His refusal to even look at you acted as the fuel you needed to begin your aggressive diatribe.

‘What the fuck, Joel?” You asked, unable to stop your leg from bouncing while you stood.

“Did you need something?” Was his curt response, face hard and so deeply unlike the way he would typically look at you.

“Why did you want to switch partners? Did I do something wrong?” The wobble in your voice betrayed the hurt you had tried to tuck away inside of you, and you suddenly felt incredibly silly for confronting him. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me? I was having dinner with you and Ellie literally the night before. And you’ve been avoiding me since then.”

He seemed to think through his response carefully before speaking. The warm brown eyes that you were accustomed to were almost black, and his brows were tightly furrowed as he spoke. “Thought it’d be easier to get Tommy to pass the message along. He’s always been the more cordial type. Didn’ think it needed to be a whole thing.”

He started to unlock his front door, back turning to you as he continued.

“I jus’ felt that things were getting a little too cosy over here. I know what I need to know when patrolling, and I sure as hell don’t need any more hand holding from someone who’s barely known a life that wasn’ all…soft and easy.”

The door opened to the dark hallway and he stepped in and grabbed something from the console table by the door. It was your purple fleece blanket, the one that you, Joel, and Ellie had been sitting under just a few nights ago while watching one of Joel’s favourite westerns. He shoved it towards your hands. “There, been meanin’ to get that back to you. No need to drag this out any longer.”

Your jaw clenched as you stared at the blanket, quickly snatching it from him as the embarrassment flooded your body. How could you have let yourself think that he actually wanted you here with him?

“Y’know what, Joel. Fuck you.” You said with a sniff. You quickly turned and walked away, refusing to give him an opportunity to respond.

After throwing the soft blanket in the coat closet of your home haphazardly, you decided to head straight to the Bison for a strong drink. The first good looking man with brown eyes and broad shoulders that you saw ended up taking you home, in the first of your many attempts to extricate your feelings from Joel.

A scraping noise from the other room brought you back, reminding you that you had a task at hand, and with a click of the button on the small handheld mic, you spoke.

“Jackson, this is the bait and tackle shop, checking in.” While you waited for a response from Jackson, you sat on an old stool and angrily picked at the loose threads hanging from the ripped hem of your shirt. Stupid Miller, making you feel inferior and indebted to him. Not even giving you the decency of fighting with you.

At least a conversation with Alfred, the kindly old man who took the late shift for the radio office in Jackson, always made you feel better. His old war stories of encrypting and sending radio signals got you through many lonely evenings at the Tipsy Bison, and he had become sort of a grandpa-like figure to you.

“Hey there, birdie, we hear ya.” You heard some paper moving, as he shuffled through to find the appropriate area map. “Snow’s getting pretty bad out here, it’s looking like you’re going to need to buckle down and wait it out for the morning. It’ll be a longer walk than usual with the way the wind is whipping up the snow.” No, no, nope. Not happening.

You bolted up and leaned over the table with the radio, as if it was possible that you had merely heard him wrong and getting closer to the speaker would fix things.

“No, Alf, it’ll be fine, I can’t stay here overnight with-’’ You cut yourself off, suddenly aware of how loud you were talking and let out a long suffering sigh. “It’s just. The snow’s not that bad, we’ll probably be fine walking back.”

Alfred makes some deliberation noises, unnecessarily keeping his mic on the whole time as if he thought it would make you feel better that he was actually considering it, before finally responding.

“I don’t know, kid…I would feel guilty if you froze to death out there. I know you don’t get along too well with that Miller boy.” Alfred hesitates once again, before sighing. “I’m sorry, dove, I can’t let you walk in this weather.”

You groaned dramatically into the microphone, rubbing your spare hand across your eyes wearily. With a quick peek at the shut door in front of you to check for shadows through the frosted glass that might indicate that Joel is listening, you lowered your tone to what seemed like a sufficiently quiet level, and continued.

“I just. I fu-” you paused, remembering the old man's dislike for sailor talk. “I made a mistake. Everything's fine, no one is hurt! Just. He's doing that thing where he makes me feel like an idiot. And it just sucks because it’s like I proved him and his stupid doubts about me right. I hate when he’s right.”

“Birdie, you know that you're not an idiot. You do the same job as him, and I can tell you from experience that you don't call back to Jackson with any more issues on the road than he does. Who cares what that silly boy thinks about you? More importantly, are you going to let it get in the way of doing a good job?”

You let a small smile pass onto your face. He knew you well, and your bruised ego for the earlier mishap was already painful enough without adding any more unprofessionalism into the mix. People in Jackson relied on you, and you wouldn’t let a man who clearly didn’t think about you more than he needed to to get into your head.

“You’re right, Alf. If you say we need to hang out here overnight, we can do that.” You made sure to shake off any remaining angst that had uncharacteristically been plaguing you since you first got given this job, and tried to become the person that people in Jackson knew you as. “Just to confirm, we will be utilising the emergency supplies here, so please note down that the food, water, and oil for the lamps will need replenishing by the next pair out.”

You could practically hear the smile on the old man’s face, “Will do, dove. Good night. Don’t kill each other.”

After placing the receiver back in place you take in a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you were about to do. The herculean task of thanking Miller sincerely and being amicable for the rest of the evening was daunting. It practically made you shudder, but you would be lying if you didn’t acknowledge that there was a part of you excited at the prospect. You missed him, as absurd as that was given your history.

With an armful of sleeping bags, a lamp, a couple of pouches of jerky, and a glass bottle labelled ‘Pete’s- Hands off!’ you exited the staff room, trying to appear as confident as you would be on a typical, Joel-less day. You plopped the items down on the counter unceremoniously, looking up to find him now sitting on an old camping chair in the darkness. Barely any moonlight made it through the thin gaps of the shutters, so you focused your attention on lighting the lamp, ignoring the weight of his stare on your form as you did so.

“Heads up,” you called out a moment later, quickly grabbing and tossing a pouch of jerky at him. The trajectory of the throw was mostly aimed towards his hands, but you did use a careless flick of the wrist that would have absolutely resulted in it smacking against his body if his reflexes weren’t annoyingly good for his age.

The lit lamp that you placed on the floor between you and Joel brought the room into a softer state, and you could see that the earlier anger on Joel’s face had at least partially subsided. You dragged an old crate that once held fishing lures and flipped it, sitting down to his left hand side, before opening your own pouch of jerky and digging into the stale meat.

"So," You began hesitantly, lifting your eyes from the floor to where he sat, feeling a pang of an emotion you didn’t want to identify when you found him already looking at you. "I guess I just wanted to say thank you. Properly. For saving me, or whatever. I shouldn’t have approached the car without backup."

If it hadn’t been so awkward, you probably would have been laughing at his incredulous face, eyebrows lifted upwards in shock at your sudden attempt at sincere appreciation. When it became clear that you weren’t waiting to attack again, he finally spoke up.

"It’s alright. Could have happened to anyone, I suppose." He seems almost unsettled at your sudden shift in attitude, but also doesn’t seem to want to provoke you again.

You bit back any part of you that wanted to emphasise that it really could have happened to anyone, even with experience, and instead focused on chewing the tough meat. It was surprising to say the least, when Joel was the first one to speak again.

"Why did you, though? Tommy say something about needing another vehicle?" Joel’s tone was hesitant, as if he felt he shouldn’t be continuing the conversation any further.

"Oh. Um. No, I wasn’t going to check on the car. I just saw a bobblehead on the dash. Spider-Man. I thought Ellie might have liked it." Your eyes narrowed as you looked at Joel, expecting him to start on you again. What you didn’t expect was the short laugh that followed. It was nice, and you couldn’t help the small smile in return at your own expense.

"Spider-Man, huh? What a reason to risk getting bit." He passed you the final stick of jerky from the pouch he was holding as he spoke. A peace offering. With a wipe of his hands against his jeans, he continued. "Y’all are still close, aren’t you?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

Your leg bounced at the use of the term ‘still.’ As in, despite everything between us. You batted that thought away quickly. The friendship between you and Joel had crashed and burned after he decided that he couldn’t work with you anymore, but Ellie had only seemed to latch on tighter. Whenever you pointed out that he didn’t seem to think you were worth getting to know, Ellie would roll her eyes at you.

"Yeah, I guess we are. Is that a problem?" You said while shifting in your seat, knowing that he probably would be well within his rights to tell you to stay away from his child. "Because I can tell you right now that despite her insistence, I’ve refused to teach her how to throw knives, at least not until she turns sixteen-"

"What? No. Should I be concerned?" He cut you off with a concerned look on his face.

Realising that you may have just given Ellie up, you fake a laugh that Joel could have believed if he hadn’t heard your real laugh so many times before.

"No, of course not. That was just a hypothetical." He continued to stare you down, resulting in you giving in more quickly than you were proud of. "Don’t….tell her I told you that."

He gave you an actual laugh at your desperate plea, a sound you hadn’t heard for almost a year. That familiar warmth in your chest and fingertips returned at the sound, and you found yourself chuckling too. Thoughts of all of the times that he would begrudgingly break when you teased him, despite insisting that you weren’t funny rushed through your mind. And how he would threaten to sic Ellie on you whenever you teased him for his achy knees. And how tight your chest would feel when he would look at you over from on his horse while you rode beside each other. As if…No. Nope. Those memories had been securely tucked away in the back of your mind for months now, and you sure as hell were not going to let them out after a year of getting nothing from him.

You forced the smile off of your face in an instant and stood up somewhat abruptly.

"I-uh, found something in the supplies!" The broad grin you plastered on was an attempt at masking your strange behaviour, but, frankly, a smile from you aimed at Joel was strange enough in of itself.

Joel watched as you grabbed the glass bottle and lifted it into the air with a little shake to show it off.

"It’s fucking cold in here. This’ll warm us right up!" You said as you uncorked the bottle and immediately tossed back a healthy swig of the mysterious clear liquid. Yep, definitely moonshine. And yes, definitely strong.

A couple of drinks in, and things had already become so much easier between you two. Not only were you both warmer, in spite of the blizzard on your doorstep that was making your breath visible in the air, but you were both laughing freely.

"And then, he takes the shot and the bullet whizzes by, easily fifteen feet from the deer! The way that smug look dropped off of his stupid face…" You trailed off, cheeks slightly reddened from the alcohol that was far stronger than even the typical homemade stuff back at the Tipsy Bison. Whoever brewed this batch clearly anticipated the need for the strongest shit possible in a bottle small enough to fit in an emergency supply cache, and for that you were appreciative.

You were sitting on the floor,, one knee up and your back against one of the empty shelves that once held fishing rods. The crate you had been sitting on now held your winter coat, inadvisably discarded due to the sudden heat you felt. Joel sat back in his chair, a far sight more relaxed than he was a mere hour ago. He was chuckling at your mockery of Emmett, your current patrol partner who was definitely a beginner at hunting.

Joel’s shadows danced across the dark room as he lightly shook from the laughter, illuminated by the cheap oil lamp that sat in front of you, and you watched with a dazed grin. His presence used to be a comforting one for you, and seeing his shape fill up a room again made you feel strangely at peace. With the gift of alcohol in your system, it was easy to ignore the painful familiarity that came from being with him like this. You bring your chin over to rest on your raised knee as you look up at him while he speaks.

"That boy definitely has too big of a mouth for his own good. I heard him out in the Bison a week or so ago, going off at a couple of the other guys about how he’s always pullin’ all these different ladies." He shook his head in disapproval while bringing the bottle back up to his lips, taking a generous drink.

"Oh yeah? He say anything about me?" You couldn’t help yourself from asking with a teasing grin. Just the previous week you had to turn Emmett down after he insisted that he could show you a good time. He was a handsome young man, but his age and his use of the term ‘older ladies’ when describing his type made it clear that he would be too annoying to even spend one night with. Besides, you were only in your early thirties, and the thought of being with someone that considered that ‘older' made you physically cringe.

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You into him? I didn’ take you for the type that would want a…pretty boy." He says derisively while picking at the label on the bottle.

You were momentarily distracted by the flex of his calloused fingers against the bottle before snapping out of it to respond, "Eh, I guess you don’t know me that well, then do you, Miller?"

His fingers froze in place and he looked at you humorlessly, causing you to awkwardly laugh and acquiesce "Nah, of course not. He just keeps pulling stupid shit to try and impress me. I had to finally put my foot down the other day and tell him that him wasting ammo on trick shots wasn’t gonna let him into my pants."

Joel let out a small breath that sounded sort of like a laugh but not quite, as he resumed picking at the crumbling label and confirming "I s’pose that means you aren't the cougar he was seeing, then?"

A dramatic gasp escaped your lips. "That son of a bitch! Oh, I am going to give him hell next week. No wonder his little buddies have been givin’ me weird looks recently."

Joel laughed for real that time and you were unable to help yourself from relaxing back against the shelf at the sweet sound.

"I don't know why they would partner you with someone like that," he chuckled, reaching over to finally pass you the bottle that he had been holding.

As you grabbed the bottle, your fingers briefly brushed and you sensed him tense slightly. This action, combined with his previous statement, made your stomach feel weird. The alcohol bypassed the part of your brain that was screaming at you to shut up, things are going well! and you found yourself saying, "Well, I guess they did that so I could teach him a coupl‘a things. Some people benefit from a little hand holding, I guess."

You trained your stare into Joel’s eyes, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction at the way his face fell at you directly addressing how you were once partners.

Quiet taps of your fingernail against the side of the cool glass bottle resting in your hand fill the room while he seems to look for words. Something about your statement caught him off guard, as if he somehow didn’t think that you would remember or care about his words. Realising this unsettled him, and you revelled in the glimpse of vulnerability that appeared across his face.

"I s’pose that makes sense." He finally acknowledged, looking deeply uncomfortable at the way you continued to stare at him bitterly.

"I guess it does."

A few more beats passed in silence as you waited with bated breath for anything, an acknowledgment, an apology, hell, even another insulting explanation for his choices, anything, but it didn’t come. You let out a quiet sigh, placing the bottle on the floor as you stood and dusted off your pants.

"I think I’m gonna call it a night, Joel."

He nodded without a word, eyes remaining stuck at the point on the ground where you had been sitting. Rather than waste your time waiting for anything else from him, you turned and grabbed one of the thin sleeping bags that sat on the counter, walking over to the side of the room furthest from where Joel was still sitting and rolling it out in one quick move.

Now that you were far away from the heat he naturally seemed to radiate, the cold suddenly felt a lot more biting against your skin. You crawled into the sleeping bag, rolling to face the wall and pressing your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to just fall asleep and get this confusing evening over with. The last thing you heard before you dozed off was a quiet, defeated sigh from the opposite side of the room.

a/n: nobody look at me rn okay, i'm juST TRYING SOMETHING OUT!!!!! okay. well. this the first fic i've written and it's looking like it's gonna be 3 parts. please give me any kind of feedback!!!

also a huge collosal thank you to @sinsofsummers for helping me SO MUCH and generally being the most incredible human angel creature to walk the earth with endless patience

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #IDK WHAT I'M DOIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGG NOBODY JUDGE ME

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safarigirlsp · 10 days

Text

Forbidden

Hogwarts Professor Jacques Le Gris x Reader

Word Count: 8.4k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Aggressive and Dominant Jacques. Chasing. Implied Age Gap. Student/Professor Dynamics. Professor/Professor Dynamics. Everyone is over 18, as All Readers Must Be.

AO3 Link

Author’s Note: Based on a special request for a sexy Christmas party with Professor Le Gris from my beautiful friend @kyloremus ! She does the absolute best edits around and keeps me absolutely rabid! Edits by her, of course!

More Hogwarts Professor Jacques fics for anyone hooked:

Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire

Dashing Through The Snow

I Put A Spell On You

A Duel to Remember

Fog hung heavily in the winter air, snaking through the cobblestone streets and the serpentine twists of Diagon Alley. Fat snowflakes danced lazily down from swirling carbon clouds and the cobblestones were icy and slick beneath the fresh powder snow. Shop windows glowed with a kaleidoscope of lights and buttered rum and spiced wine could be scented on the frosted air. Christmas Eve was a glittering evening, the kind filled with beauty and wonder and promise. A gust of wind blew down the alley toward you, twirling a flurry of snow up from the ground. You pulled your coat tighter around your body and trotted toward your destination a few businesses ahead.

Ducking inside the welcoming doors of the Leaky Cauldron, you were instantly enveloped by warmth and the smell of drinks and fried food. The bar was more crowded than you had ever seen it, packed to standing room only with patrons out for Christmas Eve. Festive music, a mix of cherry and clubby, almost made you want to dance as you weaved your way through the crowd. The edges of the bar were obscured in that murky shadow that liked to linger on the sidelines, like wallflower shades watching from the wings. You could see figures of people sitting in the shadows, but couldn’t make out any discerning features. You could almost feel a pair of eyes on you, watching you from the shadows.

A wave from the crowded bar caught your eye. A group of four people pressed together at the bar, two couples, waiting for you. Your friends. It wasn’t uncommon for you to be the third wheel in your group, still single after your closest friends had paired up with men during their school years and shortly thereafter. Zelda was now married and Dina, more protective of her freedom, was with a man she had been dating for years. It was easy to see that the man who was supposed to meet you tonight was absent. You expected to hear whatever excuse he had for that from your friends. It was no bother, really. Blind dates were always something of a disaster.

Zelda waved at you more animatedly, fitting for your bubbly blonde friend. Beside her Dina, a stately brunette, must have told their men to clear some space for you because both men moved to the edge of the bar under the guise of having some conversation amongst themselves.

“I can’t believe Gaston stood you up!” Zelda huffed indignantly when you joined them, referring to your absentee blind date. “What an asshole! I wouldn’t have thought it of him.”

“It’s best for the assholes to weed themselves out early,” you said nonchalantly. It was hardly an upset. You were beginning a new job soon anyway, one that would have you sequestered away from the world for most of the year. Starting a relationship now was impractical.

“I agree,” Dina added. “At least you hadn’t invested any energy in him or wasted any time. Besides, now if we see him out and about, we have every reason to be as nasty as possible to him, which is always fun.”

“To hell with him,” you said and took the beer the bartender slid in front of you. The three of you raised your glasses and clinked them together to a round of, “Merry Christmas!”

“There’s more to celebrate on top of the holidays,” Dina said with a coy smile.

“Yes!” Zelda added excitedly. She clinked your glass again with too much vigor, spilling beer over both your hands. “Cheers to the newest professor at Hogwarts!”

Elation and slight embarrassment rushed through you at her toast. You were proud and excited, and still a bit in disbelief that you had secured such a coveted position. After all, it hadn’t been too long ago that you had graduated from Hogwarts yourself.

“To the new History of Magic Professor!” Dina added and took a drink. “Leave it to you to make that class interesting at last. I must admit I’m shocked the Headmaster liked your pitch.”

“Not nearly as shocked as I am.” A wide grin spread across your lips. “I figured that since I had no real chance of getting the job anyway, I might as well shoot my shot and lay all my aspirations out on the table. In my wildest dreams, I never suspected the Headmaster would actually want a course that teaches both the history of magic and the added practice of the arcane spells we lost to history.”

“Another toast! To no lost limbs or dismembered students in your first term!” Zelda teased.

“At least, to no one I like,” you laughed.

“Just think,” Dina mused with a rosy blush on her cheeks. “Now you’ll be on equal standing with our old professors.”

“Ooo, yes!” Zelda said conspiratorially. “Maybe it’s best you’re going into this job single.”

Nearly every teenage girl at Hogwarts had a crush on one professor or other. You and your friends were no exception. It didn’t help matters that several professors were men in their prime, in their thirties and forties, at the peak of their attractiveness. Zelda had charmed her journal to explode with pink hearts whenever she wrote a certain name in its pages. The hearts smelled like roses and would flutter around her like butterflies. Of course, the name belonged to their charms professor, a dashing man with chic mahogany hair, masculine chest hair that peeked through the buttons in his shirt, and eyes as richly green as the forest after a rain. Dina had been so enamored of their quidditch coach, a tall athlete with golden hair, sky blue eyes and a movie-star smile, that she engineered a few nasty falls from her broom just so he would rush to rescue her and carry her to the hospital wing in his burly arms.

It was undeniable that both professors were attractive, but your interest had never been piqued by nerds or jocks. Bad boys appealed to you, or rather, tall, dark and handsome men. Byronic men with a hint of darkness who would be right at home in a gothic Victorian novel. The sort of man who exuded danger and vigor, the kind who had a predatory presence and a devil-may-care glint in his eye. The kind of man who, when he looked at you, he looked ravenously, leaving you wondering if he was going to steal you away to a dark tower or ravage you against the wall at the ball where you could be discovered at any moment.

As schoolgirls, the three of you spent countless hours in the library and common room discussing your favorite literary men, debating which men were the best. Fortunately, there was never any competition between you for your favorites. Zelda could have gallant Mr. Darcy and Gatsby and Atticus Finch. Dina could claim lively Cpt. Wentworth and Beowulf and Jean Valjean. So long as they left roguish Mr. Rochester and Heathcliff and Edmund Dantes for you. The dark antiheroes and villains who you weren’t really supposed to love. The forbidden kind of man. Prince Charming was so boring compared to the Beast, and what prissy prince could eat you better than the Big Bad Wolf? Naturally, the literary epitome of this was Count Dracula, but until he crossed oceans of time to find you, you were left with a sadly more mortal selection of men.

And if there was ever a man who epitomized tall, dark, handsome, and Byronic, it was Jacques Le Gris. When he stalked down the halls, he looked as if he were roaming his family’s century’s old gothic mansion. When he strolled across the grounds in the evening, it was easy to picture him roaming a Scottish moor. Adding to this imagery was the fact that he often undid the top two buttons of his shirt when taking his evening stroll, revealing the thick cleft of his chest. You thought you were suffering a heart attack one morning when you saw him running shirtless near the lake through the mist before dawn.

In coffee and in men, your tastes ran dark, robust, and strong. It was the Head of Slytherin House and Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor who had captivated you from the moment you first saw him. The year he came to Hogwarts as the new defense against the dark arts professor was your last year in school, and despite the number of candles on your birthday cake, there was nothing childish about you at seventeen. The memory of that first day was still as vivid in your mind as the present moment you were living. Professor Le Gris all but storming down the hall in his long purposeful stride, unruly ebony hair dusting his impossibly broad shoulders, his cape swirling in his wake as though it were a living thing. Heat flooded you at the mere memory. Some girls had their sexual awakening in some bumbling experiment with a pimpled teenage boy under the quidditch stands. For you, it was imagining Professor Le Gris’s huge hands running over your body, gripping you so hard in his passion that the bruises he left lingered for days; his long hair falling around his face in sweaty tendrils as he looked down at you, caged beneath his enormous body, running your hands over his broad back and feeling his muscles flex with every thrust into you.

Memories of your darkest fantasies flooded your mind with an almost dizzying intensity. It was unsettling, you had never experienced such vivid, intrusive visions. The feeling of Professor Le Gris’s hands on your body felt as real as the wooden bar you leaned against. The sound of him growling your name in your ear rang deeper than the cheery music in the bar. The rich masculine scent of him overrode the smells around you, and the taste of beer on your tongue was overshadowed by the taste of his skin and arousal.

“Hello?” Zelda snapped her fingers in front of your nose playfully. “Were you listening at all? I asked if you still have a crush on our old defense against the dark arts professor?”

“Oh, Professor Le Gris?” you feigned ignorance, hoping your friends didn’t see the way your pupils had dilated at the thought of him. “I haven’t thought of him in years.”

“Perhaps you can seduce Professor Le Gris and put in a good word for me with Professor Wren and we can have an awkward double date together,” Zelda laughed. “Best we not tell my husband.”

You rolled your eyes and took a drink in an attempt to open your throat back up, since it had closed at the thought of him.

“You’re not a student anymore,” Dina said suggestively. “And rumor has it Professor Le Gris is newly single again after some tawdry fling with one of those jezebels teaching at Beauxbatons. You’re rather lucky, you know? I was devastated to hear that Coach Baldr had married.” She nodded toward her boyfriend at the end of the bar and snickered. “Poor Albert has no clue how precarious a position he has. I would leave him in a moment if that Norse god wanted to take me to Valhalla.”

“Speaking of rumors,” Zelda said, lowering her voice to the quiet tone they once used to gossip in the library. “I still wonder if Le Gris is a werewolf. He has the look, doesn’t he? Those amber eyes, all that bushy hair, and those teeth. The way he looks at you a little too intensely. Can’t you just picture him howling at the moon?”

“My money is still on him being an animagi,” Dina argued. “I agree that he would be a wolf though, like his patronus is. A big black wolf with yellow eyes.”

Unbidden, the image came to you of a big black wolf chasing after you as you ran through a misty forest. Your heart pounded in your ears, almost as loud as the wolf thundering behind you. You inhaled sharply as the wolf lunged at you, sinking his teeth into your neck, pleasurably painful. Your wide eyes shot up as if the bite was real. And met a pair of amber eyes across the room, watching you from a shadowy corner of the bar.

Shock froze you in place, made your muscles seize as though it was Medusa’s eyes you had looked into and been instantly turned to stone. It was lucky actually. Otherwise, you would surely have dropped your beer and made a much more outward spectacle. As it was, you managed to keep a modicum of decorum and show no obvious displays of surprise. Or arousal, even as old fantasies again played in your mind like a song on repeat. You met those eyes steadily, eyes you hadn’t seen in person since your last day as a student at Hogwarts.

Professor Jacques Le Gris watched you intently. The way a wolf watches a fox frolicking unaware. Even the way he leaned casually back in his chair, one long leg crossed over the other, was lupine. A predator at ease, waiting for the opportune moment to seize his prey. Though he reclined in his chair, he still dwarfed the small round table for two. He was dressed all in black, the way you had most often seen him. Only tonight, his jacket was off and his sleeves rolled up to expose muscular forearms. His cravat was undone, the tails hanging down on either side of his shirt, framing the vee of chest that was exposed by the top two open buttons. He looked every bit the swarthy rake, a bodice-ripping libertine straight out of a Victorian penny dreadful. A half-smoked cigar was pinched between his index and middle fingers, a tendril of smoke spiraling from its glowing end toward the ceiling as he casually circled the rim of his glass with his forefinger. His eyes had a fiery glint to match the cigar.

Instantly, you wondered how long he had been there. How long he had been watching you. If he had heard you. Judging by the level of his drink and the length of his cigar, he had been there some time before you arrived. His plush lips twitched in a lopsided smirk as he raised his glass to them, watching you over the rim as he took a drink. Another image intruded into your thoughts. Professor Le Gris striding down one of the many long, dark hallways of Hogwarts. He was behind you, stalking you. And of course he caught you. Grabbing your shoulder, he roughly turned you around and pushed you back against the nearest wall. He crowded against you, towered over you. His hips pinned you to the wall and his arms caged you in, his huge hands planted on either side of your head. He leaned in, his lips hot on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. Every part of him was huge and hard; his thick chest under your hands, his iron fingers gripping you, his massive cock digging into you through his pants. The thought was too real, utterly taking command of your mind, and your body responded. A deep throb rocked through your core along with a melting heat, dripping through you slowly and deliberately like candle wax.

“I need some air,” you told your friends. They looked at you concerned, so you added convincingly. “It’s nothing. Really. It’s just stuffy in here with the Christmas party crowd. You know how I hate being packed in with the unwashed masses.”

You pushed through the crowded bar and all but bolted outside, hoping the cool winter air would have a chilling effect on your rampant imagination. Outside, you walked briskly, feeling the icy snowflakes land on your cheeks. And the way they steamed on your hotly flushed skin. Thankfully, there were few people outside on Christmas Eve. They were all either home with family or inside at a party like the Leaky Cauldron. Diagon Alley itself was nearly vacant, the shops darkened. Darker still and more vacant was Knockturn Alley. You were counting on it as you rounded the corner into the literal darker alley and trotted past a few darkened storefronts.

In the privacy of a shadowy doorway you leaned against the locked door and let out a heavy breath. You sounded lewd even to your own ears. The overhand of the doorway blocked the snow from falling on you and your skin felt instantly hot again. Another image flooded your mind, and you began to wonder if this was what madness felt like. This vision was different than any you had ever had before, but just as vivid. In your mind’s eye you saw Professor Le Gris standing shirtless in a gothic bedchamber with tall arched windows and a grand king bed, perhaps his chambers at Hogwarts or his home, wherever that was. In that omniscient way you know the thoughts of every character in dreams, you knew the thoughts that plagued him. How he had been consumed by the desire for a particular woman for years. A forbidden woman. Jacques would never seduce a student, fuck a student. No matter how beautiful and enticing, and blatantly responsible for his wolfish hunger you were. In nearly forty years, he had never been so captivated. So enchanted. So cursed.

Clear as a florid memory, you saw Jacques lean against the wall, pressing his head to the cool stone. Here, in private, he could imagine all the things he could never do in reality. Like fuck his favorite student. He knew how wrong it was even to think such disturbing things. The thought made him grin to himself, an indulgent, devilishly handsome grin. He pictured your luscious body. He wondered how sweet you smell. He imagined how delicious you taste. When he focused hard enough, he could feel the tight hot squeeze of you around his cock when he fucked his fist. Stroking his cock, he imagined thrusting into you, over and over and over, feeling you strain and flutter when he stretched you around him. The way he groaned was absolutely filthy when he came, imagining he was filling you until it was leaking out of you. He all but banged his forehead on the stone wall when he finally rested his head there, his hair falling around his face in a disheveled ebony curtain, his bare chest heaving and glistening with sweat.

There in the snowy alley, you watched it all happen in your mind’s eye as though it were your own memory. No, less like a memory and more like watching it happen through a window, like a voyeur. Your friend’s statement flashed in your mind. An exciting, enticing thought.

I am no longer a student.

As you felt a slick heat ruining your panties, you sobered for a moment. Just long enough for one lucid thought that was both thrilling and frightening. You remembered another rumor about Professor Le Gris. He was rumored to be a master of occlumency and legilimency. A legilimens could access another’s mind, see their thoughts and feel their feelings. No one could keep any secrets from a legilimens. Not only could a man with such a skill read your thoughts, he could influence them. He could plant any thought, any feeling, any image into your head as though it was your own. He could make you fantasize about him and remember your most forbidden desires. He could make you see what he felt for you, what he always had. He could make all those thoughts and feelings boil to the surface of your mind, make your desires simmer. He could even make you drip for him, almost on command.

“I’ve known your secrets for some time,” his voice sounded from the alley corner. Real this time, deep and hoarse with desire of his own. Jacques Le Gris leaned against the brick wall of the shop whose doorway you had hidden in. “The way you wanted me to corner you in the halls, pin you there against the wall where you couldn’t escape. Take whatever I want.” His pose was casual, his shoulder leaning against the wall, his legs crossed at the ankle. But his eyes were the opposite, watching you with a burning intensity that all but crackled through the air. “Now, you know my secret, too.” His voice was a growl when he added, “I’ve always wanted you. To ruin you for any other man. To make you mine and keep you all to myself.” He pushed away from the wall and stalked toward you in that predatory way of his. “And now, there’s not a damn thing stopping me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, a feeble attempt to cling to some dignity. A thought flitted through your mind – he was prostrating himself before you. In his own way, he was making himself just as exposed as you were. He was pursuing you, taking the greater risk.

“Don’t you, now?” he teased in a gravelly voice. “I’ll never believe you didn’t know how you tormented me. Seeing you in those little skirts, thinking about those fumble-fucking schoolboys laying their clumsy hands on you. Knowing how much more a man could give you. What I could give you.”

“And what exactly is it that you could give me?” You tilted your chin up defiantly to add, “Professor?”

“Knowledge.” He walked to you until he stood so close that you could feel the heat radiating off him, grinning wickedly at the way his proximity affected you. “Regardless of what else I may be, I’m a very good professor. There is a loophole in the Hogwarts Code of Conduct that you might find interesting. Relevant.” He placed his hand on the door next to your head and leaned in close, his body only inches from yours. “Would you like to learn it?”

“If it saves me the time reading through the Code myself,” you tried to sound nonchalant, certain you failed. In fact, you did need to read those exact Codes before assuming your role as a new professor, but you had until the start of term to do it.

“Still a procrastinator through and through,” Jacques tisked you and leaned closer, his entire forearm now resting on the door next to your head, his face very close to yours. “You should know that relations between fellow Hogwarts professors are forbidden. A fireable offense.” He dropped his head and brought his prominent nose near your neck, and you thought he was going to kiss you there. Instead, he inhaled deeply through his nose, savoring the scent of you like some exotic perfume he had long been denied. “But forbidden only when the relationship postdates the beginning of a professor’s tenure.”

His words seemed to echo in your thoughts, needing a moment to take root. Looking up, you met his eyes. Eyes that glimmered like gold in the snowy night. “Relationships that predate the beginning of a professor’s term are allowed?”

“Clever girl,” Jacques said, his lips still near your neck, his breath steaming hot on your skin. “You always were a quick study. The very best and brightest. Did you think I only wanted you for that luscious ass?”

You tried to detect a note of sarcasm, but found none. You took a steadying breath and put a tentative hand on his chest. It was hard as granite beneath your hand. Jacques placed his free hand over yours, trapping your hand over his heart. You fixed your eyes on his, watching for a flicker of doubt when you asked, “What is it you want with me, Professor? Exactly?”

“Everything,” he growled the single word. It was more than an affirmation. His eyes told you it was a promise.

“We shouldn’t waste a moment, then,” you told him confidently. Fortune favors the bold, as they say.

“You read my mind.” He smiled genuinely, one of the very few you had ever seen on his lips. His toothy smile could have looked gawky, but right now, he was the most handsome man you had ever seen. His chest rose and fell under your hand as he leaned in to kiss you. Before his lips consummated your first kiss, he whispered, “My name is Jacques, not ‘professor.’”

“I’ll save professor for when I want you to teach me something, then,” you made your voice as seductive as possible now that you had decided on your course of action. It was easy now that you were confident he felt the same, that he desired you as fiercely as you did him. You eased your hips toward him, arching your back away from the door. Your lips were already parted when they met his, eager to finally taste the man you had dreamed of for so long.

The taste of him when he kissed you, the feel of him when his powerful body pressed against you, the strength of his hands on you was so much better than anything your imagination had ever conjured. It must have been the same for Jacques because he groaned into your mouth, his free hand dropped to your waist and he pulled you against him almost brutally. You wanted to feel every inch of your body pressed to his. Lifting a leg, you hooked it over his hip and wrapped your arms around his neck, using your entire body to pull him closer. His hand caressed your thigh from your knee up to your ass then squeezed you there. It would be so easy for him to hoist you up off the ground, for you to wrap your legs around him, for him to fuck you right now against the lonely door in Knockturn Alley, while snowflakes gathered in your hair.

“I know what you want. I’ve seen your fantasies,” Jacques purred, pulling back from your lips just enough to speak. “I know them so well they might as well be my own. Tell me which is your favorite and it will no longer be just a fantasy. I’ll enact it for you right now, down to every last detail.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing already?” you teased. You were on fire from his touch and you ached with desire. Thinking of him as you had been was its own kind of foreplay, and now it was torment to prolong it. He was hard and his cock rubbed against you through both your clothing, teasing you erotically in the perfect place. But then, he knew right where your perfect places were. And dear god, he was huge.

“This is too tame for your fantasies,” he laughed darkly. “Tell me your favorite. Although, I think I know it.” He kissed your neck, teasing your skin with his teeth and a light nip. “You want to run from me, pretend you have a chance of escaping. You want me to chase you down, catch you, rip your clothes off and fuck you like an animal. Or is that what the girls call being ravaged these days?” He pressed more weight against you, almost crushing you against the door, but the feel of his body and his weight was wonderful. “You’d pound your fists on my chest and tell me to stop, but you wouldn’t mean a word of it. You want me to take from you what has always been forbidden to give me.” Pulling back just enough to let you breathe, he brought his hand to your throat. His hand easily circled your neck, making you feel small and vulnerable, trapped in his grip. He squeezed. Gently, just enough for you to feel how easy it would be for him to truly take whatever he wanted. His voice sounded dangerous when he told you, “I can do that.”

“Yes,” you said at once without even taking a moment to think. This is what you had wanted for as long as you could remember wanting anything from a man. And Jacques Le Gris was offering to give it to. “I want our first night together to be like a fantasy. But I have a counteroffer.” He kissed you before you could make it, leaving you breathless when he pulled away. You took a breath and finished, “I say we play out my favorite fantasy first and your favorite second.” You cocked an eyebrow at him in a challenge. “If you’re game.”

“Darling, I was born game and I intend to go out that way.” When Jacques grinned at you now, sideways and wicked, the wolf practically jumped out of him. You knew he was telling the truth, that he shared your desires in full. That he wanted you just as desperately as you did him, and that he possibly had for just as long.

“Wait, I can’t just run off.” You stalled him with your hand on his chest. “What will my friends think?”

“What do you want them to think?” He slyly tapped a finger to his temple, his message clear.

“It’s enough for them to think I went home with a handsome man and not to worry about me,” you said coyly. “And it had better be true.”

“So long as you think me handsome, it’s true.” His grin widened and he pushed your arms back up around his neck. “Hold on tight.”

You knew what he was about to do before he did it and asked, “Where are you taking me?”

“The perfect place to give you what you want,” he laughed, a throaty rumbling laugh, and held you so tight you couldn’t have escaped his arms if you wanted.

Suddenly, the world blurred around you and spun as if you stood at the center of a cyclone. Your stomach swooped with the unnerving feeling of falling and a boom like thunder rang in your ears. When the world stopped spinning, your head took another moment to catch up. You swayed against Jacques in what could rightly be described as a swoon. For a few seconds, his hard body against you felt like the only solid thing in the world. He held you as you regained your balance and composure, his arms comforting and secure.

You were no longer in Knockturn Alley, or the city at all. You were surrounded by thick pine trees with snow drifting lazily down around you and leaving a light blanket on the ground. The light was diffused softly from the light of the bright full moon filtered through a thin layer of cloud. It looked like a dream and you wondered if Jacques could possibly be such a powerful legilimens that he could be crafting this world all inside your head. But you knew this was real, and you knew precisely where he had apparated with you. Although it had been years, you had been here many times before.

You shook your head at him fondly, appreciating his humor in the moment. He had taken you to the Forbidden Forest.

Jacques was game indeed. He fully intended to give you exactly what you had always wanted– a man of action instead of those of lesser fortitude who hid behind pretty words. Now that the onus was on you to accept his offer, you found it difficult to keep from trembling with nerves. He was so big, so powerful, so predatory. It was more than a little intimidating to think of him chasing you, catching you, manhandling you. It was almost frightening. But then, that was the point, wasn’t it? It was always a fine line between fear and excitement, between a fright and a thrill.

“What shall it be, beautiful?” Jacques asked. The devious bastard had probably read your mind again. Or your trepidation was that plainly written on your face. “Do you want me to play naughty or nice with you?”

“You brought me here,” you said with as much conviction as you could, making up your mind. “Carpe nocturne.”

“I’ll seize something alright.” Jacques sucked his teeth and bared his canines in a wolfish grin. Moonlight glinted off his teeth and glazed his black hair with silver, giving him a wild look. A beast, at home in these woods. He lowered his chin and fixed his lupine eyes on you, looking ravenous and dangerous. His voice rumbled through you when you told you, “I’ll give you ten seconds to run before I hunt you down and sink my teeth into that delicious ass of yours.”

“Ten seconds, huh?” you teased as you took a few tentative steps away from him deeper into the woods, exaggerating the sway of your hips seductively.

“One.” He cut off your flouncing, deadly serious, and took an ominous step toward you. He rolled one sleeve back up to his elbow where it had slipped down, somehow making that gesture look aggressive.

Smiling, you began lightly trotting through the dense trees. The forest glittered all around you in white snow, silver moonlight, and deep pine trees. The air was crisply-scented and cool, but your skin was so flushed the chill was welcome.

“Two,” he huffed behind you. “Better run a lot faster than that.”

Deciding on a path through the trees, you quickly picked up speed as adrenaline flooded your bloodstream. The idea of the chase, of running from a looming hunter, was exhilarating. You found a small game trail snaking through the forest, a pristine white laceration between the snowy trees, narrower than a footpath. The trees themselves reached their twisted branches out to you, as if to offer their help to hide you from the beast at your heels. A light mist lingered in the forest, dancing around your knees and swirling in your wake as you ran ahead.

You felt it when Jacques gave chase. You couldn’t see him now through the trees and brush that separated you, you certainly couldn’t hear him, but you felt him somehow like an electric shudder through your body, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. It was as if the forest itself felt him too, the atmosphere changing around you now that you were actively being hunted.

A thick pine tree was close ahead of you, its lush low-hanging branches inviting you near, offering you a place to hide from your pursuer. Ducking under its branches, you pressed your back to the trunk on the opposite side of the trail. Snow dusted down on you from the branches you rustled, pleasantly cool on your skin. The fragrant smell of pine and sap surrounded you as you breathed heavily through your nose, trying to slow the hammering in your chest.

Snap.

The sound of a breaking branch reverberated through the trees, making your entire body jolt. You strained your ears to divulge more sounds, but there were none to be heard. The silence around you was so complete it was oppressive after the sounds of your running. It seemed as though the forest itself had gone quiet, and the snow offered more insulation on top of it. The trees surrounding you had become an audience waiting with bated breath to see if you would make your escape. Or if you would fall victim to the hunter at your heels.

Surely, Jacques could have caught up to you by now. You expected him to charge past your hiding spot behind the pine tree only seconds after you and run ahead down the game trail.

Slowly and as quietly as you could, you turned to look around the trunk of the tree that shielded you, daring to breach the side of the tree with only one eye as you checked your backtrail. Nothing. No big bad man in sight. Even the fog had settled again.

You returned your back to the tree and rested your head back against it, still scanning the trail. As you returned to face front, you caught movement from the corner of your eye. You snapped your head around to meet Jacques’s unnerving eyes and hulking body looming right at your shoulder. You almost jumped out of your skin as a pathetic yelp left your throat. Jacques growled as his arm shot around your waist, pulling you roughly against him. He wasted no time in sinking his teeth into your neck in a biting kiss, ensuring he left a bruise to mark the presence of his lips.

“Jacques!” You jumped away from him, fueled by reflexes alone. Jacques let you. You took a moment to steady yourself, filling your lungs with air too slowly for your spinning head and rubbing the fresh mark on your neck. It stung, but sensually so.

“I’ll only count to five this time.” Jacques told you as he stepped toward you with a hint of menace and a devilish grin curling his lips.

Hungry lust radiated off Jacques in waves, so thick you could feel it on the air like a spectral presence. And it was all for you. He indeed thrilled you and also frightened you just a little, just enough for that rush of adrenaline to make you giddy. He certainly knew what he was doing, playing this little game of yours, or he had read your desires as clearly as a script and played his role to perfection. Sweat shone on his chest through the open vee in his shirt, a blush tinting his chest and neck. He looked voracious, driven mad by his desire. Jacques awakened the animal part of your brain that civilized society had tried for millennia to tame away, the part of you that wanted to be captured, taken, and utterly ravaged. Jacques was enjoying this even more, his huge chest heaving from the thrill of the hunt. You could see how it sparked a primal urge deep inside of him, probably even more poignant that it did in you. You could also see the evidence of his aching arousal tenting his pants. You were no better off. You had been melting inside all night, it seemed.

Backing away from him, you took a few deep breaths as you prepared to run again, unable to rein your pulse back down from a gallop. He registered your excitement and winked at you, enjoying your game. Laughing, you bounded away then skipped into a run that carried you further along the trail and deeper into the welcoming mystery of the woods.

The trail narrowed and became overgrown as the forest closed in around you. Deeper inside the forest, the woods grew wilder, much as the man chasing you was growing wilder with every pursuing step. You knew he was closing in on you swiftly. You slowed enough to look behind you. You were just in time to see Jacques lowering his massive body as he lunged at you with a growl. His shoulder connected with your waist as his strong arms gripped you, tackling you to the ground beneath him. He was careful with you. He’d never actually tackle you with his full force or risk hurting you. His arm hit the ground hard beneath you, cushioning your body when you met the cold wet snow. His heavy body covered you with enough weight to pin you but not quite enough to crush you.

Laying on your back beneath his sweaty body, your arms flew around him. One hand fisted harshly into his damp hair and one hand dug sharp nails into his muscular shoulder, earning a groan in response. Jacques crashed his lips down against yours in a hard, desperate kiss, his hot tongue twining with yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. He kissed you hungrily, licking into your mouth and catching your lips between his teeth. He brought an enormous hand to your neck, again wrapping around your throat easily, squeezing just enough to make your pulse quicken and pound against his palm, adding to the effect of being captured.

“Do you like making me chase after you?” he asked into your mouth. “You must, since you’ve teased me for years. The torment was almost more than I could stand. Do you know how hard it was for me to resist taking what I know you wanted to give me?”

“I like being chased,” you whispered back. Feeling his weight press down upon you as you kissed, your legs fell open to invite him to settle between them. “But I like being caught by you even more.”

A low moan rumbled in his chest and he grinned against your mouth. The hand at your neck smoothed down to your breast, kneading you and making you gasp.

Moving his hand lower, Jacques’s fingers dipped inside your pants, inside your panties, discovering how hot and wet you were already. You were powerless to resist succumbing to him, your body not allowing you to maintain any coy pretenses. Jacques’s mouth moved down to your neck as he plunged two thick fingers into you, curling them firmly against that spot he knew could make you scream. His fingers worked you into a frenzy as his teeth and lips attended to your neck and throat. He began rutting against you, his cock digging into the back of his own hand, which was still making you writhe on his fingers. Even that light movement caused your body to shift on the ground. The snow beneath you had melted, the ground now soupy under your back.

“This is about to get messy if you want me to take you here, fuck you on the ground like an animal,” he said huskily, pulling back from your lips. “Do you want that? The beast from your fantasy? Or I can show you what I’ve always fantasized about doing to you instead. It’s much simpler, I’m afraid.” He kissed you again. “But you’ll like it.”

“You’ve already proven better than my fantasies,” you said, running your hands over the breadth of his back. “I trust your judgment.”

“Hold on,” he told you as he pulled his fingers from you. He collapsed on you and gripped you in a strong bear hug, but you barely had time to feel the heavy weight of him.

The ground fell away beneath you and you squeezed your eyes shut as your stomach swooped in that familiar way. Thunder boomed around you and the whole world seemed to shake from it. The cool air whisked away from you, replaced by a welcoming warmth. The snow and ice of the forest was replaced by the golden glow of a fire dancing inside a marble fireplace. The sky above you was replaced by an arched cathedral ceiling, and the ground beneath you exchanged for crisp sheets on a king bed. The only things that remained from the forest were the silver moonlight peeking in through the tall, arched windows, and Jacques above you, grinning down at you, the feeling of his powerful body covering you. He traced hot kisses down your throat and chest as he rose back off the bed to roughly shrug off his shirt and work his belt free.

The sight of him shirtless was breathtaking, you felt yourself growing wetter just from that sight alone. His chest was glorious. You had never seen a chest so thick and expansive. His shoulders were absurdly broad and made even more impressive by his fit abdomen. The taper of his waist, the lines of muscle along his hips, even the trail of hair descending from his navel, all worked in conjunction to practically drag your eyes down toward his cock. After pulling your shirt off, you centered yourself on the bed and arched your back seductively. Jacques reached for your pants and yanked them the rest of the way off, tossing them aside as he stood over you at the side of the bed. His eyes glistened like whiskey on ice as his gaze caressed your body.

“As many times as I’ve imagined you like this, you’re better,” he said reverently in a voice that was all smoke and gravel.

You watched the muscles in his arms flex as he undid his belt and pants. Without taking his eyes from you, he unceremoniously shoved his pants down, stepping out of them quickly. Towering above you, standing totally naked, he palmed his enormous erection and let you admire the sight of him, the cocky bastard, watching you with his molten gaze. You expected Jacques to have a nice cock, as big as he was everywhere else. You had imagined it embarrassingly often, but the sight of him still made your breath hitch. It was practically monstrous, and deliciously thick. He would have injured you as a schoolgirl, and you couldn’t be entirely certain he wouldn’t now. Another bit of danger he offered. There would be a limit to how rough he could be with you, and you were thankful that he was seasoned enough to know it.

“If you can’t handle me, tell me now.” Of course, he couldn’t resist teasing you.

In response, you held his eyes firmly as you reached to undo your bra, slinging it across the room to be lost with your other discarded clothing. You raised one eyebrow at him, meeting his challenge. Jacques walked to the edge of the bed, pausing briefly to absorb the sight of you as you lay spread before him, the best Christmas gift he had ever received, before he lowered himself to the mattress and crawled over your body.

Eagerly, your legs spread for him again and he settled between them. Jacques caged you in with his impressive arms on either side of your body as he bent over you, a predator over his prey, and kissed at your navel. His kisses were open mouthed and he lavished you with his tongue. He trailed his mouth down until he placed a wet kiss at the top of your pussy, still covered by the lace of your thong. Bringing a hand down to the thin line of fabric at your hip, he yanked it roughly, ripping your thong away from you and tearing it apart with one motion. His aggressive lust had you aching with the need to be filled. Jacques paused and just admired you, the way you glistened with desire. He lowered himself, wanting to kiss you there, taste you, make you cum on his tongue. But you stopped him.

“The first time you make me cum, I want it to be with your cock,” you told him huskily. “I want to feel you inside of me when I cum.”

Jacques grinned up at you before trailing his nose and lips slowly back up the center of your body as he crawled up into position above you. He paused to inhale deeply at your throat, taking in the scent of you and exhaling in a low heady groan. He kissed you passionately and deep. His taste was smokey and lush, making you shiver. His weight was resting on you now, pushing you down into the mattress. You could feel the muscles in his back and shoulders tense and flex under your hands as he moved, and his heavy chest pressed against yours, a sharp contrast to his soft lips. The unduly thick head of his cock nudged into you, teasing at your entrance. When you bucked your hips against him, he plunged into you in one fluid stroke. He rolled his hips against you gently, giving you time to adjust to his size. Your nails raked his back as a pornographic moan escaped your lips at the pleasure of being so completely full of him. Jacques’s mouth returned to diligently kiss you as the rolling of his hips became shallow thrusts. When your hips started moving to meet his own in time with his thrusts, he began thrusting into you more passionately.

Jacques propped himself up with his hands on either side of your head. Groaning again at an unabashed volume, he pulled back and slammed his entire length into you. It skirted the line of painful pleasure, but he felt so good. He saw your features rendered beautifully distraught by pleasure and kept that angle and rhythm that he knew was driving you in exactly the direction you wanted. You fluttered and tightened around him, your orgasm imminent. Jacques could feel it. Losing control himself, he fucked you harder, pistoning into you roughly. His whole body tensed when he felt the pulsing orgasm surge through you, shooting through him like a current of pleasure connected the two of you. Jacques’s thrusts grew erratic, his shoulders and arms quivered, and he came moments after you on a deep thrust. You reached to his thick, damp hair, tangling your fingers in it and pulling him down to settle over you. He looked down at you adoringly then kissed you lovingly. Though it was unspoken, the emotion was unmistakable.

After lavishing you slowly and indulgently, he rolled onto his back and pulled you down against his enormous chest. Wrapping the arm beneath you around your waist tightly, he held you in something between a cuddle and a bear hug and caressed you with his free hand. His huge body was hot beneath you, his arms radiating warmth around you, and his lips searing as they gently kissed along your hairline. The man was an absolute fever dream. He could keep you in an erotic stupor for hours if he wanted.

“Where are we?” you asked lazily, drunk on the rush he had given you.

“Normandy,” he purred, his hands gentle and warm on your skin. “My home, precisely speaking.”

“This looks like the inside of a castle,” you said of the bedroom with its stone walls and arched windows.

“You could call it that.” He smirked. “Regardless of the descriptor, it will accommodate us well until the start of term.” He brought his fingers under your chin, tipping your face up to look at him. “Provided you’ll accept my invitation to stay with me until then.”

“I’ll need a change of clothes,” you laughed.

“Not for what I have planned,” he laughed too, and rolled back over you again.

Briefly you wondered at the stir you would cause when the pair of you returned to Hogwarts in January. Together. Gossip spread through those enchanted halls like wildfire and you knew a professorial couple would be a source of it for a long time to come. You had no time to dwell on the thought now. Jacques demanded all of your attention elsewhere.

************************************************************************

Tagging some bewitching beauties 🖤

@babbushka @mrs-gucci @mrs-zimmerman @gabesprincess @maybe-your-left @rynwritesstuff @candycanes19 @caillea @cas-backwards-tie @queeniebee @mythrielofsolitude @ghoulian13 @icarusinthesea @reyloaddict55 @heartlight-starlight @clydesfavoritegirl @celiholland @reveluving @reylokisses @queen-of-elves @kyloremus @looking4mymagicshop @lumberjack00fantasies

#my stuff!#my writing #hogwarts!jacques le gris #jacques le gris x reader #Jacques le gris x you #halloween #winter #best #fic #werewolf

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morallyinept · 4 months

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JET SET CHRISTMAS - A Dieter Bravo Christmas One Shot

Summary: Dieter is flying away for a tropical filming schedule over Christmas, and you find a way to give him some First Class Service on his flight.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 5.6K

Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶️🌶️🌶️ "You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/triggers - Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks)/tit wank/oral M receiving/drug usage/Dieter is a mess, as always.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: I really enjoy writing for my sweet, messy Dieter. And Christmas Dieter is no exception. 😎

12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy & Happy Holidays! 🎄🖤

Fun fact; approximately eighty-seven and a half million passenger’s travel through LAX airport in a given year. And each year that number steadily increases.

To put it mildly, it’s a damn fucking busy airport, capiche?

It is the world’s fourth busiest airport and the United States’ second busiest airport after Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta.

LAX holds the record for the world’s busiest origin and destination airport, since relative to other airports on this blue marble floating in the universe, many more travellers begin or end their trips in LA, rather than use it merely as a connection onwards to somewhere better and less congested. It's also the only airport to rank among the top five U.S. airports for both passenger and cargo traffic.

And considering approximately two-hundred and thirty-nine thousand odd passengers flow through this airport during any given day, being singled out and spotted amongst the hordes is always as surprising as it is annoying.

Dieter is used to people shoving their phones in his face and snapping away at him as he takes a massive bite of a vegan chilli burrito, or as he’s pissing over a fire hydrant whilst high on LSD; it kind of comes with the territory of being an actor whose notoriety precedes him.

You’d think you would be able to remain inconspicuous as you trundle on through the swilling crowds of holiday makers and businessmen in their fancy, Armani suits, wheeling your suitcase beside you.

But oh no, that’s asking too fucking much, right?

He’s not bitter about it; more of a casual acceptance that this circus is his life now, as absurd as it all seems when he falls back to Earth to try and keep his feet on the ground with a sharp shunt. And the mishaps keep on mishappening, even though he tries.

He tries so fucking hard sometimes.

But, at times like this, when he’s simply doing what everyone else is doing in the airport for the most part, it’s somewhat irritating to have fans and paparazzi stalking his every move around the terminal like poachers waiting for their chance to capture an endangered species.

Look, there he is, buying wired earphones! Get him!

Keeping his head down, masked behind large Rayban sunglasses, Dieter makes his way towards the private lounge near his gate. Only stopping when he’s accosted, seemingly at gunpoint, by over enthusiastic admirers of his work and surly attitude alike, begging for a selfie.

He tries his best to feign a smile for them, after all they buy all the cheaply manufactured shit with his face on, but more often than not it comes out as a less-than-impressed blank look about his prominently exhausted features.

Eyes that seem dull, peer out lifelessly at the screens through puffy sockets, and fuzzy scruff peppered across his jaw line grazes around his weak smile that is almost non-existent.

(He would read later online, that he was on drugs, hence the tiredness straining around his bloodshot eyes. And they would be fucking right about that.)

Although truth be told, Dieter hasn’t really slept much at all, which is to blame for his current deer-in-headlights appearance.

Staying up into the wee hours of the morning reading through the script, still trying to decide if he actually wants the part or not, despite contracts being signed well over a few months back, with what felt like a gun to his back.

Dieter Bravo is reduced to doing fucking romcoms now.

Damage control, his agent had dutifully warned him.

Punishment for his latest screw up is some stupid romcom set in the Bahamas, with filming scheduled over Christmas, and his wardrobe will consist of jazzy floral shirts for the next few months.

His phone is chock full of voice notes reciting the lines of his character Mateo in different accents, that he’s still not happy with as he listened to them on repeat, whilst strolling through the terminal, until his earphones gave out, and he queued in line to buy some more at the Duty Free.

Mateo. He’s playing a fucking character named Mateo. He grinds down so hard on his teeth he dislodges a filling.

He’d survived the night on coffee to get him through; his frantic night owl tendencies over taking him to the point that he decided to just stay up anyhow and indulged in a blunt or two whilst watching porn, despite his dick pulling limp after a few tugs. Something that happens more often than not as of late.

Well, at least Christmas alone in the Bahamas beats spending it alone in rehab. Again.

But the caffeine and weed is starting to wane and filter out of his system, leaving him slugging like a zombie as he trudges through the airport.

He passes a giant Christmas tree, its twinkly bokeh lights bleeding into the back of his retinas as he squints under the sunglasses.

Dieter makes his way through the terminal with lazy strides after leaving the prowlers behind; the wheels of his suitcase squeaking against the shiny flooring, that at times, feels like navigating an ice-rink.

Once he arrives at the Private Boarding lounge, reserved only for super important executives, or washed out, coke-head movie stars on their last chance, he approaches a woman behind the desk who appears to have been using the self tanner a little too enthusiastically.

“Good morning, sir.” She chirps away happily through an obscenely orange face.

A security officer takes his case and bag, and lifts them up on the belt to be scanned as Dieter empties his pockets and takes off his Rolex and rings. They plink into the tray the officer holds out for him.

The colour of her skin stops him in his tracks as he peers at her over the top of his shades incredulously.

Meh, he’d still fuck her if given half the chance. Yeah. He could do with a nice blow job or something right about now.

Her smile is unrelenting, revealing stark white gnashers that gleam and glare through bright red lipstick. How anyone can be this jaunty at this time of the morning is beyond Dieter’s scope of understanding, but he throws a ghostly smile back at her trying not to stare at her face, bemused, as he’s scanned and patted down.

He hands over his passport and notices she won’t stop touching her hair.

She scrutinises his credentials and looks back at him and smiles even wider; a jaw full of white piano keys, her teeth seemingly unable to fit inside her mouth fully, with a massive overbite going on for dessert.

He hastily rethinks the possibility of a blow job.

“Can I just say, I really loved you in Cliff Beasts…” She gushes, leaning forward to him over the desk.

Dieter gets a whiff of her perfume like a suckerpunch to the jaw; overpowering like she’s doused herself in gasoline. It almost knocks him out like Novocaine. But the flash of cleavage more than makes up for it as his nostrils flare and itch.

“Oh yeah?” He says, elbow on the desk and sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his aquiline nose with a grizzly smirk.

“Yeah. My son really loved it too.” She finishes, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

He ignores her swooning compliment and smiles thinly through gritted teeth. He instantly pushes his shades back up. He has enough baggage to check in, he doesn’t need more.

“You played Gary right?”

“Gio.” He corrects.

“Right. Gio. He likes Gio. Would you sign this for him?” She pushes him a piece of paper and he takes her pen and scrawls his John Hancock over it without any resistance, despite yelling no, fuck off! Loudly and repeatedly inside of his sludge brain.

“Thank you so much, that’s amazing!” She exclaims at him in a high pitched voice that makes his ears bleed.

“No problem, honey.” Dieter replies in a heavy voice as he puts his watch and rings back on.

“Did you pack your bag yourself, Mr Bravo?” Orange face asks, suddenly remembering she has a job to do despite being immensely star struck by this handsome, yet incredibly hungover, enigma standing before her.

He nods once.

“Have you been approached by anyone asking you to carry anything for them?”

“I have twelve kilos of cocaine in my carry on.” Dieter remarks sardonically as he scratches under his chin, as he eyes the security officer who doesn’t find it funny.

She laughs however, and taps away on the keyboard happily with her nails, stealing glances at him as he frowns glumly. This whole charade is already starting to grate.

She hands him back his passport, and he’s blinded again by the searing light from her mouth as she wishes him well on his journey.

“Merry Christmas!” She calls to him and he responds by throwing his fist up in the air, dragging his case and bag as he walks away.

Once in his First Class seat on the plane, he orders two whiskeys neat from the gnarly looking steward who eyes him scathingly, and dutifully reminds him that drinks won’t be served until they're in the air, no matter who he is.

Dieter’s phone vibrates in his hand, and it's his agent wishing him a happy holidays, or some shit.

He replies with the middle finger emoji, before switching it to airplane mode.

Sulking, Dieter slumps into his spacious booth seat throwing the complimentary, soft fleece blanket over his head.

Dieter wakes a few hours later into the flight, the crick in his neck at breaking point and his bowels about to vacate all over the seat unless he goes right now.

He passes the same steward and asks if they have anything natural for a dicky stomach, and she scoffs at him like he’s the self-entitled prick she assumes him to be.

He’s not sure why he’s got the shits like lava coming out his ass; he hasn't eaten anything substantial in the last forty-eight hours as he grips onto the toilet seat with vigor.

Once the stomach cramps subside, and he feels like he won’t shit himself on the way back to his seat, he leaves the confines of the bathroom sheepishly and looking somewhat worse for wear.

Biting back a growl, he sinks into his seat forlorn and weary.

That is until you approach him and touch his shoulder gently.

“Here,” you say to him. “I couldn’t help but overhear you're not feeling so hot.”

“Um, yeah.” Dieter says, pulling his sunglasses off completely to get a better look at you.

You, in your neatly pressed uniform and scarf coiled around your neck. You, with your fluttery, kind eyes and a smile that literally steals the breath from his lungs in a quick snap. So much so that he almost chokes.

You, leaning forward into his personal space to put down a bottle of Fiji water and some Imodium in a box you fish from your pocket.

“Any chance of a diazepam in there?” He asks and you smile.

“Fraid not. Nervous flyer?”

He shakes his head. “No. No.” He reaches for the box with shaky fingers. “Thank you, honey. You’re really sweet.” Dieter compliments.

“Dieter, please.” He slaps his hand over his heart, possibly an attempt to mask how hard it’s beating right now.

“You need anything else Mr Bravo, you just ask me, okay?”

He peers at your name tag and looks up at you smirking.

“Feel better, Dieter.” You wink at him and carry on down the aisle.

He watches you go, his head poking out, neck craning like a Meerkat as he zones in on your ass.

“Well, shit.” He mumbles to himself and the passenger inside the seat across from him snorts in agreement.

“Merry fucking Christmas, right?” He says to Dieter, and Dieter can only but raise his cool bottle of water in agreement.

“Oh. Easy. Here comes Medusa!”

Dieter snorts, trying to hold his whiskey in his mouth.

“Well, we’re going to do one of those things at least.” Dieter smirks.

“I think she thinks we’re going to get drunk and cause a riot. Get our dicks out and piss everywhere. Maybe open some airlock doors for shits and giggles.” The passenger opposite him whispers, chortling as the stony faced steward walks past them, giving them a careful stink eye.

They both burst out laughing like little boys as soon as she’s out of earshot.

He can already feel his head getting fuzzy and floaty; well on his way to boarding the train at crunkered-town. Mix that in with hardly any sleep and you’ve a recipe for a drooling, comatose mess right there.

“Did you know it’s absolutely impossible to do that? Open the airlock door mid-flight, I mean? Air pressure and all that shit, man.” The passenger twists the cap off his small wine bottle and pours it out into his plastic tumbler.

“It’s not like the movies.” Dieter agrees.

“No. You’re all a bunch of fucking liars, making us believe that shit. Fucking shame on you, man.”

“What’s your favourite movie?” Dieter asks.

“Well it ain’t that Cliff Beasts shit.”

Dieter wheezes as he laughs.

“Seriously man, what were you thinking?”

“I was high for most of it. Stuck in some fancy British hotel during lockdown.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“You ever screw that Carol Cobb? Man, I’d love to get me a piece of that ass.”

“Nah. Not my type.” Dieter says, sucking against his teeth and trying not to remember the clusterfuck of his quick divorce from Anika - who seemed exactly his type - after their quick wedding in Vegas.

Turns out she wasn’t an angel at all. More like a crazed, obsessed demon whose PMS tantrums were worse than the Devil’s. Dieter shudders as he literally feels his balls recoil.

“Oldboy.” The passenger says, sipping his wine after a few minutes contemplating.

“Classic Korean viewing for budding serial killers. Are you a budding serial killer, David?” Dieter asks with glassy eyes.

“Depends on what day of the week it is, my friend.” David states.

They both laugh manically again.

Dieter flops back in his seat; his body turned into his head rest, glancing down the aisle, as he and the stranger, David, who over the last hour or so he’s learned is on his way to a conference, talk and drink merrily.

Dieter spots you further down the aisle, tending to another passenger when you look up and smile at him.

“Shit man, I gotta take a piss.” Dieter announces, standing up on wobbly legs.

“Yeah, whatever.” He notices David put some wireless buds in his ears.

“Shouldn’t use them things, man. EMF.” Dieter says.

“Pffft.” David retorts and waves him off.

Dieter follows you as you retreat to the galley and smile again before pulling the curtain closed behind you.

Inside the bathroom, Dieter slaps his face and talks to himself in the mirror.

“Just fucking talk to her, man. Say hello. What, you don’t know how to say hello to anyone? No, that’s fucking stupid… Hello. Hey. Hi. Hi. Hello? Helloooo…? Who the fuck are you man, the Queen? Jesus.”

After washing up, he retreats out of the bathroom and glances down the aisle where the cabin is slowly dimming as the oncoming night swallows the plane; most people are already catching Z’s.

He glances at the drawn curtain and takes a deep breath.

Behind the curtain you’re tidying up the galley, when a head pokes through the middle of it, floating there with unkempt fluffy hair and slightly dilated eyes.

“Mr Bravo.” You greet, with a coy smile.

“Helloooo.” He says, and then chuckles.

“Hello.” You repeat back. “Can I help you with anything?” You query as he stumbles through and tries to straighten himself up.

“I’m good. I’m good.” He looks around the galley. He scratches under his scruffy facial hair, his earring catching the light above, and twinkling at you. “This is a nice place you’ve got here. I like what you’ve done with it.”

You lean against the galley, watching him as he strokes down the shiny metal of the galley doors.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Who? Me? Never better, honey.”

“How big are your hands?” You ask, looking at them as he gesticulates wildly with them.

Dieter looks down and makes a fist with his hand before letting it free into a wide, stretched out palm. Silver rings adorn his pointer and pinky.

“Pretty big, I guess.”

“You know what they say about men with big hands...” You remark.

“What do they say?” He grins.

“Makes their dick look really small.”

Dieter grins and then wheezes again into a laugh. "God, I fucking hope not."

“Let me see those bad boys.” You reach for his hands and he regards you carefully as you step closer to him.

You hold your hands up to his and he rests both palms flat against yours; his fingers towering over yours ridiculously, and you chuckle, amazed.

Dieter hooks his fingers over the top of yours and squeezes, smirking.

“You know, I really can’t fucking stand long haul.”

“Yeah?” You ask as you drop your hands.

“Yeah. Loathe it. I suppose you’re used to it though, right?”

“Yeah, I do it a lot. I don’t really notice it that much now.” You shrug.

“Yeah, me too.” He says and you snort.

You busy yourself pouring him some water and place the plastic cup in his hand.

“I’ve enjoyed it this time, though. I suppose I have you to thank for that.” Dieter gasps as he gulps back the water and wipes his lips on the back of his hand. “Sorry, sorry. That sounded so weird."

“No, it didn’t.” You reassure.

"I'm not creepy." He assures, scratching behind his ear.

You smile at one another for a few moments, just starting at each other’s faces quietly until Dieter hiccups. Loudly.

“You’re kinda cute when you’re drunk.” You say, taking the empty cup from him.

“Cute enough that you'd want to have sex with me?” He asks, brazenly.

You scoff and laugh and then look at him biting your lip. “Are you drunk enough that you can’t get it up?”

You watch as he shoves his hand down the front of his pants and gives himself a squeeze. Oh yeah. He’s hard. “Not yet.”

“So come on then.” You tempt him.

“Here? Right here?” He baulks as he watches you pull your panties down from under your skirt and tuck them in his pocket. “Fuck!”

“Why not, it's kinda hot, right?”

“Fuck yeah it is-” He’s silenced mid-sentence by your lips pressing onto his, and taking him by complete surprise.

He simply leans forward and plants one on you; his body in the driving seat, and he can only look on from the back seat as he careens into you, right through the windshield.

Dieter pulls away, hovering in front of your face, groaning as your hand cups his cock over his pants, and biting his bottom lip as he pants hungrily.

You kiss him again with a slick smile, and his big hands find their way onto your face. His fingers stroking delicately and feeling your skin under the pads of them and trying to convince himself that you’re real.

“You are real, right?” He gasps as you suck on his bottom lip. His lips are soft and inviting and so full - especially that damned bottom one. Squidgy like marshmallows, so wet and juicy.

“I’m as real as you want me to be, baby.” You growl sucking his lip harder.

“Mmph, fuck…” He gasps. "It's just, this one time, I got really high and fucked a woman that lived in my mirror. This is happening, right? We’re going to have sex?”

“Yes, Dieter. We’re going to have sex. And I don't live in your mirror.”

“And you definitely want to have sex with me?” He checks. “You’re not drunk, are you?”

“No,” you giggle.

"Good, good." He kisses you again, groaning wildly.

It suddenly gets extremely hot, like the plane has just dive bombed right into the sun and Dieter feels it on the back of his neck and down his back.

You can hear murmuring behind the curtain and it’s the familaral snark of the stony faced steward. You quickly take his hand and seal you both inside the nearest toilet cubicle.

You flick the latch to lock the door behind you; his hands are reaching for your waist as you kiss him hungrily on the lips.

You both clatter backwards; the back of your calves hitting the base of the toilet and him keeping you steady as you lose your balance for a second.

You’re both gasping around your kiss; you’re tugging at his oversized cardigan, and running your hands up under his t-shirt, feeling his paunchy stomach underneath your fingers as they run amok over his skin.

His hands are doing the same, squeezing around your hips and under the back of your shirt before he comes to the front and begins to unbutton it slowly.

You break away from his lips; looking down at his fingers shaking profusely as he does it, his tongue out concentrating on the task.

“Are you okay?” You ask, tilting his chin up to you.

“Yeah. Um…” he drops his hands and sighs. “It’s just, you’re so fucking hot. And I'm... not.”

"Yes you are."

He shakes his head. "I'm a mess, baby."

"A hot mess." You say.

He looks as if he’s about to cry when he stares at your chest as you open your shirt to reveal your bra to him.

Imagine his excitement when it’s one that hooks together in the front and not the back.

“Oh my God, your tits are fantastic!” Dieter wheezes from the back of his throat, beside himself. “May I?”

You nod, giggling, as he gulps and runs his hands all over your breasts, squeezing and massaging them, before slipping his fingers around the clasp and freeing you.

He begins feeling out your nipples that are wide awake under his rough fingertips; pinching them and twisting them gently. Teasing them and causing the utmost carnage between your legs as he does it.

He can only stare like a dimwit as they heave out; the teenage boy in him having a fit as though he’s seeing mammary glands for the first time in his life.

Look, Dieter. Boobies... heheheee!

You gasp and throw your head backwards as his digits run amok over those erect buds, and he kisses and nips at your neck avidly like a hungry vampire.

You reach out your hand and steady yourself on the sink as he kisses down your collarbone towards your cleavage. He sucks on one of your nipples and you can see him doing it in the grimy mirror too.

Dieter Bravo has my fucking nipple in his mouth! Jesus Christ…

His mouth is suckling enthusiastically, as he groans and pants, and the pull of it, his tongue flicking against it, feels incredible, like electric tingles pulsing through them as he nips on them gently between his teeth.

A delicious throbbing begins to take place inside your clit, making it ache profusely, and your pussy is having a panic attack and breathing into a brown paper bag - completely over-hyped and overwhelmed.

“Mmm.” You whine.

“Are you enjoying that?” He asks, eagerly. "Is it nice?"

“Yeah, baby. Feels so good when you play with my tits.”

“Fuck,” he gulps, giddy and starts to grin.

You smirk, biting your lip.

"What else can I play with?" Dieter asks, giddy somewhat.

You run your hands through his already messy hair, tugging it lightly, as he does the same heinous act to the other nipple, and looks up at you with blown mesmeric eyes as he murmurs contentedly around your nipple.

“Mmm, Dieter.” You mouth to him. “I need you to fuck me.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm, I need to feel your big, fat cock fill me up, baby.”

“Want me giving it to you?”

“Yeah. Want everyone to hear you make me scream as you pump me full. Let me go back out there with your come dripping down my legs.”

“Oh… Shit. You're naughty, aren't you?" He grins.

"Bad to the bone, sweetie." You smirk.

He then kisses slowly up your clavicle like a snake slithering towards you, hypnotising you in the process with wide pupils and a crooked grin, heading back towards your mouth where he swamps you again.

“I-I need a minute.” Dieter says, pulling back.

You reach down and grope his swollen cock over his pants, rubbing and jerking slowly as you swallow his moans that intensify around your tongue as you pump.

He whines, shuddering, hips bucking into your grip enthusiastically before stalling with a heavy grunt.

“You okay?” You query, bemused.

“Yeah I just… I might’ve…” he looks a little sheepish and embarrassed.

“Did you just come?” You ask, stroking through his greying, fluffy hair and he pushes his forehead to your chest and groans loudly.

“Hey, it's alright. It’s kinda hot actually.”

“Is it?” He winces.

He pulls his pants down and his thick cock is sticky and covered in himself. He's still half hard and you can work with that.

You push him back gently so he’s sitting on the toilet, seat down. “Show me.”

"What?"

"Show me the mess you've made." You prompt.

“I’m sorry… this doesn’t usually happen.” He lies. It happens all the time, especially when he’s half cut. Which is, you know, all the time.

“Sssh, baby. Let me take care of you.” You crouch down between his legs, pick up his softening cock and place it between your tits.

"Can I suck it?" You ask licking your lips.

“Jesus Christ…” He groans, watching as you pump him with your breasts.

It squelches, his creamy ejaculate in the deep trench of your cleavage as his flush cock is massaged slowly back to life by your mounds.

"Fuck..." he groans, watching you.

"Oh, I would love you to, baby." Dieter gasps.

He holds his crumpled t-shirt up, revealing more of his soft tummy spread and slotted belly button, as you run your tongue up the hard length of him.

He whines out as he slides fully into your mouth. His hands are thrown up on the back of the wall behind the toilet, pressed flat as you hoover up his cock with intense grit.

He grunts out a fantastic noise that gives your scalp prickles as he fills your whole mouth with his length and girth, fully hard again.

His rolling eyes search up to the ceiling as his hips move in time with you as you slurp him up and down.

You’re taking him in further with each suck, and he can feel himself at the back of your throat, tickling against your uvula and gag reflex.

“Okay, we need to fuck or I’m going to come again.” He pants. “Please.”

“You’re cute when you beg, Dieter.” You say, tonguing over his head.

“I’ll get on my fucking knees on this filthy piss stained floor if that’s what it takes!"

You pull him up on his feet as the intense, wondrous feeling travels the length of his cock.

He slips his hand between your legs and slides his fingers across the slit of your pussy; feeling how wet you are before he pushes two of them up inside you. Although, wet is an understatement; it’s like a tsunami has just hit.

Swirling his thumb over your clit, you gasp, feeling those fingers, thick and wriggling, in the slick oil inside your fleshy walls. You moan out as he begins sucking on one of your nipples again.

“Fuck, you’re soaking all over my fingers.” He groans as he pushes them in you deeply.

"Mmm, it's all you, Dieter." You see him blush and it makes you soar. "You're so hot."

"I am?"

"Yeah. So fucking hot."

The feel of his fingers furrowing inside you makes you dizzy and weak. You reach for his cock and pump him slowly inside your hand.

His mouth is like an engulfing vortex that you’d happily dive into, and be cast off into oblivion forever. A deep choking is felt in your throat as you gasp out around his pert lips, struggling for breath.

"Let me fuck you, how shall we do it?" He whines.

You smirk and simply sit him down on the lid again, straddling him and sliding down onto that bulging cock of his.

You both groan out as you slip yourself over him and begin riding him slowly and deeply.

He utters out a deep, guttural groan inside your ear.

Despite him being a bit of a mess, his cock is impressive as you feel it bottom out.

“Fuck, Dieter!” You gasp as he utterly fills you up to the point that you’re the fullest you’ve ever been. That feeling you get when you’ve had way too much fucking pie and if you move you might split and spill out the sides.

"Damn, you have a big cock, baby." You grin at him.

“Oh God, this pussy is so tight.” Dieter whines.

You’re snug, tight fitting around him; pinching slightly, but you will yourself to sit all the way down on him - wanting every inch of him - and rocking your hips around him in a steady rhythm. Round and round, and up and down…

“Shit…” He puffs and you can see him clench.

“Don’t come, Dieter.” You warn gently. You’re nowhere near close yet.

He blows out through his cheeks. “I… fuck. Feels too good.”

“Don’t. Come. Dieter.” You repeat, working a little harder, feeling your clit rub deliciously in the bundle of fuzzy hairs at the base of him.

“Please…” He whines.

You shake your head as you whine.

“Please baby, let me fill you up.”

Dieter utters out a small groan again to you through his puffy lips. You can’t abnegate yourself away from biting down hard on the bottom one, and sucking it between your lips.

“Not yet. Hold onto it.” You instruct.

"I can't, fuck-"

You pinch his nipples, hard. "Yes. You can. Hold it, Dieter."

“Ah, ow!” He whines as you feel his fingers dig into your hips.

He smirks at you as you kiss him again as you wind yourself up and down on him whilst he grabs and gropes at your ass and moves you around on him too.

The sounds from the wetness of your cunt sliding up and down on his cock can be heard around the toilet cubicle like fine music, your mutual gasps leading the vocals.

“Does that feel good?” Dieter croons to you as you whine and mewl around him. “My cock inside you, hmm? Am I doing good, baby?”

You nod and smile at him. “So fucking good.”

He kisses your breasts again as you lean back; your hands on his broad shoulders fisting inside the wool of his cardigan. His own large hands supporting your back.

After a few minutes, he stands up with you and sits you on the cold metal sink, pushing his dick up into you faster.

“Aah fuck, Dieter!” You cry out and then realise that it’s probably too loud and wonder if anyone in the cabin has heard it, as you both enrol in membership at the Mile High Club.

Dieter fucks you harder; moving in and out of your pussy with the rolls of his hips like he's winding a hula hoop around his waist; looking down and watching himself do it too. Seeing your sticky juices coating his dick in a slick honey and making it squelchy good.

“Fuck me harder, Dieter. Don’t come.” You rasp to him.

“You want it hard?” He wheezes. “Turn around, baby.”

He’s pushing you forward as far as the confined space will allow you to go over and enters you from behind.

“Oh shit!” You pant as he fucks you harder at your command.

“Like that? Is this how you want it?"

You can feel yourself soaring; that intense, pleasurable moment where all the building reaches its peak and starts to spill over. Unwinding like a coil, snapping back like an elastic band; a nuclear bomb destroying a small city.

He can see your face in the mirror; lips parted through your pants, eyes staring back at him as he fuck you into high Heaven. At thirty-seven odd thousand feet, you’re not that far off from it, to be fair.

"Oh God... fuck, baby! I can't hold on much longer!" He pants. "Your pussy feels too good."

“Ah yeah!” You mewl through a long, drawn out gasp, coming hard as fuck. “Come for me, Dieter!”

Dieter’s orgasm face is legendary; eyes rolling so far into the back of his head like he’s been possessed by demons. His mouth is making a small O as he sucks in hisses and breathes out grunts slowly through his bliss.

“Fuck, I’m coming, baby!” He splashes out inside of you, filling you up with that hot, salty goop, and it’s already beginning to drip out the sides of your pussy as you come around him. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Waiting for the delicious cream pie when he slides out of you and watches as his ejaculate sluices down your cunt.

A few slow thrusts and twitches as he empties out, and Dieter leans forward and trails tired kisses up the side of your neck; coming down from the high and feeling that his legs are now shaky, unsteady stalks.

“We just had sex,” you can hear him smirk and chortle inside your ear.

“We did.” You agree.

“We just had fucking hot sex in the sky.” He sighs and his weight feels heavier against you.

You giggle as he nuzzles into you.

"You're really beautiful, fuck..." he says, gazing at your reflections in the dull mirror.

He reaches into his pocket for your panties after you clean yourselves up.

"So are you." You kiss his scruffy cheek as he blushes.

"No. Really?"

You nod. "A beautiful disaster."

He hums into your shoulder and plants a row of smooches there to bloom into something pretty.

“Keep them. Early Christmas present.” You say.

He kisses over your face eagerly and growling as you giggle again.

"I like that sound." Dieter says into your face.

"I like some of the sounds you make, too." You smile, kissing on his nose.

“Ladies first…” He gestures to you after a few more minutes of canoodling.

“You just want to look at my ass.” You whisper to him as you unlock the door.

“It’s like you know me so well already,” Dieter remarks, smirking.

He simply grins at you, and you’re not wrong. He remembers squeezing those cheeks as you rode on his cock and it makes him giddy at the recall.

Dieter slips back into his seat breathing out and relaxing.

You slip out of the toilet cubicle first, making sure the coast is clear, before he follows a few minutes afterwards. Taking some time to adjust his messy hair in the mirror and smirking to his own reflection.

You called him beautiful, and he can't stop his pink cheeks from pulling tight into a jaw aching beam.

“Must’ve been some fucking piss, man.” David says from the adjacent seat.

Dieter simply grins wider.

The plane touches down at Lynden Pindling International Airport in the Bahamas a few hours later, with a bumpy landing that rattles Dieter’s stomach to the core.

He’s slept a little, and that makes him feel worse somehow. At this point, he certainly looks like he’s been snorting drugs all night as he blinks through wretchedly dry eyes.

With his bag, he makes his way down the aisle towards the open cabin door, but lingers as he spots you in the galley.

You turn to see him, bent over as you zip up your case and he’s staring at your ass smirking, knowing that your panties are still bunched up in his pocket.

“So…” He says, sunglasses back on and fumbling around his words.

“So.” You echo, standing upright. “Don’t be weird, Mr Bravo.” You muse and he laughs.

“I’m not. Sorry. Sorry.”

After a few, heavy lingering moments you speak first. “I guess this is goodbye, then?” You say.

“I guess.” Dieter says, with a frown brewing, adjusting his bag on his shoulder and pouts.

“Listen, this is dumb and I’m expecting you to say no, but I have a two day layover before I have to fly back and I’m staying at-”

“Yes!” Dieter interrupts.

You baulk.

“I mean, carry on.” He says, smiling.

You laugh. “I was going to suggest maybe you’d wanna buy me dinner?”

“Well, we can start with dinner. And more sex.” You clarify.

“Sure. I’d like that.” Dieter nods, smiling. “I’d kinda do anything for you right now.” He mumbles bashfully.

"Anything, huh?" You quip with a smile.

"Anything." He reiterates, nodding.

“Fuck. Yeah. Definitely more sex.” He nods like his neck is broken and can’t stop.

He walks down the steps off the plane after you, and Dieter spots another Christmas tree twinkling in the terminal, and thinks that this might be a good fucking Christmas after all.

12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal x reader #dieter bravo x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo the bubble #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #christmas stories #jett's writing

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lilacmingi · 4 months

Text

ELF IN TRAINING

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Elf!Mingi x elf!fem reader

Word count: 3,430

Note: THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVES! Yunho, Yeosang, Mingi, and Wooyoung’s are my absolute favorites. They’re the ones I really got immersed in while writing them and I just love the plots. I’m very proud of them 🥹

The North Pole was covered in snow, the usual weather for Santa's Headquarters. Large, fluffy snowflakes came down in a flurry, adding to the inches of white snow that blanketed the ground.

You were hard at work in the workshop, painting and assembling toys. Christmas was only a month away and it was crunch-time at Santa's workshop. Every elf was hard at work preparing for the upcoming holiday. The sound of hammers tapping and the low hum of the assembly line machines were the only thing that could be heard in the building as every elf stayed laser focused on their job.

Mingi, a new elf in training, walked across the workshop with a box of completed toys in his hands. He was heading to the room next door where the toys were being collected. As he proceeded towards his destination, his head collidided with the top of the doorframe, a thud sound following after. You instinctively winced at the sight. Mingi was always bumping his head on the doorway. Unlike other elves, he was rather tall and towered over everyone. The average height of elves was around five feet, Mingi was six feet tall.

You hated seeing him always hurting himself on the doorframe and wondered why no one had done anything about it. At this rate he would give himself a concussion if nothing was done about the low doorframe.

A chorus of chuckles from nearby elves could be heard after Mingi's little incident. You abruptly abandoned your work station and hurried after Mingi, calling for him. He turned around, looking down at you with bright eyes and an expectant expression.

"Are you okay?" You asked.

A soft smile spread across his face.

"I'm fine. Thanks, Y/n."

"You don't need an ice pack or something?"

He shook his head. "I'm kinda used to it."

You gave him a sympathetic look.

"You should get back to work. Christmas is coming soon." He told you.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be just fine.”

As much as you didn't want to, you turned around and hesitantly made your way back to your station, picking up where you left off.

It was difficult to focus. All you could think about was Mingi and the way everyone always laughed at him. It made you angry. There was no reason for it. He's an elf just like the rest of you.

Lunch was called and you were able to step away from your work and take a break. You congregated in the cafeteria with the other elves where you got a slice of extra sweet cake and a mug of hot chocolate. As you made your way to your seat, you overheard a few comments from some of your fellow workers.

"Did you see Mingi?" Chuckled one elf. "He bumped his head on the doorframe again. That klutz."

"He's such a giant, no wonder he's always hitting his head."

"He's a weirdo."

"He's a misfit."

"He doesn't belong here."

"He's not an elf, he's a giant."

The comments angered you immensely. Everything in you screamed to speak up and say something, but you fought it, pushing that urge down deep. You didn't want to start something and cause a scene. However, your temper got the best of you and pushed aside all reason. Your grip tightened on your mug of hot chocolate as you harshly spun around to face the chattering elves.

"That's not very jolly of you to be saying such hateful things about a fellow elf." You punctuated the last word. "Surely, you know Santa is fully aware of what you're saying now."

None of them said a word.

"That's what I thought." You huffed, turning away.

Santa knows everything and they still had the nerve to say such rude things about Mingi. It was shameful, really.

You then spotted Mingi sitting alone at the end of a table, rubbing his forehead. You immediately set your sights on him, making your way over without hesitation.

"Hi." You greeted, taking a seat across from him.

"Hi."

"How's your head?"

"It's okay." He reached up to lightly rub it again. “Hurts a little."

"I'm sure it does. Are you sure you don't want an ice pack?"

"I'm sure. Thank you, though. I appreciate you always checking up on me."

You smiled. "I just want to make sure you're alright."

"Thank you for that. It's nice to know someone cares."

"So, it's been a few weeks since you joined the team. How are things?"

"Good." He nodded with a smile. "Work is easier and more enjoyable than I though. Turns out I'm pretty good at assembling toys. I'm the fastest elf in my group." He beamed proudly.

"That's great to hear. It seems you're fitting in just fine."

"Well, almost."

"Almost?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a whole foot taller than everyone here." He stated.

"I have noticed, but it doesn't bother me."

"It seems to bother everyone else. They all stare at me and whisper things."

"You just need to ignore them. They're not worth your time. Santa should give them more work since they seem to have time to make hateful comments about you for no reason." You huffed, feeling your temper rising again.

"What if I'm not a real elf?" Mingi asked unexpectedly, his tone weaker than before.

"What? That's nonsense. Of course you're a real elf."

"But what if I'm not? I clearly don't fit in."

You abruptly reached over and grabbed hold of his ear, giving it a good tug.

"Ow!" He yelped.

"Is that proof enough?" You inquired, quirking a brow.

"I guess so." He muttered, rubbing his ear with a pout.

"Mingi, you need to stop doubting yourself. You're an elf just like the rest of us."

"But I'm different."

"Unique." You corrected. "I think your height is your charming point."

"My charming point?" He asked, looking at you with round, glittering eyes.

"Yes. It's what makes you, you."

His face seemed to soften a bit after you told him that. He appreciated your words greatly, more than you would know. You and Santa seemed to be the only ones who treated him as an equal and not as some freak.

You stayed and kept Mingi company throughout lunch, sharing funny stories about past mishaps at the workshop. His heart fluttered in his chest whenever you laughed at your own story. The giggles spilling from your lips made Mingi feel light as air, and the way your eyes crinkled up when you smiled made him grin himself. Your happiness was contagious.

He was a bit of a slow eater and yet you stayed with him the whole time, which only made his growing attraction towards you bloom even more.

That night, you laid in bed staring at the ceiling. You really needed to get some rest, as you knew you'd need the energy for work the next day. Christmas was quickly approaching and everyone needed to be at peak performance, but you couldn't seem to stop thinking about Mingi. Yes, he could just duck to get through the doorway, but that's an inconvenience, plus he seems to forget how short the doorways are.

Unable to sleep, you threw the covers off and changed into your uniform, hurrying out of your room. With a mission on your mind, you trekked through the snow and to the workshop, making your way up the large staircase that led to Santa's office. You gave a soft knock on the oak wood doors and waited for an answer.

"Come in." A voice bellowed from the other side.

You slowly twisted the doorknob and stepped into the room.

"Y/n, what on earth are you doing here? It's nearly 1 AM.”

"I could ask you same thing." You chuckled.

"Oh, you know, checking it once, checking it twice." He responded with a smile as he glanced down at the long list that stretched across his desk and spilled onto floor. "But seriously, what are you doing awake at this hour?”

"I couldn't sleep, sir." You answered honestly.

"Why is that?" He inquired, concern lacing his warm voice.

"It's Mingi. He's always bumping his head on the doorframe in the workshop that leads to the stock room." You informed him.

"Oh no." He frowned.

"It pains me to keep seeing him hit his head, so I was wondering if I could make some adjustments to the doorframe."

"I'm sure I could make time to do it. You don't have to take that on all by yourself."

"Sir, with all due respect, I want to do it on my own. Plus, you're already very busy."

"Are you sure?" Santa asked.

"Yes. I can handle this."

"Very well."

"Thank you, sir."

"Of course. This is very nice of you, Y/n."

You gave him a soft smile before exiting his office, bounding down the stairs, and hurrying over to your work station, grabbing an armful of tools. There was no time to waste.

Mingi got out of his bed that was thankfully the right size for him. Santa was kind enough to make some accommodations for him like getting a larger bed and furniture so he could. The elf stretched his stiff muscles before shuffling over to his closet to grab his uniform.

He made his short commute across the small North Pole village, trudging through the large amount of snow that was constantly covering the ground. He stepped into the workshop, ready to start his day. To his surprise, the shop was completely empty. Mingi simply brushed it off, going to his work station where he found a box of toys that he forgot to put into the stock room the day before. He lifted the box and carried it across the shop. As he passed the entryway to the stock room, he instinctively flinched, his head being thrust backwards by a phantom force.

The pain he had anticipated never arrived, causing him to stop for a moment and turn around to look at the doorway he just walked through. To his surprise, it appeared to be reconstructed and there was now a circular head shape at the top of the doorway.

Mingi was quick to set the box of toys down, hurrying back into the workshop where elves were starting to come in to begin their work day. His eyes searched desperately, wanting to find out who had done this. His first thought was Santa. He was about to head up to the big man's office when he spotted you asleep at your work station, tools strewn across the desk. As he moved closer, he noticed sawdust all over your work space, your clothes, and even stuck in your hair.

A fond smile painted Mingi's features as he gazed down at you, a warm and fuzzy feeling blossoming in his chest.

You did that for him?

You began to stir, which caused Mingi to scurry off, not wanting you to see him. Once he got to his work station, he watched you lift your head, your eyes going wide at the mess in front of you. He tried to hold back a chuckle as you scrambled to clean the sawdust off the tabletop, clearing your workspace of any tools and powdery wood particles.

He found it amusing how you went about your business after you tidied up, pretending that you weren't just snoozing at your work table amongst tools and sawdust.

His gaze drifted to the doorway that seemed to be attracting attention from some of the elves. Mingi could feel his cheeks warm as he looked at the newly-shaped doorway that was exactly the same size as him.

He would make sure to thank you later.

You yawned as you tinkered away on a toy. Running on little to no sleep had you working a little slower than usual, but knowing Mingi would no longer hurt himself put you at ease and, in a way, kept you going.

You worked until you felt someone's presence near you. Glancing up, you saw Mingi who stood by your station.

"Oh. Hi Mingi." You greeted with a smile.

"Do you have a minute?" He asked.

"Sure. Is something wrong?"

"I just wanna talk to you for a moment. Is that okay?"

"Of course."

Mingi led you outside to a nearby bench where the two of you could talk alone.

"I saw what you did for me." He said.

"Hm?" You furrowed your brows. "What do you mean?"

"The doorway. I know it was you."

"Me? No. I didn't do that."

"Y/n." Chuckled Mingi. "I saw you asleep at your workstation with sawdust all over you and tools everywhere."

You started to make up another excuse, but snapped your mouth shut after processing what Mingi said. You meant to clean up your workstation, but you were so tired you accidentally fell asleep.

"You don't have to pretend it wasn't you." He spoke softly.

"I wanted to stay anonymous."

"I would have figured out it was you, anyway. No one else would do that for me except you and Santa."

"Did you like it?" You asked.

He nodded with a smile. "It was really nice to be able to walk through a doorway normally."

"I'm glad. I hated seeing you hit your head all the time and it seemed like no one was going to do anything about it."

"I hated hitting my head too, and I always seem to forget to crouch down."

"Crouching down seems like an inconvenience."

"It is. I don't feel like I'm getting work done fast enough."

You nodded in understanding.

As the two of you sat, snow began to fall from the overcast sky above. You looked up, watching as the flakes got bigger.

"I still can't believe you worked all night to alter one doorframe for me." Mingi spoke up suddenly.

"You deserve it, Mingi." You told him.

"You have such a kind soul."

You couldn't stop the warmth that ticked your cheeks at his words. “I would change all the other doorframes for you in a heartbeat."

The elf beside you seemed to get flustered as he avoided eye contact with you for a moment. When he looked back at you, a heartwarming grin spread across his face.

"You're getting covered in snow." Mingi giggled.

"You are too."

"Why don't we go somewhere else? How about that gazebo over there?" He pointed to a nearby wooden pavilion with lights wrapped around the roof and railing.

"Good idea."

The two of you hurried through the flurries and under the gazebo, but as you stepped underneath the shelter, you heard a loud thud. Turning around, you saw Mingi wincing with his hand pressed to his forehead.

"Oh no." You frowned, watching as he ducked to get underneath the gazebo.

Thankfully, the roof was a hollow cone shape, so he was able to stand up properly when he got inside.

"I forgot." He muttered.

"Come here." You held your palms up towards Mingi's face, gesturing for him to move closer.

He bent down a little, allowing you to get on your tiptoes and grab his cheeks, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

His eyes widened, as his cheeks tinted pink, even the tips of his pointed ears held a blush-colored hue.

"Ah." You turned your head away. "Sorry. I don't know why—"

"It's okay." Mingi cut you off. "I... liked it."

"You did?"

He nodded, shyly.

You couldn't deny the fact that Mingi was a good-looking guy. In fact, he's the only elf that ever caught your eye, and it wasn't because of his height. He was stunning. You loved his eyes. They could be sharp at times, almost intimidating, but also innocent, big, and bright. You loved his lips too. They were full, pink, and when he concentrated really hard, very pouty. You'd be lying if you said you didn't think about how it would feel to kiss them.

Did he feel the same as you?

"So..." You trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

"I like you." Mingi blurted.

Your brows raised, not expecting him to come out with it so quickly.

"You're the only elf that's shown me kindness. Ever since I first showed up here, you made sure I was getting the hang of things and constantly asked if I needed help. Despite me being different, you still spoke to me and treated me like everyone else."

"That's because you are like everyone else. To me, you're not different. You're you."

Mingi's glossy eyes twinkled a bit when you said that. His large hands found yours, clasping onto them; you could feel them shaking—or maybe it was your own. You glanced down, seeing the way his hands swallowed yours whole. It made your heart leap in your chest.

"Can I kiss you?" Mingi asked tentatively.

"I thought you'd never ask." You chuckled.

Mingi bent down to get closer to your height as you stood straighter to get closer to his. Your hands rested on the sides of his face as the two of you leaned in, closing the space between you.

Mingi's lips felt exactly the way you thought they would, only 10 times better. They were pliant, soft, and oh-so gentle. He was kissing you so delicately, it made your heart swell. You could tell he was a little nervous about what he was doing, but so were you.

One of Mingi's large hands moved to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as he began to deepen the kiss.

You could feel your whole body heat up like fresh hot cocoa. The warmth sent a rush through you from head to toe as your hands moved to clutch onto the collar of Mingi's uniform, pulling him even closer. You couldn't get enough, you were desperate for more.

Mingi seemed to get the hint as he straightened his posture, not once disconnecting the kiss. You stood up on your tiptoes to keep the contact as his free hand slid around your waist, his arm wrapping around your torso, holding you flush against him. He paused for a moment, relocating the hand that cupped the back of your neck to your waist. He held onto you tightly as he stood up fully. You gasped against his lips as the tips of your shoes lost contact with the wooden flooring of the gazebo.

He only pulled away long enough to mutter,

"I got you."

You trusted him, closing your eyes once again as you allowed his full lips to fully encase yours, sending another rush of heat throughout your body.

Unfortunately, breathing was something you needed to do to survive, so you had to pull away, ultimately ending the blissful moment. Mingi slowly lowered you to where your feet touched the ground again. The two of you huffed, your breaths coming out in puffs thanks to the wintry weather.

"As much as I'd like to stay out here and kiss you, we've got work to do." You reminded him.

"I know." His shoulders drooped a bit.

"We can always hang out later."

He smiled after hearing that.

The two of you stepped back out into the open and headed back towards the workshop hand-in-hand.

"I have a question." Mingi spoke up.

"Yes?"

"What now?"

"What now?" You parroted.

"Yeah. What are we?"

You didn't wanna get ahead of yourself, so you turned the question on him. "What do you want us to be?"

"Honestly... I'd love to be able to call you my girlfriend."

You smiled at his answer. "Good. Because I'd like to call you my boyfriend."

"Really?"

The fact that he was still surprised after the two of you had just kissed was adorable.

"You won't be ashamed to be seen with me?"

"When have I ever been ashamed to be seen with you?" You questioned.

"Touché." He chuckled.

You came to a stop at the large workshop doors, turning to Mingi.

"I'll see you after work." You told him, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his hand.

He grinned bashfully in response as he opened the doors. You both kept your hands clasped together, parting ways to go to your respective stations. As you separated, you gave Mingi a small smile and a wave.

Your entrance attracted quite a bit of attention, but you didn't care. The only thing you cared about was getting toys finished so you could spend more time with Mingi... and kiss him some more, of course.

Hongjoong ❄︎ Seonghwa ❄︎ Yunho ❄︎ Yeosang ❄︎ San ❄︎ Wooyoung ❄︎ Jongho

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