#[ 🎄 ] — smiles' secret santa.

[jupiterpilgrim]

Silent Night, Whispered Secrets

Christmas Special 🎄

Yunjin x Male Reader

word count: 4.5K words

The office is eerily quiet on Christmas Eve, with only the soft hum of your computer and occasional clicking of the keyboard breaking the silence. Most of your coworkers left hours ago to start their holiday celebrations, but you're still here finishing up year-end reports. The only other person crazy enough to still be working is Yunjin, whose office is just down the hall from yours.

You've known Yunjin for the two years you've worked at the company. She started a few months before you and helped show you the ropes when you first joined. You hit it off right away, drawn to her quick wit and infectious laugh. She's the kind of person who can find humor in even the most mundane office situations, making even boring meetings more bearable with her subtle eye rolls and whispered commentary.

Physically, Yunjin is absolutely your type, though you've tried not to think about her that way given your professional relationship. She has a classic beauty about her, with delicate features framed by stylish glasses that give her a sexy librarian vibe. Her lips are full and naturally pouty, the kind that make you wonder what they'd feel like pressed against yours. She typically dresses conservatively for the office in blazers and pencil skirts, but you can tell she has a slim, petite figure with small breasts that suit her frame perfectly.

The sound of heels clicking on the tile floor pulls you from your thoughts. Looking up, you see Yunjin leaning against your doorframe, her jacket discarded and the top button of her white blouse undone.

"Still at it?" she asks with a sympathetic smile. "You know Santa won't come if you're still awake doing spreadsheets."

You can't help but chuckle. "Pretty sure Santa skips over office buildings anyway. What's your excuse for still being here?"

"Same as you probably - trying to get everything wrapped up before the holiday break." She walks into your office and perches on the edge of your desk, something she's done countless times during your friendly chats. "But I'm officially taking a break and you should too. We've been at this for hours."

The familiar scent of her perfume - something light and floral - wafts over as she settles next to you. You realize she's right about needing a break; your eyes are starting to blur from staring at the screen.

"Yeah, you're probably right," you concede, leaning back in your chair. "Most of this can wait until after Christmas anyway."

"Exactly! Speaking of Christmas..." She swivels to face you more directly, crossing her legs. "What are your plans? Big family gathering?"

"Pretty much the usual - heading to my parents' place tomorrow morning. Mom always goes overboard with the decorations and Dad pretends to complain about it while secretly loving every minute." You smile thinking about your family's traditions. "What about you?"

"Similar, minus the over-the-top decorations. Though my mom does make enough food to feed a small army." She pauses, seeming to consider something before asking, "Will your girlfriend be joining you?"

The question catches you off guard. In all your conversations, she's never directly asked about your relationship status before. "No girlfriend to bring along," you answer honestly. "Flying solo this holiday season."

"Really?" Her eyebrows raise slightly above her glasses frames. "I find that hard to believe. A guy like you, single at Christmas?"

There's something different in her tone now, a slight flirtatiousness that makes your pulse quicken. "What do you mean a guy like me?" you ask, playing along.

She adjusts her glasses in that adorable way she does when she's about to say something bold. "Oh, you know... Smart, funny, easy on the eyes." Her lips curve into a playful smile. "The kind of guy who probably has women fighting over who gets to kiss him under the mistletoe."

Your mouth goes dry as you process this shift in dynamic. Is Yunjin actually flirting with you? After two years of carefully maintained friendship?

"Funny, I was just thinking the same about you," you reply, testing the waters. "Surprised you don't have a line of guys waiting to take you home for the holidays."

She laughs softly, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. "Maybe I'm waiting for the right guy to ask." Her eyes meet yours with unmistakable intent now. "Someone who already knows me... understands me..."

The air between you feels charged with possibility. You've imagined moments like this before but always pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to complicate your friendship or work relationship. But now, with her looking at you like that...

"Yunjin..." you start, not quite sure what you're going to say.

She slides off your desk and extends her hand to you. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

You don't hesitate for a second, turning off the computer and getting up from your chair. Your heart pounds as you take her hand, letting her lead you out of your office and down the darkened hallway. Her fingers are soft and warm interlaced with yours. She guides you past the break room and copy area to a section of the building you rarely visit.

"Where are we going?" you ask, though you're happy to follow her anywhere at this point.

"Somewhere private," she answers mysteriously. "Where we can talk without worrying about security cameras."

She leads you into what appears to be a storage room, flicking on a small lamp that casts a warm glow over boxes of office supplies and forgotten furniture. It's cozy in an odd way, like a secret hideaway.

Yunjin turns to face you, still holding your hand. Her cheeks are slightly flushed and you can see her chest rising and falling with quick breaths.

"I need to tell you something," she says. "Something I've wanted to say for a long time but never had the courage."

You squeeze her hand encouragingly, heart racing with anticipation.

"I have feelings for you," she continues. "Real feelings, beyond friendship. I think I have for a while now but I was afraid to admit it, afraid of ruining what we have. But being here tonight, just the two of us... I couldn't keep pretending anymore."

The confession hangs in the air between you for a moment before you respond. "Yunjin, I had no idea you felt that way. I mean, I've definitely thought about you like that but I always told myself it was just a crush, that it would pass..."

"And did it? Pass?" she asks softly.

You shake your head. "No. If anything, it got stronger the more I got to know you. You're amazing, Yunjin. Smart and funny and beautiful... I love how you can make me laugh even on the worst days. How you always remember little details about things I've told you. How passionate you get when talking about things you care about..."

She steps closer, reaching up to touch your face. "We've been through a lot together, haven't we? All those late nights working on projects, lunch breaks spent venting about difficult clients, celebrating each other's wins..."

"Yeah," you agree, letting your free hand rest on her waist. "I guess it's natural that feelings would develop. We just... fit."

"We do," she whispers, then rises on her tiptoes to press her lips to yours.

The kiss is gentle at first, tentative, as if you're both still afraid of crossing this line. But then she sighs against your mouth and something ignites between you. Your arms wrap around her waist as hers circle your neck, pulling each other closer as the kiss deepens.

Her lips are even softer than you imagined, moving against yours with growing passion. You can taste mint on her breath, like she'd been preparing for this possibility. The thought makes you smile against her mouth.

"What?" she asks, pulling back slightly.

"Nothing," you murmur, trailing kisses along her jaw. "Just happy."

She tilts her head to give you better access to her neck, letting out a small moan when you find a sensitive spot. "Mmm... want to know what would make me happy?"

"Tell me," you breathe against her skin.

"Letting me give you your Christmas present." Her hands slide down your chest as she speaks.

You pull back to look at her, seeing desire burning in her eyes behind those sexy glasses. "What kind of present?"

Instead of answering, she starts unbuttoning her blouse, revealing smooth pale skin and a simple white bra underneath. Your breath catches as she reaches behind to unhook it, letting the garment fall away.

You can't take your eyes off Yunjin's exposed chest as she straddles your lap in the dimly lit storage room. Her breasts are small, almost flat against her slim frame, but they're absolutely perfect to you. Each one is barely a handful, topped with delicate pink nipples that have hardened in the cool air. The sight makes your mouth water with desire.

"I know they're not much to look at," she says shyly, noticing your intense gaze. "Most guys prefer bigger..."

You silence her self-consciousness by cupping both small mounds in your hands, feeling their subtle weight. "These are exactly what I want," you tell her firmly. "Perfect little tits that fit my hands just right."

She shivers as you run your thumbs over her nipples, watching them stiffen further under your touch. The rosy buds stand out proudly now, begging to be sucked. You lean forward slowly, maintaining eye contact as you take one peak between your lips.

"Ohhh..." Yunjin moans softly as you begin to suckle her breast. Her fingers thread through your hair, holding you against her chest as you worship her sensitive flesh.

You alternate between gentle suction and firm licks, paying attention to how she responds. When you graze your teeth lightly across her nipple, her whole body trembles and she lets out a gasp. You do it again, a bit firmer this time, and are rewarded with a breathy "Yes..."

Your hands knead her small breasts as you continue lavishing attention on her nipples. Despite their size, or perhaps because of it, they seem incredibly sensitive. Every touch, every lick, every gentle bite makes her squirm and moan in your lap.

You pull back slightly to admire your work - her nipples are now swollen and deep pink from your ministrations. "So responsive," you murmur, blowing cool air across the wet peaks and watching them tighten further. "I love how sensitive these little tits are."

"Only for you," she whimpers as you dive back in, this time taking as much of her small breast into your mouth as possible. There's something incredibly arousing about being able to almost fit the entire mound between your lips.

You suck firmly while massaging her other breast, feeling her nipple press hard against your palm. Her hips begin to rock subtly in your lap as her arousal builds. The movement makes your already hard cock throb with need, but you're determined to thoroughly worship these perfect little tits first.

Moving to her neglected breast, you trace circles around the areola with your tongue before capturing the straining nipple between your teeth. A sharp gasp escapes her lips as you apply just enough pressure to toe the line between pleasure and pain.

"Oh god," she pants, grinding more insistently against you now. "That feels so good... I never knew my breasts could be this sensitive..."

You hum against her flesh, the vibrations making her shudder. Your hands slide around to grip her ass, helping guide her movements as she rocks in your lap. Each roll of her hips makes her small breasts sway slightly, a hypnotic sight that has you alternating between watching and tasting.

"Such perfect little tits," you murmur between licks and kisses. "Love how they bounce... love how responsive they are... love how they fit in my mouth just right..."

Your praise seems to turn her on even more. She arches her back, pressing her chest more firmly against your face as you continue your oral assault on her sensitive peaks. Her breathing becomes more ragged with each passing minute.

You bring your hands back to her breasts, squeezing them together so you can move back and forth between nipples more easily. The sight of her small mounds pressed together, topped with those pretty pink nipples, is incredibly erotic. You lap at both peaks simultaneously, making her cry out.

"Please," she whimpers, though you're not sure what she's begging for. You respond by sucking harder, drawing one taut nipple deep into your mouth while pinching and rolling the other between your fingers.

Her whole body is trembling now as you continue your relentless attention. You can feel how wet she is through her panties as she grinds against your lap, seeking friction. The combination of your mouth on her sensitive breasts and the pressure against her clit seems to be driving her wild.

"I think..." she gasps, clutching your head tighter. "I think I might... from just this..."

The revelation that she might cum just from breast play spurs you on. You double your efforts, sucking and licking and nibbling at her swollen nipples while your hands massage the soft flesh of her small breasts. Her movements become more erratic as she chases her pleasure.

"That's it," you encourage between sucks. "Let go for me... show me how sensitive these perfect little tits are..."

With a sharp cry, she does just that. Her body goes rigid in your lap as waves of pleasure wash over her, triggered by nothing more than your mouth on her breasts. You continue gently sucking and licking through her orgasm, prolonging the sensation until she weakly pushes your head away, too sensitive to take any more.

"I've never..." she pants, looking down at you with wide eyes. "That's never happened before..."

You press soft kisses to her flushed chest, admiring how her nipples are now deep red and slightly swollen from your attention. "Just proves what I said - these are perfect."

With a smile Yunjin slides down your body with a hungry look in her eyes, her delicate fingers work at your belt buckle as she settles between your legs, licking her lips in anticipation.

"Now I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel," she purrs, finally freeing your throbbing cock from its confines. Her eyes widen slightly at the sight. "So big..." she whispers, wrapping her small hand around your shaft.

You groan at the first contact, already rock hard from getting her off with just breast play earlier. She starts with slow, exploratory strokes, learning the feel of you. Her other hand cups your balls gently, rolling them between her fingers as she studies your reactions.

"Tell me if it's good, okay?" she asks softly, her hot breath ghosting over your tip. "I want this to be the best you've ever had."

Before you can respond, she leans forward and drags her tongue from base to tip in one long, slow lick. Your cock twitches in her grip as she swirls her tongue around the head, gathering the bead of precum that's formed there.

"Mmm," she hums, savoring the taste. "Already so excited for me..."

She continues teasing you with her tongue, tracing the prominent veins along your shaft and paying special attention to the sensitive spot just under the head. Her hand keeps up a steady stroking motion, spreading her saliva along your length.

When she finally takes you into her mouth, you have to fight not to thrust up into that wet heat. She starts shallow, just sucking on the tip while her tongue works against the underside. Her eyes flutter closed as she focuses on the task, clearly enjoying herself.

"Fuck, that feels good," you groan as she gradually takes more of you in. Her mouth is so hot and wet, and the suction is perfect. She hums in acknowledgment, the vibrations sending pleasure shooting through your cock.

One hand wraps around what doesn't fit in her mouth yet, working in tandem with her lips and tongue. The other continues massaging your balls, occasionally trailing lower to tease your perineum. The dual stimulation has your toes curling.

She pulls off with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. "I love how hard you are," she says, pumping you with both hands now. "Love feeling you throb in my mouth..."

Before you can respond, she's diving back down, taking you even deeper this time. Her tongue pressed flat against the underside of your shaft as she bobs her head, building a steady rhythm. The wet sounds of her sucking fill the room, obscenely erotic.

You thread your fingers through her hair, not guiding her movements but just wanting to touch her. She moans around your cock in response, the vibrations making you groan. Her pace picks up slightly, switching between deep sucks and focusing on the sensitive head.

"Just like that," you encourage as she finds a particularly good rhythm. "Your mouth feels fucking amazing."

She pulls back again, this time to focus solely on your tip while her hands work your shaft. Her tongue swirls around the head before flicking rapidly against the frenulum, making your hips jerk. "Want to taste every inch of you," she murmurs before taking you deep again.

This time she doesn't stop until you hit the back of her throat. She holds there for a moment, swallowing around you, before pulling back for air. Strings of saliva connect her lips to your cock as she gasps.

"So fucking hot," you groan, watching her catch her breath. Your cock twitches in her grip, achingly hard from her skilled attention.

She smiles up at you before diving back in, this time maintaining eye contact as she works you over. The sight of her pretty lips stretched around your girth while she stares up at you with lust-filled eyes is almost too much.

Her technique varies between long, slow sucks taking you as deep as she can manage, and focusing on the tip with quick flicks of her tongue. She seems to delight in finding what makes you moan loudest, repeating movements that get the biggest reactions.

"Getting close?" she asks during another brief break, her hand never stopping its stroking motion. When you nod, she smiles. "Good. I want to taste your cum... want to swallow every drop..."

The dirty talk combined with her renewed oral assault has you right on the edge. She seems to sense this, doubling her efforts. One hand pumps your shaft while the other gently squeezes your balls. Her mouth focuses on your sensitive head, sucking firmly while her tongue works the underside.

"Fuck, I'm about to cum!" you growl, staring down at Yunjin's face as she works your throbbing cock with her skilled mouth. Her designer glasses are slightly fogged up from her heavy breathing, adding an irresistibly naughty librarian vibe to her cock-hungry expression. Those plump, glistening lips stretch obscenely wide around your thick shaft as she bobs her head with expert precision.

Rather than slow down at your warning, she doubles her efforts - taking you even deeper into her hot, eager mouth. Her full, pouty lips form a perfect seal around your cock as she sucks harder, her tongue dancing and swirling along your sensitive length. Drool runs down your balls as she services you with single-minded determination, the wet sloppy sounds of her enthusiastic sucking filling the room.

You reach down to tangle your fingers in her silky hair, accidentally knocking her glasses slightly askew. She doesn't miss a beat, continuing to worship your cock while reaching up to adjust them with one hand. The intellectual look of her wire-rimmed frames contrasts deliciously with the absolutely filthy things she's doing with that talented mouth.

Her crimson lipstick is completely ruined now, smeared all over your cock in scarlet streaks. The sight of those perfect dick-sucking lips wrapped around you, combined with her sultry gaze behind those sexy glasses, has your balls drawing up tight. She must sense how close you are because she takes you impossibly deeper, until you feel the back of her throat squeezing your sensitive cockhead.

Her nose presses against your pelvis as she deep-throats you with practiced ease, her glasses fogging up even more from her heavy breathing. The rippling sensation of her throat muscles working around your length finally pushes you over the edge.

"Fuuuuck!" you roar as your orgasm hits like a freight train. Your cock pulses violently, shooting thick ropes of hot cum directly down her eager throat. She moans in satisfaction around your spurting length, continuing to suck and swallow rhythmically as you empty yourself into her hungry mouth. Not a single drop escapes those perfect cock-hungry lips.

Even after you're completely drained, she keeps gently nursing on your sensitive head, her tongue lapping up every last trace of cum. Only when you're trembling from overstimulation does she finally release you with an obscene pop. Your cock emerges glistening with her saliva, still twitching occasionally.

She looks up at you with heavy-lidded eyes behind her slightly steamed glasses, licking those full, swollen lips with obvious satisfaction. A thin strand of saliva and cum still connects her mouth to your cock. "Mmm, fucking delicious," she purrs, her voice slightly hoarse from taking you so deep. She gives your softening length one final kiss before sitting back on her heels.

Your legs feel weak as you watch her run her tongue over her lips again, savoring your taste. Her ruined lipstick smeared across her mouth and chin. Combined with her messy hair, fogged glasses, and the hungry look in her eyes, she's the perfect picture of debauchery.

"That was incredible," you manage to say once you catch your breath. She just grins wickedly, clearly proud of her cock-sucking skills. And rightfully so - you've never had your dick sucked with such enthusiasm and expertise before.

"I love the way you taste," she says, running one finger along her bottom lip while pushing her glasses back up her nose. "And the way your big cock feels stretching my mouth open. Makes me so fucking horny." To emphasize her point, she brings both hands up to her small breasts, squeezing them firmly through her top.

The sight of her playing with herself while looking at you with those intelligent eyes behind her frames makes your spent cock twitch with renewed interest. She notices and laughs, her hands still kneading her chest. "Already wanting more? Such a greedy boy." She leans forward to plant soft kisses along your shaft, which is already starting to harden again.

"Can't help it when you've got such perfect dick-sucking lips," you tell her, running your thumb across her plump bottom lip. She captures the digit between her teeth, sucking it into her mouth with a sultry look. The combination of her hot tongue swirling around your thumb and her glasses sliding down her nose again makes your cock throb.

"These lips were made for worshipping cock," she agrees after releasing your thumb with a wet pop. "Especially yours. I love how thick you are - really makes me work for it." She emphasizes her point by wrapping those gorgeous lips around just your sensitive head, sucking gently while maintaining eye contact through her slightly fogged lenses.

You groan at the sight and sensation. "Fuck, you really are insatiable aren't you?" Your hand finds its way back into her hair, careful not to knock her glasses off this time as you guide her movements. She starts taking more of your rapidly hardening length into her mouth again.

She pulls off just long enough to say "When it comes to sucking your cock? Absolutely." Then she's diving back down, taking you to the root in one smooth motion that has you seeing stars. Her throat contracts around you as she swallows, making you gasp.

Your grip in her hair tightens as she starts bobbing her head with renewed vigor. The wet sounds of her enthusiastic cock-sucking fill the room once again. She alternates between taking you deep in her throat and focusing on your sensitive head, her talented tongue doing incredible things that have you moaning.

"Such a good little cocksucker," you praise her, making her moan around your length. Her glasses fog up completely as she works your cock faster. "Love watching those pretty lips stretch around my thick cock. You were born to suck dick, weren't you?"

She responds by taking you even deeper, until her nose is pressed against your pelvis again. The feeling of her throat squeezing around your cock while she looks up at you with those big, eager eyes behind her steamed-up lenses is almost too much to handle.

"That's it, take it all like a good girl," you growl, using your grip on her hair to hold her in place for a moment. She moans and squirms, clearly loving being used like this. When you finally let her pull back for air, she gasps and immediately dives back down for more, quickly adjusting her glasses before wrapping those perfect lips around you again.

Her enthusiasm is infectious. You start thrusting your hips slightly, fucking her willing mouth while she moans encouragement. The sight of your cock disappearing between those perfect cock-sucking lips over and over, combined with her sexy librarian look, has you racing toward another orgasm embarrassingly quickly.

"Gonna cum again," you warn her through gritted teeth. She responds by sucking even harder, her cheeks hollowing as she works to draw out your load. Her tongue does wicked things to your sensitive head while one hand massages your heavy balls.

This time when you explode, she pulls back just enough to catch your cum on her tongue. You watch in awe as rope after rope of hot cum paints those gorgeous lips and fills her eager mouth. Some of it lands on her glasses, making her look even more debauched. She makes a show of swallowing it all down before licking her lips clean with a satisfied smile.

"Mmm, even better the second time," she purrs, giving your sensitive cock one final kiss. Her lips and chin are glazed with a mixture of cum and saliva, her lipstick completely destroyed, and her glasses are splattered with your seed. "Well, what did you think of my blowjob? Think that lived up to being the best you've ever had?"

"Fuck yes. Your lips, your mouth, your tongue, those fucking glasses... You're perfect, Yunjin.”

Still on her knees, she reaches for the open cardboard box nearby. It’s crammed with small packs of wet wipes. She plucks one out, tearing it open with her teeth before pulling a single wipe free. As she starts cleaning her glasses, she laughs softly. “These glasses? Expensive as hell,” she says, wiping the lenses with a casual ease. “But having you cum all over me while wearing them? Fucking worth it.”

Her words make you shudder slightly, your breath catching as you watch her throw away the last used wipe, her face and glasses less messy now. She smirks, using her thumb to rub at the the forgotten bit of smeared lipstick.

When Yunjin finishes, she sighs, looking at you with those big lovely eyes. "Did you like your present?" she asks softly.

You pull her closer, crushing your mouth to hers, tasting yourself on her tongue but too far gone to care. “Best Christmas present ever,” you murmur against her lips, your hands finding her hips, pulling her impossibly closer as she melts into you.

"Merry Christmas then," she says with a playful wink, wiping her mouth delicately.

"To be honest, I've never liked Christmas as much as I do now," you tell her when your lips move away.

She laughs softly, tucking her head against your neck. "Just wait until you see what I have planned for New Year's."

You hold her close, both of you catching your breath as the reality of what just happened settles in. Outside the windows, snow has begun to fall, dusting the city in white. It's still Christmas Eve, you still have family obligations tomorrow, but right now none of that matters. All that matters is this moment, this woman in your arms, and the promise of more to come.

"We should probably head home soon," Yunjin says eventually, though she makes no move to get up. "It is Christmas Eve after all."

You press a kiss to her temple. "Five more minutes," you bargain, and feel her smile against your skin.

"Five more minutes," she agrees.

You sit there together in comfortable silence, watching the snow fall outside while your racing hearts slow to normal. Whatever happens next, you know this Christmas will be one to remember. And as Yunjin snuggles closer in your arms, you can't help but think that sometimes the best presents come when you least expect them.

The office will look different from now on, you think. The familiar halls and rooms now charged with memory - her hand in yours as she led you here, the first press of her lips against yours, the way she looked on her knees between your legs…

Finally, reluctantly, you both begin to dress. You help Yunjin button her blouse, stealing kisses between each button until she laughs and pushes you away playfully. Her hair is slightly messed up from your fingers and her lips are still swollen from their earlier activities.

She's never looked more beautiful.

"Walk me to my car?" she asks, slipping her hand into yours.

"Of course," you reply, squeezing her fingers gently.

As you make your way through the quiet building, you can't help but marvel at how much can change in a single night. Yesterday, Yunjin was just your friend and coworker. Now... now she's something more, something precious and exciting and full of possibility.

In the parking garage, she turns to face you before getting in her car. "Text me when you get home?" she asks, and you nod.

"Definitely." You pull her close for one more kiss, slow and sweet. "Merry Christmas, Yunjin."

She smiles against your lips. "Merry Christmas."

You watch her drive away, snow swirling in the headlights, before heading to your own car. As you drive home through the quiet streets, you can't wipe the smile off your face. This Christmas is already shaping up to be the best one yet.

Your phone buzzes with a text just as you're pulling into your driveway. It's from Yunjin: "Already missing those five more minutes 😘"

You reply quickly:

"We'll have to make up for lost time after the holidays."

Her response comes immediately:

"Can't wait 💕"

As you head inside, you find yourself actually looking forward to returning to work after Christmas. Who knew the office could hold such possibilities? But then again, with Yunjin involved, anything seems possible.

You fall asleep that night with thoughts of soft lips and gentle hands, of whispered confessions and promises of more to come. In your dreams, it's still snowing, and Yunjin is there, smiling at you through the white flakes, reaching for your hand.

Tomorrow will bring family gatherings and holiday traditions, but tonight belongs to the memory of her - the taste of her kisses, the sound of her moans, the feel of her skin under your fingers. It's the best Christmas gift you could have asked for, and it's only the beginning.

[frannyzooey]

Warriors

Merry Christmas @papurgaatika !! I am your Secret Santa, and I had a blast writing this for you ❤️ We share a first love of Din and writing this made me realize just how much I've missed him! I hope this is everything you wished for and more -- and I hope you have an amazing holiday!! 🎄❄️🎄❄️

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

--

You first spotted him on the outer reaches of the galaxy. 

His beskar armor demanded to be seen, a surprising choice for someone who worked in the shadows. But while the first time you saw him was a flash at the edge of the market, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you. 

He’d been watching you for weeks. 

The bounty on your head was a high one: a disgruntled old boss with a lot of credits, and even more vindictiveness. You’d been skipping from planet to planet, earning anything you could from spare jobs, and stealing whenever you had to. You knew your luck had to run out one day, but you always thought you’d be able to talk your way out of it. 

It’s a misunderstanding, you’d say. Let me tell you my side of the story. 

Just your luck that the bounty hunter who finally caught you wouldn’t budge an inch. 

He was stoic, solid. Impenetrable, just like his armor. The very size of his body intimidated you, but it had nothing on what you felt when he stared. The helmet he constantly wore hid everything from you, and even though you couldn’t see his expression, you still tried to plead your case.

It was like arguing with a wall. 

You pressed, and he remained silent. You explained, and he stood eerily still. You begged, and he said nothing.

Eventually, he admitted that the begging did it. 

That, and the fact that he needed a babysitter – for a child just as stubborn as he was. 

Weeks spent watching the Child and waiting around for him had your nerves strung tight, and sleep pulled at your dry eyes. You knew he was just as tired, but he was being infuriatingly stubborn – as usual. 

“Just take the bed,” he urged. 

“You’ve been out there for over two weeks,” you argued back, gesturing outside the ship. “Not a chance. You need sleep.”

“I’ll sleep in the cockpit.”

“Why, when you could stretch out?” you pushed back. 

His sighs were always these weighted things – thick with impatience, paired with hands on his hips and a tip of his helmet. The sound of it made you cringe when he did it to bounties, made you smile when he did it to the kid – but now, it made you frustrated. Annoyed. 

You crossed your arms over your chest, standing firm. He could be stubborn, but so could you. 

“The kid’s been down for ages, Mando. Take advantage of it.”

“And where will you sleep?” he pressed. 

“On the floor. Up in the cockpit. Wherever.” 

“On the floor?” He stared you down, and it took everything you had not to avert your eyes. 

“Hey,” you called him out. “Don’t try to intimidate me. It’s not going to work.”

He remained silent, and you huffed with annoyance. 

“Please,” you sighed. “I’m tired, you’re tired, the kids asleep. You need rest. Just take the bed.”

You turned to climb the ladder to the cockpit, and his voice stopped you. 

“Want to share it?”

–

Whatever sleep you thought you’d get, you were kidding yourself. 

The hulk of this man was a furnace next to you: the broad span of his shoulders blocking out the hull, the width of his chest shielding you, the bulk of his thighs pressed against your own. Insisting you take the side closest to the wall, you couldn’t even crawl out of the cot to go sleep somewhere else without waking him up – and that was the last thing you wanted to do. 

Okay, maybe not the last. 

The last thing you wanted was for him to wake up because you couldn’t stop squirming. 

Paired with the heat of his body, the ache that gathered at the crux of your thighs made it impossible to sleep. It sprouted at his proximity, blossomed at the reminder of his strength, and grew with each of his deep, steady exhales. It pooled in the cradle of your pelvis, flooding through your hips and down. 

Gingerly, you rolled onto your side – but his hips lined up too much with your ass for you to ignore. You tried your other side, but the crook of his neck called to you. You tried your back, and that’s when he spoke. 

“Is something the matter?”

You startled, unaware that he’d been awake this whole time. That kriffing helmet. 

“Can’t sleep, I guess.”

He hummed, the sound going straight to your core. “Not enough space?”

It really wasn’t, but you found yourself not wanting to admit it. It was either this or the cold, uncomfortable cockpit and being curled up next to him was the better option. 

Even if you ended up going mad with want. 

“No,” you replied. “It’s fine.”

He nodded, going still. 

Your eyes ran up the length of his forearm, over the bulk of his bicep. You pictured his arm lifting to rest itself across the dip of your waist, and imagining the weight of it, you let out a shaky exhale. Closing your eyes, you leaned into the fantasy: his hand sliding underneath the band of your thermals, cupping you wholly between your legs. His fingers sliding inside of you with a stretch, your thighs parting to make room for his thick wrist. Slick pooled along your seam and dripped out, and you shifted again on the cot. 

This time, his hand stilled you. 

“Do you want me to sleep somewhere else?” 

“No,” you blurted out, embarrassed. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Do you want…something else?” 

Your cheeks flooded with warmth, and you turned your head to look at him. “Like what?”

He shrugged, the shadowed round of his shoulder moving in the darkness. “You tell me.”

–

It didn’t take long after that to be buried underneath the bulk of his body. 

Every inch of skin that you dreamt about for months bared for your touch, you couldn’t stop exploring him – the fragrant crook of his neck, the smooth planes of muscle that covered his back, the trim sides of his torso and his soft belly dusted with hair. He seemed to revel in your touch, and you imagined that to be the case, with how often he was covered head to toe. 

His hips fit neatly within the cradle of your thighs, and when he filled you with a swift, precise push forward, a flutter erupted in your belly at the idea that he might fuck like he hunts – with competence and skill. Your back arched off his cot to take him deeper, and he groaned in your ear. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” he praised, his knees shifting wider for purchase. His hips kissed the inside of your thighs with every roll forward, his weight spreading them wider underneath his strokes, and your hands splayed across his chest when he pushed himself up on his hands to stroke deeper, harder. Scars littered his chest, memories of his past permanently etched into his skin and something about it tugged at you – the idea that he always came out on top, but paid a price to get there.

Wanting to give him the rest you knew he deserved, you tugged him down on top of you and rolled your bodies until you straddled his lap – a sight that made him hum with appreciation. He tried to sit up to join you, but you pushed him back down. 

“I said you need rest, Mando,” you reminded him of your earlier words, your hips rolling in time with every upwards push of his. The filling heft of his cock had your mouth dropping open, and though you couldn’t see his face, you knew his eyes were fixed on it. “Let me – let me do the work.”

“Okay,” he eventually agreed, his thumb finding the bud of your clit. A few swipes of his touch had you keening, and he rested his other arm back behind his head, as if getting comfortable to watch the show. “I’ll watch while you make yourself come this time, sweet girl. But the next one?”

You moaned, your hips rocking faster against his – forwards into the swirling pressure of the pad of his thumb, and backwards onto the filling thickness of his cock. 

“The next one is mine.”

–

After that first night, he never let you sleep anywhere else. 

The cot much too small for two bodies, you made do by always being joined in one way or another: your limbs entwined, your body draped over his, his cock nestled inside you. Days and sometimes weeks without him at your side, he stripped bare every time he crawled in next to you, loathe to waste any moment without your skin touching his. 

Your face fit into the crook of his neck perfectly, his arm wrapped around your waist just right. For someone that spent so long by himself, it was clear that he was touch starved, but as you found out, so were you. 

Two lonely stars, colliding in a galaxy. 

You got used to his moods and he got used to yours. A routine came easy: you played the mechanic to his pilot, the babysitter to his parent, the vessel for him to pour his love into. And he did, every chance he could get. 

In the cockpit, poured into your mouth. 

In the hull of the ship, splashed along your back. 

In his cot, every single night, in every single way possible – smeared across your chest, pooled on your soft belly, flooded into the depths of your cunt. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise what happened after that, but it was. 

–

Seated on the edge of the worn exam table, you swallowed hard against a cough that rose in your chest. It tickled the base of your throat, demanding relief and you tucked your face into the crook of your elbow and let out a wet cough, your lungs heavy and sore. 

You had caught it from a bounty, a filthy vagrant that Mando had hauled up the ramp earlier that month. Due to a few choice words that the bounty spit at you, Mando made sure to freeze him (none too kindly) right away, but not before the stranger coughed with force in the small space. 

Not one to see a doctor for his own ailments, you were surprised when he demanded you see one after a couple weeks of the lingering cold. Leaving him waiting in the lobby, you smiled at the immediate berth the other patients gave him when he sat down. 

You picked at your finger, suppressing the urge to cough again. 

The medical droid reassured you. “You’ll be fine. All life signs for you and the child are reading in good condition.”

“The child?” you asked. The kid wasn’t sick, and he wasn’t even here.

“Looks like it’s just a cough. The baby is fine – all vitals are measuring optimal.”

You froze, unable to reply. 

The baby. 

“The…baby?”

The droid laughed, modulated and carefree like their words didn’t just shatter your whole existence. “A couple months along, I’d say. Do you want to listen?”

Gently lifting your tunic, they pressed a monitor to the curve of your stomach and the pulsing heartbeat that met your ears brought instant tears to your eyes. 

“There, there,” the droid soothed, handing you a tissue. “Sounds healthy!”

You walked back to the ship in a daze, your surroundings a blur, your mind stuck on a loop of worry.

He never asked for this. 

This is no life to raise a child in. 

The ship – the ship barely fits the three of you, where the maker is a baby going to go?

The endless questions ate away at you for the rest of the evening, every worst case scenario coming true in your mind. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

On his side facing you, Din (a name he had long ago whispered to you in the darkness of his cot) ran his touch along your arm. He tucked you closer, rubbing your back. “You still feel sick?”

Your cheek rested against the firm heat of his chest, and you listened to his heartbeat – so like the one you heard earlier today. They sounded the same, and tucked safely next to his bulk, you murmured the words into his neck. 

“I’m going to have a baby.”

His visor tilted downwards just as his hand tipped your chin up. He looked down at you, and you wished desperately that you could see his face. Your lip trembled when he said nothing, and he cleared his throat. 

“I…wanted to wait,” he started, and your face crumbled. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, cutting him off. Your voice wavered, and you looked away. “I –”

“Stop.” His commanding voice halted your sentence mid-speech. His hold slid from your chin to your cheek, cupping the soft curve. 

“I wanted to wait,” he repeated, softer this time. “Until we could find someone to do the ceremony.”

Your face scrunched in confusion, and he dragged the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone, collecting a stray tear.

“We have a special ceremony we perform, when we bind ourselves to someone for life. It involves…taking our helmet off, so they can see us. So they can know us, better than anyone else.”

Your gaze transfixed on his visor, you held your breath as he reached for the edge of his helmet. 

“You already know me better than anyone else, so…”

He lifted the helmet up, and for the first time, you saw his face. 

He was beautiful – warm, rich brown eyes, ringed with thick lashes. A strong nose, a plush mouth. Stubble that scattered across his cheeks, a moustache that you never would have imagined. His curls were dark and mussed, and you envisioned a baby in your arms with the same color hair. 

The grin that broke across his face was almost as beautiful as the face itself – and every worry you had vanished at the sight of it. 

He cleared his throat, and when he spoke, the sound of his real voice brought fresh tears to your eyes. 

"We are one when together, we are one when parted.” He recited the vows and his hand took yours, placing it on his chest. He let his own touch rest along the curve of your belly. “We will share all, we will raise warriors."

You sobbed, and he laughed – a new, treasured sound that made you cry even harder. 

“You have to repeat it,” he teased. 

Focused on his voice – his real voice, the feeling of hearing it for the first time overwhelming you – you took a deep breath, and stared into his eyes. 

“We are one when together, we are one when parted.” A hitch in your breath broke the vow, and he smiled, his fingers splaying across your skin. “We will share all, we will raise warriors.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

santa's sister in law ~ bernard the elf;the santa clause

word count: 4292

request?: no

description: in which he is adamantly against the in laws coming to the north pole, until he meets santa's sister in law

pairing: bernard the elf x female!human!reader

warnings: christmas fluff, sylvia sucking a little bit but that's just canon

masterlist (one, two, three)

Merry Christmas everyone! 🎄

a special christmas gift for @omeletdreamer 😌

Bernard was firmly against Carol's family coming to the North Pole. He liked Carol, don't get him wrong. She was a fantastic Mrs. Claus, and he loved her idea to start an elf school at the Pole. He understood that it was hard to adjust to life at the Pole, especially while she was pregnant. But bringing outsiders there was a big no-no. They were already pushing things by letting Laura, Neil, and Lucy in on the secret of Santa.

But all of his protests fell on deaf ears. Santa wanted Carol to have her family while he was going to be busy, and the other elves just wanted Carol to be happy. It was a thousand against one. So, Santa got into his sleigh and flew to get Carol's parents while the elves fixed up the Pole to look like Canada.

"This is never going to work," Bernard said to Curtis. "There's no way they're going to think this is Canada. Even if they believe these ridiculous store signs, they'll never believe Canada is inhabited by a bunch of children."

"Can you not be so negative for once?" Curtis asked. "It'll be fine."

"We are seriously pushing it with how many people know about the Pole and Santa. You can't blame me for being stressed out over it."

"Everything will be fine, Bernard. We have a plan. We got this."

Bernard huffed a sigh and walked away. He was tired of being brushed off like this. He didn't become head elf for nothing. He knew what he was doing. If only someone would just listen to him.

As he was walking away, he heard something in the distance. He looked up to see Santa's sleigh breaching through the entrance to the Pole. He couldn't see them yet, but he imagined Carol's parents in there, asleep from Sandman's magic, expecting to wake up in "Canada". He cringed to himself. There's really no going back now.

"I need a hot cocoa," he muttered to himself.

The kitchen elves were busy baking away when Bernard walked in. Carol had told them her mom's favorite cookies so they were hard at work making a batch to welcome Mrs. Newman. They were wearing comically large chef's hats pulled down to cover their pointy ears, which made Bernard glad his hair was long enough to do that naturally.

"Hi Bernard," Abby said, giving him a bright smile upon noticing him. "Want a hot cocoa?"

"I'd love one, Abby," he responded, sitting down at one of the tables.

She rushed off to make it for him. He picked up a cookie from a plate in the middle of the table to eat while waiting. Abby returned with his hot cocoa. He blew on it, disturbing the steady steam coming from the drink. He hoped that escaping to the kitchen would give him some time to prepare for Carol's parents.

He was taking his first sip of his hot cocoa when the kitchen doors opened again and in walked Santa, Mrs. Claus and her family in tow. Bernard nearly choked on his drink.

"And here's our kitchen," Santa was saying. "Oh, and Bernard's here too! Bernard is my, uh, he's my...assistant."

Bernard tried not to roll his eyes at the title.

He reluctantly stood and plastered a smile on his face. "Hi, nice to meet you...eh."

Carol's dad shook his hand while her mom pulled him in for an embrace. Bernard wasn't prepared for a third person to approach; a young woman with a smile so beautiful it left him speechless.

"This is my sister," Carol said. "We didn't know she was coming too."

"I'm (Y/N)," the woman said. "Mom and dad mentioned they were coming for a visit, so I asked Scott if it was alright for me to tag along."

"Of course it would be alright!" Sylvia cut in. "Scott's already had Carol from us for so long, he'd never say no to bringing Carol's loving sister with us to finally see her again."

Sylvia had a smile on her face but there was venom in her words. (Y/N) cringed and tried to ignore her mother's comment. "It's really lovely here so far. I'm glad I could come."

Bernard was still tongue tied. He kept opening and closing his mouth like an idiot trying to figure out something to say. (Y/N) was watching him, waiting, while Scott and Carol shared an amused look.

"Let's show you the rest of the place," Carol said, putting an arm around her sister. "We'll meet up with Bernard again later."

(Y/N) smiled and waved goodbye as the group left the kitchen. Once they were gone, Bernard felt like he was freed from a spell. He let out a long breath and slumped back down to the table. His hot cocoa had cooled down enough that he finished the rst of it in two gulps.

~~~~~~

Bernard was up late that night doing his rounds of the workshop. All the other elves had left for the night, but Bernard was often the last one up making sure everything was shut down and nothing was left out of place. With the in laws visiting, he was also making sure the workshop was locked up so no one would accidentally wander in and discover everything.

He was preparing to leave when he noticed the door to the kitchen was slightly ajar. He was sure all the baker elves had left for the night, but maybe someone had stayed behind. He poked his head into the room and almost gasped aloud when he saw it was (Y/N) who was leaning against the counter, a mug of hot cocoa in her hands. She was in her pajamas, clearly preparing for bed. Bernard was about to back away and leave her be, until she looked up form her mug and caught him. She smiled and waved to him.

"Good evening, Bernard," she said.

There was no escaping now. He stepped into the kitchen and cleared his throat, trying not to seem as weird as he had earlier. He discretely made sure his ears were tucked away under his hair.

"Hi," he said. Simple, easy. You can't mess up a "hi".

"What are you doing up so late?" she asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

She giggled. "Touché. I was having trouble sleeping so I decided to come out for a hot cocoa. That nice baker, Abby I think? She offered to make me one before she left. I was told she makes the best hot cocoa in all of the town."

"Oh, she does. She's the one you go to when you want a good hot drink made."

"She works magic, I'm sure."

Bernard tried not to let his smile falter. "You have no idea."

A silence fell over them. (Y/N) softy blew on her hot cocoa before taking a sip from it. A small trail of foam stuck to her upper lip as she pulled her mug away. Bernard couldn't stop himself from chuckling.

"What?" she asked.

"You just...you have something..." He gestured to his top lip.

She ran a thumb along her top lip, only smearing the foam more.

"Here, let me." Bernard reached up and wiped the foam off with his own thumb. He was suddenly very aware of their closeness when he looked into her eyes. Any words he could ever say were stuck in his throat yet again and he could only imagine how insane he looked, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Thank you," she said. "And thank you for having us here, too. I know it's a busy time of year for you guys. We don't mean to impose."

It took Bernard a moment to remember the story they had been telling Carol's parents: that Scott was a toy maker in Canada and that's why he would be so busy this time of year and needed someone to be there with Carol while she was pregnant.

"It's not imposition," Bernard assured her. "If anything, I think it's going to make Sa - Scott feel better to have you guys here for Carol while he's working."

(Y/N) nodded. "It's very nice of him to have us here considering how my parents tend to treat him."

Bernard thought back to the comment Sylvia had made earlier. The strained relationship between Scott and his in-laws wasn't anything new to him. Scott had mentioned it a few times before, most recently when he was voicing his concerns about bringing Bud and Sylvia to the Pole with Bernard in private. It was evident that both Newman sisters also noticed how their parents treated Scott, and it seemed neither of them were too happy with it.

"I understand why mom and dad get upset," (Y/N) continued. "One minute Carol was a proud principal at the local middle school, and then the next thing we know she's writing us to tell us she got married to a guy we've never even heard of and moved off to Canada to be with him. I mean, even I was skeptical then. But when she'd write to me about Scott and about being here, it was clear that she was so happy and she found the man of her dreams. Who are we to judge the quickness that they got married? As long as she's safe and happy, which she clearly is. But mom and dad don't see it that way. Dad is still convinced that Scott is a cult leader who stole Carol away or something."

(Y/N) paused and looked at Bernard. He had been listening as she spoke, just nodding along and not saying a word. She chuckled a little and shook her head. "Sorry, I'm rambling on about my family drama."

"No! It's-it's fine. Trust me, I've heard similar stuff from Sa - Scott."

She gave him a look. "You keep stuttering on Scott's name."

"Yeah."

He couldn't think of a better explanation besides that. He felt an unfamiliar burning sensation in his cheeks. He wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or just from being so close to her that made him feel that way. She giggled, though; a sound more beautiful than any of the twinkling bells that were often heard around the Pole.

"I'm just glad to be here," she said. "And I'm glad mom and dad can be here for when the baby is born. Maybe that will help them be a little less harsh on Scott."

She finished what was left in her mug and looked around the oversized kitchen. When Bernard realized she was probably trying to figure out where to put the dirty mug, he said, "Oh, I can take care of that for you."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. You're our guest, and I can handle this."

She smiled and passed him the mug. "Well, thanks for talking to me, Bernard. I guess I should try to sleep again."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Bernard." She started towards the door, but then paused to turn back to him. "I hope you're not too busy tomorrow. I'd like to spend more time with you."

His face was on fire as she left.

~~~~~~

For the first time in his thousands of years as the head elf, Bernard wasn't concerned with his head elf duties. Of course he was still there if Santa needed him, but he decided not to spend the entire day in the factory and to seek out (Y/N) to spend time with her. She was delighted to see him and was more than happy to accept his offer to show her around "Canada" for the day.

This became a regular occurrence for a few days. Bernard would make sure to check in often to see if he was needed, but if he wasn't he was with (Y/N). He would feel bad about taking her away from her time with her family, but it seemed her parents were more concerned with fussing over Carol than they were about all four of them spending time together. And (Y/N) also assured Bernard that she was making time for Carol and her family as well as spending time with him.

Bernard was more than well aware he was falling in love with (Y/N), and he was also more than well aware of how bad that was. Elves falling in love was nothing new; he had officiated quite a few elf weddings in his time. But falling in love with a human was out of the question. Elves were immortal, humans were not. Scott and Carol were different - upon becoming Santa and Mrs. Claus, their aging processes had slowed down considerably. They weren't completely immortal, but they weren't aging as fast as normal humans did. But that wasn't possible for a human that an elf fell in love with. Even if (Y/N) felt the same way towards Bernard, she would still continue to age while he would stay the same for the rest of time.

But he couldn't stop himself. He was falling fast and hard. Carol's due date was creeping closer, and once it came it would only be a matter of time before the Newman family would have to go back home, meaning that (Y/N) would leave and likely would not come back. That thought hurt Bernard.

Bernard was approaching where (Y/N) was staying one day when she slipped out of the house instead. He was surprised; she had never left before he had gotten there before.

As he got closer he realized that her face was tearstained.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

(Y/N) jumped and turned to look at him. "Oh, Bernard. Sorry, I didn't see you coming. Nothing's wrong."

He was about to point out that she was very obviously upset over something when the door opened again and Sylvia slipped out. She looked like she was about to say something, but she noticed Bernard and gave him a tight smile, one that he had come to learn was very much her fake smile.

"Hello, Bernard," she said. "I was just having a conversation with my daughter. We were talking about spending the day with Carol. We haven't had an all girls day since we arrived. So, unfortunately, I don't think she'll be able to spend time with you today."

"No mom," (Y/N) said. "I said I would join you later for girls time. Besides, you know Carol has an appointment with the doctor. She won't be ready till later."

Her mother was smiling but her eyes were glaring daggers into the younger Newman girl. (Y/N) held the glare before turning to Bernard and taking hold of his arm. She didn't say anything as she dragged him away. He followed anyways, wanting to get as far away from Sylvia as he could.

"God, I don't understand what is wrong with her," (Y/N) said, letting go of Bernard long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I swear she just doesn't want Carol and I to be happy."

"What was she saying?" Bernard asked.

"Oh, she was going off about the fact that I spend so much time with you. Had her usual rant about Scott taking her precious daughter away from her and dad, and then said she'll be damned if she lets it happen with me too. Basically tried to guilt me into not spending time with you today by saying that Carol was upset that she didn't get to see me much, which I know isn't true because just the other day Carol was saying how happy she was that you and I were getting along."

She shook her head. "I'm so sick of it. It's like she can't wrap her head around the fact that maybe, just maybe, life is so busy here that Carol doesn't always have time to visit. It has nothing to do with Scott being manipulative or a cult leader or whatever conspiracy her and dad have cooked up on a certain day."

Bernard listened in silence. He felt bad that (Y/N) had to have these issues with her mother. Carol was hearing it all now, but he was sure (Y/N) heard much more of it when she was back home with her parents.

None of the Newmans could ever understand the way things were with Carol and Scott. They could never know why things were like this, but they likely wouldn't understand even if they knew.

Unless...

It was an idea that shocked even Bernard that he had it. Head elf of the North Pole, Santa's righthand man himself, considering such a thing? After being so against Carol's family coming to the Pole? It was preposterous. But his brain was so clouded by love for (Y/N) that he wasn't thinking proper.

"Come with me," he said. He didn't wait for an answer, just took hold of her hand and pulled her towards the workshop.

His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in hips pointed ears. He had to remind himself there was no going back. This was going to be huge, and it could likely get him into a world of trouble.

He opened the doors to the workshop and (Y/N) stepped in. She looked around in awe at the working elves, most of which were not hiding their ears as the workshop was supposed to be off limits to the Newmans. None of them seemed to notice the two of them enter, and if they did, nothing was said.

Bernard watched (Y/N), nervously waiting for her reaction.

"Is this...what I think it is?" she asked him. "No, it can't be. I must be dreaming. I fell and hit my head and now I'm in a coma having a very vivid dream that all of these small people who are supposed to be Canadians have pointed ears like they're elves."

When she looked over at him, Bernard had taken off his hat and allowed his ears to peak out from under his hair.

"I've lost it," she decided.

"You haven't," he assured her. "All of this is real. It's why Carol hasn't been able to visit as much, or why you couldn't visit until now. Look, there's so much to know about all of this. So much that I want to tell you but technically I can't because there are strict rules about humans knowing about the North Pole."

(Y/N) had another quick moment of shock that she was able to very quickly recover from. "Rules that you're currently breaking by showing me...Santa's workshop. By admitting that you're an elf, these are all elves...oh my God, my sister is Mrs. Claus."

"It is all very complicated," he said. "But you deserve to know that Carol is truly happy here. She's not being held against her will, Santa isn't manipulative or holding her captive. He loves her so much that he risked you and your parents finding out about him - about us - so that all of you could be here for her while she's pregnant."

(Y/N) still seemed to be stunned. She looked around the bustling factory again, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Wait," she said. "But...if you all went through so much to make us think this was Canada, to keep who Scott is a secret...then why are you telling me now?"

Because I love you. Because I want you to stay. Because I want to be with you more than anything, even though I know that will never happen.

"Because I want you to know the truth," he replied. "About all of this. About...about me."

She was looking at him. He didn't know what else to say, so he just looked back. He waited for an answer. He willed her to say something, anything.

She didn't say anything, though. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed Bernard. It was quick, almost hesitant, and when she pulled away she looked embarrassed.

"Sorry," she said. "I...should I have done that? I should've asked first. Was it okay that I did that?"

He smiled. "It was more than okay."

"Okay. I'm...I'm going to do it again, if that's still okay."

Bernard chuckled and moved in to kiss (Y/N) first. He had only ever kissed one person before - when he was young one of the other elves had gave him a quick peck on the lips and ran away afterwards. Not exactly something glamorous or anything like that. So he was a little worried about whether or not he was a good kisser. Although, something felt so natural about kissing (Y/N), like he could never do it wrong even if he tried.

He paused when he realized a slight hush had fallen over the workshop. He and (Y/N) pulled away to see that all the working elves had stopped what they were doing to look at the two of them.

"Back to work!" Bernard commanded. They all quickly fell back into what they had been doing before. "Bunch of gossips, all of them. Everyone in town will know about this by nightfall."

"I don't blame them. I'd assume it's not every day that they see an elf kissing a human."

He chuckled. "No, I guess not."

They decided to step out of the workshop to talk more in private. (Y/N) looped her arm through Bernard's as they walked, a gesture that suddenly felt much more intimate than it had before.

"I guess it goes without saying that I can't tell anyone about this," she said. "Not even my parents."

"No. Which I know is a big ask, but we can't have the secret of Santa going around," Bernard explained.

"Not like anyone would believe me. They'd think I was crazy if I went home talking about how my brother in law is Santa and how I started crushing on one of his elves. They'd sent me to an institute for sure."

Bernard smiled at her word choice. So she had liked him this whole time, too. Had it been obvious? Or had she been trying to contain it just as much as he did?

"How...would things work...for us then?" she asked.

It was the question he was dreading. The one he continued to ask himself despite knowing the answer to: it wouldn't. He couldn't let (Y/N) hold on to him when she left the Pole. She'd likely never see him again, which was for the best.

Seeing the look on his face, (Y/N) stopped. "No, do not tell me it's not going to work."

"It can't work, (Y/N). There's too much complications between a human and an elf being romantically linked. It's never happened before, and for good reason."

"There's a first for everything."

He shook his head. "No, there can't be a first for this. I can't let you throw away any other romantic opportunities you have for me. We may never see each other after this visit."

"My sister is married to Santa. There's no way I'm not coming back after this. And besides, long distance relationships are a thing."

"This one would be...very long distance."

She slid her arm from his and took his hand in hers. "I'm willing to try. I like you too much to give up without a fight."

Every rational part of his brain was screaming for him to stop. He could not let things go further. It was better for her if they ended everything after that first kiss and went hteir separate ways.

But the less rational part of his brain was louder than the rest, telling him not to give up this chance at happiness outside of work. He deserved to love and to be loved, just like anyone else in the world. If it worked for Scott, it had to work for him too, right?

He sighed and squeezed her hands. "It won't be easy."

"I don't expect it to be."

"You won't be able to be here a lot unless you're willing to give up everything the way Carol did."

"That's fine, we can make that work."

"And if you do end up coming here permanently, you can't tell anyone who I really am, or who Scott and Carol really are. You'll have to lie to everyone in your life. Is that something you can be okay with?"

(Y/N) stepped closer to him so that their noses were nearly touching. "I'm already lying about Scott and Carol. What's one more lie about the man I love?"

Love.

It was enough for him to abandon all hope at resisting her. He closed the space between them, kissing her again so passionately that it made her head spin. She wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself, while he wrapped his arms around her waist.

He could've kissed her forever. He could've stood there, wrapped around her and her wrapped around him, the cold nipping at them but barely bothering them, forever. He wanted to take this moment and freeze it, to never have to go back to his busy life as Santa's right hand elf ever again.

But she pulled away first, resting her forehead against his.

"I did promise my mom a girl's day," she said with a sigh. "And I think if I blow her off for this, she'll probably actually kill me."

"I guess I'll have to let you go then."

But he didn't, and she didn't let go of him. They laughed and kissed again.

It would be another several minutes before he would finally (and reluctantly) let her go.

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

🎁🎄Christmas Elf - Lando Norris

<word count - 2512>

You'd been at McLaren for two weeks, so that meant unfortunately (or not so much) that you were unable to participate in secret santa with them this year. Everyone had gathered in the break room, leaving you at your desk to carry on working. 

You didn't really mind, since it would have been hard for you or whoever got you if you had taken part. As you stared at you screen, you mindlessly fiddled with the charms on your bracelet. No one else was working, so you didn't feel bad that you weren't. 

It would've been nice to celebrate some of the Christmas cheer, but it was fine. "Hey Y/N?" someone called. You looked up, seeing your boss stood in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"Someone left this under the tree for you," he smiled, bringing the small bag and setting it down on your desk. "But my name wasn't pulled?" 

"I know, but someone was feeling the Christmas spirit," he lightly chuckled, disappearing back into the break room. You looked at it for a moment, pulling it closer to you so that you could peer inside. All you could see was a small white box, and you were curious, to say the least. 

Reading the tag attached, it only made you more curious. 'Dear Y/N, I know you weren't included in secret santa this year, but I figured you deserved a gift as well. I saw this, and thought it would fit perfectly with your collection. Merry Christmas, X'

Reaching your hand in, you pulled the box out and placed it in front of you, trying to figure out what it was before you opened it. You gave in pretty quickly, lifting the lid of the box. You couldn't help but smile as you saw the tiny race car charm for your bracelet. 

You failed to notice the pair of eyes watching you as you grinned, holding it between your fingers. It was absolutely lovely, even the tiniest details were perfectly etched onto it. It was like a like-for-like replica of the cars that were in the show room downstairs, and you loved it. 

You quickly clipped it to your bracelet, and it was instantly one of your favourites that you had. As the whole day went by, you found your eyes wandering down to the charm on your wrist, and you couldn't help but smile at it every time. 

You wanted to know who to thank for the overwhelmingly thoughtful gift, since no one had signed off the card, or left any indication as to who they were. Surely it wouldn't be too hard to figure it out, since someone was bound to have seen the gift be put under the tree. 

Throughout the day, you were still being watched by the person, and he felt that the look on your face was absolutely priceless. His note was just a little white lie, as well. Yes, he had wanted you to be included in secret santa, but that was simply a front. 

He would have gotten the charm for you regardless, but the gift giving in the office provided the perfect way for him to secretly gift it to you. He had been brainstorming the present ever since you stepped foot in the office, and it was not something that was on the every day market. He had to use some connections, but the smile of pure joy on your face was worth it. 

Meanwhile, you had been asking around the office, seeing if anyone had seen the gift when they put theirs down. It took a while, but you eventually located the first person who had put their present down. "Hey Jim, are you free for a minute?" you asked, approaching Jim in the breakroom. 

"Sure Y/N, what's up?" he replied, turning to face you. 

"Were you the first person to put down your secret santa gift?"

"No, there was already one under the tree. They must've been in early," he told you.

"Did it happen to look like this?" you asked, placing the bag that your charm was in down on the table in front of him. "Yeah, that was the only thing under the tree when I went,"

"Did you see anyone else around? Do you know who else was there?" you pressed, desperate to know who had bought you the present. "Sorry, I didn't see anyone else. The first person that I saw was Lando, but that was just after one of the meetings downstairs." Jim explained. 

"But there weren't any meetings today, well, none that Lando had to be in," you eyed him skeptically. "That was just what he said,"

"OK, thanks Jim. Merry Christmas," you smiled as you walked away. Why would Lando lie? He must've had his reasons, but you couldn't think of any point in it. He was Lando Norris, if he wanted to be here, then he was allowed to be. 

He was the star of the show in this place, he didn't need a reason to hang around, he just could. Anyway, your search that had lead to Jim had proven fruitless, so you headed back to your desk after your lunch break had been spent on a wild goose chase. 

After finally engrossing yourself in your work, you noticed someone stood in front of your desk. "Hey Lando," you said, without even looking up from your computer. He had probably just come to ask if you could cancel his meetings for tomorrow or something. 

"Hey Y/N, how are you doing?" he smiled, leaning over your desk with his arms propping him up. You found the grin on his face slightly suspicious, but Lando always had a hidden agenda. He was always up to something. 

"Not bad thanks, you?"

"Yeah, I'm good, I'm good." you replied, bring your hand to your face to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.  "Nice bracelet. I like the car, very apt," he said, grabbing your hand to inspect your wrist. His hands were warm, his fingertips gentle on the skin of your wrist.

"Oh yeah, it's really pretty, isn't it? I'm trying to figure out who gave it to me, you have any ideas?" you asked, failing to see the glint of mischief in his eye. You were completely oblivious, and he was thoroughly enjoying it. 

"No, sorry, not a clue. But I'm sure they'll reveal themselves at some point. See you later, good luck on your quest," he grinned, pushing himself away from the desk and walking away from you. 

"Bye Lando," you replied, and he was gone as quickly as he had gotten to you. You found the nature of his visit slightly odd, but you didn't think anything of it. 

The rest of your day was spent without knowing a single thing about the mystery sweetheart who had given you your gift, and you desperately wanted to thank them for their efforts. You'd spend time just staring at it, as if you were hoping it would reveal its previous owner. 

You were still being watched, the person having a smug smirk plastered on his face. He could see the cogs turning in your head, confusion written all over your features. He'd let the scepticism simmer for a while, and then he'd tell you. 

Or maybe not. He'd see. 

--

The next morning, you walked into the office to see your desk was different. The best kind of different. Your computer had a string of multi-coloured Christmas lights draped over the monitor, and there was a mini Christmas tree sat to the side of it. 

It was decorated with mini baubles, and had an adorable little star on the top. On the surface of your desk, fake snow had been sprinkled around and it looked like a small winter wonderland right on your desk. 

Placed on your keyboard was another note: 'Dear Y/N, the whole office is decorated, so I thought that your desk could be too. I hope you like it, X'. You put the note in your desk drawer along with the other, hoping you could use them to find out who had given you the gift and decorated your desk.

"Jim? Did you see?" you called out to Jim, who was sat at his desk, typing away at something.

"It was like that when I got here," he said with a smile, quickly turning his attention back to his computer. Nobody arrived to work before Jim, absolutely nobody. And even if someone had, he surely would have seen them near your desk and mentioned it to you. 

"Nice decorations, Y/N," Lando said, appearing at your side, and scanning his eyes over your desk. "Was it the mystery Christmas elf again?"

"Yeah, and it is so cute. I love it," you beamed, "I don't know who they are, and I need to thank them for this. It's just so lovely," you rambled, your eyes shining with delight. 

"Still not close to figuring it out?" 

"No, my best guess is Jim at the moment, but I don't know," you shook your head, Jim being the only logical person. "Jim?!" Lando spluttered, his eyes widening in shock. Out of all the people in the office, you came to the conclusion it was Jim.

"He's the only one who is here when stuff happens. He was here when my gift was put under the tree, and he was here when my desk was decorated," you explained your conclusion to deciding Jim was your mystery Christmas elf.

"He doesn't seem like the type to me, if I'm being honest," Lando diverted his shock and slight worry away from Jim.

"Why not? You know something I don't, Norris?" you teased, nudging him.

"I, uhm, no. I just don't want you getting the wrong idea, that's all," he said, trying to hide the panic in his voice. He didn't want you to know just yet. He liked seeing you all frazzled, confused, unknowing. He was proud of himself for having pulled it off. 

"Don't worry Lando, I know you would've told me if you knew," you smirked, turning your attention back to the people around the office. Not a single on of them looked like the people who could be your mystery Christmas elf, and you were at a loss. 

"Yeah, I would've," he nodded, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself of the fact instead of genuinely believing it. "You're coming to the party tonight, right? The end of year thing?" Lando asked, changing the subject. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there," you nodded, looking forward to your first McLaren Christmas party, hopefully, of many. "You coming?"

"I sure will be," he smiled, "I'll see you later,"

--

The festive spirit enveloped the office as twinkling lights adorned the words and tinsel sparkled around every corner. Your first of many annual Christmas parties was now in full swing, and your office suddenly didn't seem so bad as your colleagues filled the air with laughter. 

"Lando, you'll never guess what," you said, leaving out any sort of greeting when you approached Lando after finding him in the middle of the party. He had to do a double take when he saw you, for once the lack of papaya bringing him pure joy. 

He couldn't put a word to your appearance in his mind that quite did it justice, but the closest he could find was perfect. Just... everything about you was simply perfect, and the beaming smile plastered on your face was more dazzling than the star atop the Christmas tree. "What?"

"I got a package in the mail from my Christmas elf the minute I arrived home," you excitedly told him.

"Oh really? What did they send you this time?" he asked, glad the plan had been pulled off to perfection. He was very proud of himself, he had been doing a great job over the past couple of days to get everything that he needed to be done, done. 

"Aren't they the prettiest?" you giggled, pulling your hair back to show off the dangling, golden Christmas tree earrings that had arrived at your door. 

"They really are," he nodded, thoroughly satisfied with the results of his Christmas escapade. While Lando's brain was being smug, you couldn't help but stare at him. Yes, he always looked good, that was a given, but he was looking extra snazzy tonight.

Something about that man in suit just hit different. A very good different indeed.  "This person must really like you then, huh?"

"Yeah, and I'd really like to know who they are," you grinned, wanting to know who this mystery person was. They had brought so much light and joy to you in the past couple days, and you wanted to be able to thank them.

"I mean, decorating your desk, sending stuff in the post, making sure yours was the first gift under the tree. That's dedication," he nodded, hoping you'd take the bait and talk about how amazing he- sorry, I mean your Christmas elf was. 

"How'd you know it was the first under the tree? I never told you it was," you said, the pieces clicking together in your head. 

"Did you not? Huh, lucky guess," Lando nervously chuckled, trying to dig himself out of the suddenly deep hole he had found himself in. 

"You didn't have a meeting yesterday morning, did you Lando?" you pressed, finally settling on the idea that it was indeed not Jim, but Lando Norris himself. 

"No..." 

"So why were you in the office early?" you further poked, wanting to hear it straight from the horse's mouth. 

"To put your present under the tree," he admitted, looking right into your eyes. Surely you wouldn't change your mind on the graciousness of your Christmas elf just because it was Lando, right? He just loved bringing joy to you, and seeing you so happy made him joyous beyond belief. 

With a beaming smile, you couldn't stop yourself as you leant in, closing the distance between the two of you. Time seemed to slow as your lips met, a gentle kiss that carried the spirit of Christmas, the joy of the season, and perhaps the hint of something more. 

Your surrounding co-workers pointed and were shocked, but they didn't find it unusual. Lando had been sneaking around the place a lot recently, and they all clocked on a lot quicker than you did. 

As you pulled away, your eyes were locked together, and you couldn't help but share a knowing smile. Looking to your left, you saw Jim stood there, a mischievous smirk dancing on his lips. Over your heads, he held a sprig of mistletoe. "Really Jim?" you laughed. 

"Merry Christmas," he chuckled back, leaving you and Lando stood there. The party continued around you, but it might as well have just been you and Lando in the room. 

"Thank you, so much," you breathlessly said.

"What else is a Christmas elf for?" he softly chuckled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

"Merry Christmas," you smiled, kissing him on the cheek. This was, without a doubt, the best secret santa gift you had ever gotten, and would probably ever get. 

A/N - Merry Christmas part 2! I have so many Christmas ideas, but there is only one joyful season per year, and I have a lot of other stuff that needs writing, so it may be saved until next year... We'll see. Would you guys mind getting Christmas stuff in the middle of the year? Lmk! Requests are open, love you loads 💖

|masterlist|

[chrisevansonly]

𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐞’ 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 (𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜 4)

��𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: lewis doesn’t know what to think when he comes home to see roscoe dressed as santa…but he knows just who’s behind it

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none, very fluffy!!

𝐚/𝐧: welcome to fic number 4!! this little drabble event has been so fun so far, I FUCKING LOVE CHRISTMAS!!

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

“Roscoe stay…don’t move baby..”

You smiled fixing the little santa hat on his head gently as the bulldog grumbled at your antics, which only made you laugh more.

“I know, I know but just a bit longer…”

Taking your phone in your hand you begun to take a few photos, the lights on the Christmas tree behind you only adding more of that holiday feeling to every picture.

“What is going on here?”

At the sound of your husbands voice you turned, Lewis leaning against the doorframe to the living room, watching you with curious eyes, the smallest smile tugging at his lips

“Tell him Roscoe, say mumma dressed me up to take pictures for a holiday card!”

The dog only made a growl like noise back as he shook the hat off, eliciting a laugh from the British driver as he pushed off the door frame.

“Hmm torturing him then my love?”

Feigning fake hurt you pouted, turning towards Lewis

“Now that’s just mean baby…he likes it!”

“He does?”

You nodded, Lewis smiling softly at the cute little look on your face before cradling your head in his hands, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips sweetly

“I think he looks cute, even if you’re torturing him” he stated, thumbs rubbing at the apples of your cheeks

“I’m not torturing him…he’s our child, i’m allowed to force him into cute christmas hats and clothes!”

“For now…”

A twinge of warmth spread through your face at the comment Lewis had made, a secret only the two of you knew so far, in a few months time you’d be welcoming another addition to your family. Something the two of you had been waiting for, for as long as you both could remember.

“Yeah..for now baby..which means it’s elf hat time Roscoe!”

Lewis broke out into a laugh watching as the bulldog took off towards the kitchen, you following after him as the elf hat jingled in your hands. These memories as your last Christmas just the two of you would be so special to him, knowing next time you’d have a little bundle of joy to join in on the festivities.

Maybe this would mean Roscoe could finally stop wearing all the funny holiday hats…well just maybe.

[headkiss]

I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE HOTCH! ❤️ He’s so soft and I can’t ; -;.

For Christmas requests, can I request the team trying to set up Hotch and reader through either mistletoe or Secret Santa? TY!

hiii thank you so much!! i hope u like it <3 merry christmas and happy holidays! 🫶🎄 | 0.6k of fluff

Unbeknownst to you, the team has been trying to get you and Hotch together for ages.

They’ve seen the way you steal glances at him on the jet, when his head is bent and he’s focused on his paperwork, seen the way he steals glances at you, too. They’ve also seen the two of you grow close, a deliberate yet soft squeeze of the shoulder here, a shared smile there.

They also know that neither of you can tell that the other feels exactly the same. so they’ve decided to take things into their own hands.

“Hey,” Emily grabs your attention, your head lifting to look over at her.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you could ask Hotch for that file from the Seattle case for me?” She faux sighs, “I’m too focused on this report to leave it right now.”

“Okay,” you nod, pushing up from your desk. “No problem.”

You don’t suspect anything, partially because you’re just a little bit oblivious sometimes, and partially because you figure she’s just trying to get things done to get home quicker on the holidays, and you don’t blame her.

Christmas at the BAU isn’t the most festive one, except for the small tree that Garcia has insisted should be put up every year. Other than that, it’s business as usual.

Or, it should be.

You walk up the few stairs to get to Hotch’s office, knocking on the open door when you get there. Aaron stands from his desk when he sees you, meeting you by the doorframe.

“Hi,” you say, “sorry, Emily asked if I could-”

It’s then that you notice a piece of mistletoe taped sloppily—Derek’s work, probably—to the top of the door. Aaron follows your gaze upwards and notices it, too.

“Oh,” you look back to his face, “I had no idea that was there, I’ll just-”

Hotch catches your wrist as you turn to leave, gently tugging you into his office and closing the door behind the two of you, giving you privacy from the team that had been hoping their plan would work.

“I didn’t know, either,” he says, his fingers still around your wrist, warm and rough, but his touch is soft. “If they’re making you uncomfortable with this, I can talk to them.”

You shake your head, shuffling on your feet, far too aware of his hand on your skin, of his eyes kind and searching. “No, no it’s not that. It’s just- it’s silly, right? Them thinking that we’d, um, kiss.”

“Is it?” He asks, because he’s wanted to kiss you for a long time, and even though he’s afraid, he thinks it’s time you know that. Time the team gets off his ass about it, too.

“Hotch,” your voice has gone quieter, unsure that he means what you think he does, what you want him to mean.

“Aaron,” he corrects gently.

Your chest rises on your intake of breath, Aaron stepping a bit closer to you, your shoes nearly toe to toe.

“You don’t think it’s silly, Aaron?”

“No, I don’t.” His free hand pushes your hair away from your face, fingers staying on your jawline afterwards. “I’ve liked you for a long time, and they know it.”

“Oh, wow,” you shift so that he’s holding your hand rather than your wrist, fingers tangling easily. You think that maybe it’s the holidays that make you braver, the love in the air, “I like you, too.”

It feels so juvenile to say it that way, especially where Hotch—Aaron—is concerned, but it’s all you can muster with his hands on you and his gaze flicking to your mouth.

“I’d rather not do it here, but I do want to kiss you,” he says. “Any dinner plans today?”

“No. Not as of now, at least.”

“Have dinner with me?”

“Okay,” your answer is easy.

And that night, after dinner, when he does kiss you on your porch, Christmas lights illuminating your faces, you’re thankful for the mistletoe.

[joelscurls]

a heart for melting

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: post-outbreak, implied age gap, themes surrounding child loss and grief, some angst but mostly festive fluff, grumpy x sunshine dynamics (Joel is a grinch & reader loves the holidays), reader is described as having long-ish hair

summary: Jackson's first annual Holiday Market brings about more than just cheer.

a/n: Merry Christmas @thetriumphantpanda; I'm your pedrostories secret santa! I hope you enjoy this lil festive take on grumpy!joel x sunshine!reader — I had lots of fun writing it 🤍🎄 🥧 🪵 🦌

Joel doesn’t want to be here — surrounded by garland and ribbons and so much unadulterated joy, it’s nauseating. No, he was forced to be here. 

Please, Ellie had begged, it’ll be good for you to do something other than patrol or drinking with Tommy. Plus, they’re too good to keep to yourself.

They, being wood carvings — the tiny sculptures of deer and bears and birds, tufts of hair and bunches of feathers drawn out of driftwood with the tip of his blade. It was only ever meant to be a hobby, a way to busy his hands after they’d been wrapped around the cold metal of his rifle all day. Something lighter, creative rather than destructive, an act of giving rather than taking. 

But sharing them with other people? He hadn’t been interested. Maybe he’d make one for Ellie or Tommy. Wrap it up in a piece of cloth and offer it as a gift for their birthday.

Not that he thought they were any good, really.

With the announcement of Jackson’s first annual Holiday Market, though, came Ellie’s pleading. “I’ll help you,” she’d bargained. “You don’t even have to give me anything!”

“Who said I would anyway?” he’d grumbled, digging his spoon into the bottom of his bowl of stew and sifting out a chunk of meat.

Joel despises the Holiday Season. He’d welcomed its disappearance with the end of the world. Because he had no reason to celebrate, with Sarah gone. Her absence stung like salt in an open wound on any normal day. But on Christmas, memories of her hanging her favorite ornaments on the tree and sneaking one of the cookies baked for Santa burned behind his eyelids. Left him heaving through hot tears.

The holidays had no place in his world, but they certainly had a place in Jackson. The first time he and Ellie had strode through those gates, they’d been met with that damned Christmas Tree, towering over the settlement like a beacon. And he hated it, hated the way it brought about that pounding in his chest and that spinning in his head. 

How could anyone find any good in such a poignant reminder of loss? 

Tommy says it’s about new beginnings, finding ways to be happy again. And what’s happier ‘n Christmas? God damn Santa Clause, hot chocolate, children singin’ carols?

Still, Joel isn’t convinced — not yet.

Standing across the mess hall, at your table piled high with baked goods, you are far too cheerful. You’re humming some song with a jovial beat, absentmindedly swaying as you rearrange rows of gingerbread and muffins and scones — all of which are draped in white icing, like flocking on Christmas trees. You pause to wish a happy holiday to everyone who passes through. 

Joel knows he’s seen you before, flitting in and out of the community’s kitchen, always with that signature smile scrawled across your face.

And god, you’re so bubbly, taking to everyone you meet like a bee to honey, letting them in without a care in the world. Popping from table to table, making sure they have enough to eat. That they’re doing well.

It shouldn’t surprise him that you’re so…spirited, too. You seem to find the good in everyone and everything, after all.

It infuriates him, nonetheless.

Joel groans to himself. Stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans as an elderly couple rounds on him. 

He grumbles a hello to them when they approach. They offer him half-smiles in return, beginning to pick up some of the carvings laid out on the table — turning them, inspecting them.

“This one’s nice,” the man says to his wife. She hums in agreement. 

“You got any tigers?” the man asks.

“Tigers?”

“Yeah — I used to love ‘em as a kid.”

“Got what’s on the table,” Joel grumbles. 

“You make ‘em custom? I can offer some homemade jam in return — elderberry.”

Joel sighs in annoyance. 

“Don’t make ‘em custom. Got what I got.”

The man seems defeated, nodding and walking off without another word. The woman follows closely behind.

Just as they leave, Ellie appears. She sidles up to Joel and shrugs her jacket off. Pulls a chair up next to him.

“There’s so much cool shit here!” she exclaims, too loud. A judgemental set of eyes flit her direction. She glares right back at them.

“Do you mind?” Joel huffs, jaw ticking.

“Jesus, who pissed in your Cheerios?” 

“How do you even know what Cheerios are?”

“Don’t,” she admits. “I read it in a book.” 

“Of course you did.”

Ellie leans back in her chair, pulling an apple out of her backpack and biting into it. She shuffles some of the carvings around on the table. “Gotta fill in these gaps, man,” she says, juice dribbling down her chin.

Joel ignores her. He sneaks a glance at you; finds that you’re already looking. Your expression is unreadable, gaze unmoving as he studies you.

Despite your upbeat disposition bothering him, he can’t deny that you’re gorgeous: bright, beckoning eyes, siren-like smile — it’s like you’re peering into his soul. 

He didn’t think he still had one of those.

“Dude.” Ellie nudges him. He peels his eyes from you reluctantly. “I asked how many takers you’ve had.”

“Uh.” He pretends to think. 

“You have no fucking idea, do you? Too busy staring at that girl.”

“Wasn’t starin’,” he clips defensively.

“No? Well she’s coming over here, man.”

Sure enough, you’re striding right toward him, abandoning your post. Joel barely has time to prepare for impact.

He unconsciously straightens up and pulls his hands out of his pockets. He brushes them on his jeans just as you stop in front of his table.

“Hi there,” you say.

“Hi!” Ellie chimes.

You pick up a carving of a two-headed deer. His favorite.

“This is beautiful,” you coo. “The craftsmanship is lovely.” You’re running a finger along the grooves in the wood, holding the piece delicately in the palm of your hand — as if it’s made of glass, not wood. “You have a real gift…”

“Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeat. He ignores how sweet his name sounds coming out of your mouth. You tell him your name, and it fits you, he thinks. It’s pretty.

“How long have you been making them?”

“Just since I got to Jackson. ‘ts somethin’ to pass the time.”

You nod. Continue scanning over the intricacies of the deer. “I was never much of a baker before I got here, either,” you joke, gesturing back toward your table.

“Good one,” Ellie laughs. “You’re funny — isn’t she funny, Joel?”

In his head, he’s glowering at her. Outwardly, he feigns amusement.

“Real funny.”

“I’d love to see how you make these sometime,” you say, then, placing the deer back on the table gingerly. “Do you have a workshop?”

“In our shed,” Ellie pipes in before he can say anything. “You should come by tomorrow! Joel’s off patrol.”

He shoots her daggers. She pretends not to notice.

“I’d love that! I have to work in the kitchen, though. I could come by after?”

Joel starts to shake his head no. Ellie’s hand wraps around his arm like a vice grip. He stills.

“Sure,” he grits.

“I can bring some pastries, if you’d like.”

“Don’t like sweets.” 

“Oh,” you say, a little thwarted, but you’re undeterred. You shift on your feet. Chew your bottom lip. “Well, how about something not sweet, then?”

Your brows lift, narrowed eyes on him as you await a response. Joel still isn’t thrilled about the prospect of a visitor. Really, he doesn’t like anyone on his property that isn’t Ellie, or Tommy and Maria if he’s invited them. But you don’t seem so bad, offering to bring him food. 

He can probably deal with your sunny disposition in exchange for a full belly. Lord knows he went too long without that luxury, and he’d be a fool to deny himself of it ever again.

So, he agrees, the garbled sure less than enthusiastic leaving his mouth. Still, you don’t seem too offended. In fact, you smirk at him, wordlessly sauntering back to your table, sneaking glances at him every so often for the remainder of the afternoon.

Sure enough, the next evening, while Joel is whittling in the shed, you show up.

You’re wielding a basket of savory hand pies, as promised, and Joel has to stop himself from drooling. They smell incredible. And they’re still warm, somehow, steam wafting off of them even after your walk here.

“Come in,” he gruffs, his nose following the scent like a dog’s as he trails behind you inside.

His set up is minimal: a rocking chair next to a bench, a couple stools he made for when Tommy comes by to play poker. But his works are scattered throughout, every surface in the small room cluttered with little carvings.

He settles atop one of the stools as you begin to wander around the room, plucking sculptures off shelves and awing at them with such genuine admiration, it causes something to pull in his chest.

Every so often, you make a remark about the details in a piece, how the fur on the deer looks real, how you can practically smell the replica evergreen in your grasp.

And something shifts — carried by your kind words through the stuffy shed.

Taken by the slight lilt in your voice when you speak to him, the almost-shy smile that pulls at the corners of your lips — Joel is attracted to you.

He’s following the line of your neck down to your collarbone, ogling at the exposed skin there when you pick another carving up off the shelf. And he feels guilty — he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. You’re just being nice, being neighborly, and he’s gawking at you like you’d have any interest in him.

No; you’re young, beautiful, could do a lot better than an old grump like him. 

He averts his gaze quickly when you suddenly set down the tiny, carved bird that had been in your palm, round the workbench and perch yourself atop the stool next to his. You retrieve a handpie out of the basket and pass it over to him. 

“It has braised rabbit and carmelized onions in it,” you explain, taking a bite and letting the steam roll out. 

He follows suit and — it tastes just as good as it smells, if not better. He’s salivating again, letting the dough melt in his mouth before swallowing. 

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, getting through the entire basket in mere minutes.

When you’re finished, you ask him where he’s from. 

The question shouldn’t feel like such a shock to the system. But after a year of being in Jackson, successfully avoiding conversation about his life before the outbreak, it sets off a panging between his eyes, a dull ache in his viscera. 

“Texas,” he tells you plainly. “From Austin, originally.”

You nod. And you must be able to tell that he’s not used to talking about himself — by the tick of his jaw or the lack of eye contact — he’s not sure. Because you don’t pry. Instead, you say, “you can ask me something.”

He nods. Thinks on it for a moment.

“When did you arrive here? To Jackson?” 

Unlike him, you do not grimace at the intrusion. Instead, you tell him: about your parents, their untimely deaths, the harrowing road that led you here. You do not cry, but Joel can see the pain in your shiny eyes. 

It’s inevitable; there isn’t a single person here who hasn’t been dealt a bad hand. But you wear your past like a badge of honor, like you’re still grateful, after it all, to be alive.

Joel envies your tenacity.

So when you ask him about Ellie, if she is his daughter, he lets the walls around him down — just an inch. He doesn’t get upset when he stumbles over his words while telling you about Sarah. He finds comfort in confiding in you, in the way you so attentively listen, quietly nodding along as he recalls his version of the end of the world.

“Thank you,” you say when he’s done, burying his hands back in his pockets.

“For what?”

“For sharing that with me. I know it can be difficult to relive it.”

“I relive it everyday,” he admits. “Everything reminds me of her in one way or another.”

“I understand,” you nod. He believes you do.

So sweet, gaze like honey, you are an enigma to him. He hasn’t met many people who are kind just for the sake of it — not in a long while. Maybe that’s why he’d been so bothered by it at the market. It had felt almost unnatural to him, bound to be laced with an ulterior motive. 

He’s still learning how to trust people again. It doesn’t come easily after twenty-odd years of rationing it like the pills he’d stowed. Still, there is something innate about baring his soul to you. Letting you in through the cracks in his battered being. You are safe, he’s sure of it; benevolence radiating from you like warmth.

It drips off your tongue when you ask him to show you how he does his craft — slips down your fluttering lashes. No longer can he deny you of anything — he’s accepted this swiftly — and so he obliges.

A half-whittled fox materializes from his coat pocket, along with his blade. He passes both to you and pulls his stool closer to yours.

He guides you, taking your hand in his, encouraging the press of the blade into the wood. Shows you how to round out a corner with a subtle twist of the knife. You’re a fast learner, Joel notes, attentive, taking every instruction like gospel.

The slow drag of steel, your fingers wrapped tightly around the handle; you’re so focused that you jump slightly when he places a reassuring hand on your knee.

“Doin’ great, darlin’,” he says, and your lips pull around pearlescent teeth. Joel feels as enraptured by you as you do the carving — the loose tendrils of hair that drape over your shoulder, the clinging of cotton to your soft curves. Though he hardened into stone a long time ago, he feels smelted in your presence. So he cannot help it when his fingers begin to drift up your leg, settling at your side as he turns his body toward yours.

The blade stalls, tip still stuck into the wood, puncturing the fox’s non-existent spine, and your face lifts. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers. You nod, gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

You’re so close like this; Joel can smell the floral perfume dappled along your neck, can feel your warm breath fanning his face. He has half a mind to stop himself from sealing the sliver of distance left between you. But then you’re sighing, placing the blade and the wooden fox on the tabletop. And it’s your turn to guide him — winding your delicate fingers around his wrist and settling his hand at the small of your back.

The air in the tiny workshop grows heavy with unspoken desire, a longing to disrupt; to create. Your body forms to his languidly, arms interlocking behind his neck, fingers weaving in his hair to pull him closer to you. And then your lips press to his — hesitant at first, then not. You drink from each other until you are drunk, breathless and giddy when you separate. 

“That was nice,” you whisper, and Joel chuckles. 

“Just nice?”

“Great,” you amend. “It was great. Better than I imagined, even.”

“You imagined this?”

“Yes,” you smirk. “On a loop since I first saw you at the market.”

He pulls you back in. Gives you another chaste kiss. “For good measure.”

“Joel,” you say then, “will you and Ellie come by mine on Christmas? I could even cook — it’s just-”

“Yes,” he’s accepting before you can finish. “I’d love that. As long as you make more of those,” he gestures toward the empty basket on the workbench. 

“That can be arranged,” you grin.

As soon as you leave that evening — sent off with a goodbye muttered between slotted mouths — Joel starts on your Christmas present. 

end notes: thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you enjoyed <3

[ylangelegy]

all seok wants for christmas 🎄 seokmin x reader.

your fellow glee club member, seokmin, has been trying to confess to you for the better half of the past three years. key word: trying. maybe a christmas duet is in order to get the message across.

🎄 includes: alternate universe: non-idol, alternate universe: glee club. seokmin has a crush, confessions, fluff. word count: 1.4k 🎄 @tusswrites, surprise! it's me! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ hope you enjoy this little drabble, which i wrote while looping the glee version of all i want for christmas is you. love you lots and merry, merry christmas, my light! 🎄 this was written as part of cam&em studios' a very seventeen christmas secret santa event.

Seokmin has tried to confess to you seventeen and a half times.

He's done nearly everything in his power to get the message across. A letter in your locker? Check. An orchestrated, one-on-one walk in the rain? Check. Hell, he even begged Joshua to lock you two in the club room that one time.

It seems Seokmin's efforts are all futile— because you remain blissfully unaware of the fact he's kind of in love with you.

"No plans of giving up yet, Seok?"

The hushed question drags Seokmin out of his reverie. Mingyu at least had the decency to whisper the query, but Seokmin still instinctively looks towards you to check if you might have overheard. You look none the wiser as you engage in a conversation with Wonwoo.

Seokmin's grumbled response of "shut up" only makes Mingyu snicker.

"Year three of being down baaad," the taller man teases, sing-songing the words to vex Seokmin just a little more. It works; Seokmin elbows his friend in the side.

"I'll figure it out," Seokmin huffs, even though that's something he's said at least once a month since he first realized how he feels for you.

The glee club meeting of the day kicks off with Seungkwan offering reminders and pointers for the upcoming national show choir competition. Try as he might, Seokmin can't really bring himself to listen.

His focus is entirely on you.

From where he's seated, he can onlysee the side of your face, and he truly tries not to make his staring obvious. His friends have all teased him relentlessly for wearing his heart on his sleeve yet failing to offer that very heart to you when it matters.

Honestly? Seokmin feels like he's running out of ways to confess.

He's so caught up in his moping that he doesn't immediately register Seungkwan addressing him. Seokmin only snaps to attention when Mingyu knocks his knee.

"Hm?" Seokmin looks to Seungkwan. "Sorry, what was that?"

There's a ripple of laughter throughout the room. In the corner of his eye, Seokmin can see you biting back a smile. It makes the tips of his ears burn with embarrassment.

"I said," Seungkwan repeats exasperatedly. "I was hoping you could perform a Christmas song for the next club meeting."

Seokmin blinks once, then twice. Right. He was slotted to perform next week. "A Christmas song," he echoes, his mind still trying to sort through its thoughts of you. "Gotcha."

He's convinced that that's all there will be to it until Seungkwan goes on, "It could even be a duet, if that makes things easier for you."

Seokmin is just a second too late to the punch line, because you're already raising your hand. You look just the appropriate amount of excited as you call out, "I'd love to do a duet with Seok, if he'll have me."

He nearly chokes on air then and there.

If he'll have you? How can you say something like that and expect him to not want to pass out?

Mingyu is visibly fighting the urge to burst into laughter. Seungkwan has that annoying, knowing look on his face. None of it matters to Seokmin, though, because in that very moment, he realizes that maybe he has one more confession up his sleeve.

It's a mammoth task, keeping his expression under control as he meets your gaze. You're sporting that smile he loves so much— the one that steals the air from his lungs.

That's why Seokmin's tone is just a little bit breathless as he says, "Of course."

He's saying yes to the duet, sure.

But he's also saying yes to the treacherous prospect of having you and wanting you.

"Baby, It's Cold Outside is off the table."

Seokmin isn't at all surprise with your opening statement. It draws an affectionate laugh from him, even, because having known you for so long gives him some sense of what you like and what you don't.

The two of you decided to meet up outside of school hours to discuss and practice your impending performance. It was far from the first time that you were out together, though it was the first time the two of you were slotted to sing together.

"I can't believe we haven't done a duet yet," you say amusedly as you scroll through your Spotify playlist for prospects.

"It's criminal, isn't it?" Seokmin muses with a coolness that he could almost applaud himself for. He's acting like his usual self on the outside, but his mind is running a mile an hour as he imagines how to execute this.

One chance. He has one chance to get this right.

"We can be Christina Aguilera and Brian McKnight," he suggests delicately. "A little Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas moment."

You let out a thoughtful hum. "I don't think I can hit Aguilera's notes," you admit with a giggle.

Seokmin chuckles along. He's not miffed by your contradiction. This is all part of his master plan.

"Is Happy Christmas, War Is Over too serious?" you ask.

"A little too solemn for my taste."

"Fair."

The two of you exchange suggestions back and forth for the next half hour until Seokmin decides it's finally time to pull out the big guns. "How about we stick to a classic?" he prompts, his tone innocent as ever.

You roll your shoulders as you glance at him inquisitively.

Seokmin clears his throat, at least a dozen platitudes running through his mind. Now or never. You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don't take. Just do it.

"Mariah Carey," he says. "All I Want For Christmas Is You?"

There's a terribly long moment where Seokmin thinks you're going to deny him. He doesn't really have a backup for this, doesn't have a Plan B. His breath stills in his chest as he waits for your response of—

"Hey, I think we can pull that one off."

Seokmin just barely holds himself back from pumping his fist in the air.

It's a miracle that Seokmin makes it to the day of your performance. His leg is bouncing up and down. His palms are sweating like crazy. He's been through Sectionals and Regionals, but he hadn't been this nervous in any of those contests.

Does it help that the two of you decided to color coordinate clothes? Seokmin isn't sure. The pair of you look like a couple now, which only seems to do more harm than good on his poor, poor heart.

At this point, all he can do is straighten out his checkered button down and hope he doesn't keel over mid-song.

"Ready?" you ask, your voice betraying no hint of your own nerves.

Seokmin shoots you a tight-lipped smile. "As I'll ever be," he lies.

Seungkwan works on queueing up the minus one. Mingyu not-so discreetly sets up his phone to film the whole thing. And Seokmin?

He takes one look at your face and decides that he may as well go out swinging.

The uptempo beats of the festive track ring through the room. Reactions to the choice are mixed. Some groan. Some cheer. Seokmin, once again, could care less what any of them feel or think. He has a plan, and he will see it through.

Your honeyed, dulcet tone effectively shuts up anyone who might've doubted the two of you.

I don't want a lot for Christmas, you croon. There is just one thing I need.

Seokmin is surprised that he manages to not melt on the spot. His fingers tighten a bit around his Bluetooth microphone, but he holds it together enough to join you.

I don't need to hang my stocking there upon the fireplace, he sings. Santa Claus won't make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day.

As the track goes on, some of Seokmin's nerves ease. Being around you has always been easy; his little plan doesn't change that. The two of you execute the duet with effortless chemistry, trading saccharine verses and middling dance steps like the two of you have been singing together for ages.

It exhilarates Seokmin, gives him just enough courage for what he's about to do.

The song is winding to a close. You're in a club room full of some of your closest friends, all of whom are watching you two like hawks. But with the way you're looking up at Seokmin, the way you're singing with him, to him, you might as well be the only two people in the whole world.

Make my wish come true, you belt out.

Oh, baby. Seokmin's heart is in his throat. He pushes on.

All I want for Christmas is—

He stutters. You blink up at him. Confused, concerned.

He says the word instead of singing it— the single, intentional choice carrying the weight of everything he has tried and failed to tell you so far.

"You."

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Bravo Ireland

Happy holidays @bitchwitch1981! I'm your Brain Rot Secret Santa! I hope you enjoy your trip to Ireland with Dieter complete with a fire, pretty stars, and Dieter going down on you!! Thank you to @sp00kymulderr for putting all of this together! ❤️🎄

Masterlist

—-

You press your face to the tiny oval window of the airplane, eager for your first glimpse of Ireland. The checkerboard of green fields bordered by stone walls comes into view.

The wheels touch down on Irish soil, your heart quickening when you glance over at Dieter, his eyes lit with adoration as he watches you. “Merry Christmas baby,” he cheerfully says with a wink.

—-

The thatched-roof cottage Dieter rented is tiny, a far contrast from the home you share with him.

Stepping into the quaint home, you inhale the sweet scent of cinnamon and pine. Dieter sets down your bags and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“What do you think?” he asks.

You lean back against him, admiring the mismatched furniture, shelves lined with books, and bouquets of dried flowers hanging above the fireplace. In the corner sits a Christmas tree wrapped in twinkling fairy lights decorated with holly and ivy.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper, turning to kiss him softly. “I can’t believe we’re really here.”

He grins. “Believe it. A week of nothing but us, the countryside and maybe a couple pints at the pub.”

You giggle, thinking of Dieter’s broad frame hunched over a tiny bar stool surrounded by locals as you cross the threshold into the quaint kitchen.

“Hey! Hold on!” Dieter calls, striding towards you. “Look up.”

Tilting your head up, you spot a sprig of mistletoe hanging above the kitchen doorway. You turn to Dieter, a playful smile lifts the corners of his lips as he leans in close.

“You know the tradition,” he says, his voice low and husky as he pulls you against him.

His lips seal over yours in a tender kiss. It begins soft and sweet until you let out a soft moan and open your mouth, allowing his tongue to slide against yours while his hands roam your back. You tangle your fingers in the waves of his hair, pressing yourself closer to him.

Breathless, he pulls away. His eyes dark as he gazes at you.

“You want to see the bedroom?” he suggests, his deep voice rumbling through you.

You nod eagerly, as he takes your hand, leading you towards the small bedroom.

“We’ll unpack later,” he growls as you fall onto the antique iron bed together.

Dieter’s weight presses against you, pushing you farther into the soft mattress. His lips leave a trail of warmth and tingles as he trails kisses down your neck to your shoulders.

He slips his fingers beneath your sweater dress, pushing the fabric up until you help him remove it and toss it to the side.

His dark brown eyes roam your chest as you remove your bra, the cool Irish air and Dieter’s heated gaze sending a shiver through your body.

He bends over, taking one of your nipples into his mouth with a sweet stinging nip before he soothes it with his tongue.

He moves lower, placing open-mouthed kisses along your stomach until he reaches the apex of your legs, and settles between them.

You're aching and so wet for him, the closeness of having him next to you on a small plane all day has taken its toll. The smell of his cologne and stale weed smoke on his jacket. The heat of his hand on your thigh as he’d try to inch it higher before you swatted it away. The stolen kisses he’d give you when nobody was looking.  

He pulls your underwear aside, far too impatient to take them off, and holds your gaze as his tongue paints its first stroke against your aching cunt. He lazily laps at you with long, slow licks treating your body with softness and love after a long day of travel.

Two of his thick fingers slip into your dripping entrance as his lips close around your clit, gently sucking, pulling a long moan from your throat.

Your hands tangle in the chaotic waves of his hair, holding him close as he worships you with his mouth. His tongue is just as clever as him, dashing, dancing, and delving all around your slick.

The tension inside you builds with each long stroke of his fingers inside your velvet walls and each flick and suck against your sensitive bud.

The vibrations of his moans against you radiate through your body, your fingers twist around his hair harder as his free hand reaches up to palm the weight of your breast, rolling and tweaking your nipple between his fingers.

Your back arches off the mattress, your thighs trembling around his head as you feel like you’re standing on the Cliffs of Moher ready to jump.

He can feel you’re close, years of him knowing your pussy and worshipping it, makes him pump his fingers faster as his tongue swirls against your clit with more pressure.

You can feel the cool breeze and smell the sea salt in the air as your orgasm waves through you and you dive off the cliff.

Dieter groans against your cunt as you flood him, screaming his name and canting your hips against him. Your orgasm flows through your body, constricting then loosening your limbs. 

Dieter slowly withdraws his fingers from your slick heat. He places a final, gentle kiss against your thigh before he begins to trail his lips back up your trembling body. He nuzzles the bristle of his cheek against the smooth skin of your chest as you feel boneless and sated, your limbs heavy against the soft quilt beneath you.

His hands skim along the sides of your body as he settles his weight on top of you, propping himself up on his elbows looking down at you, his eyes filled with adoration. A lone lock of his dark hair falls across his forehead and you reach up to brush it back.

“Get some sleep baby, it’s a full moon tonight,” he says, before settling next to you.

—-

You wake from a nap with Dieter’s arm draped over your waist. You shiver slightly before he pulls you closer, nuzzling into your neck.

“Cold?” he asks, his warm breath ghosts against your skin.

You nod as he kisses your shoulder before sliding out of bed.

“I’ve got an idea,” he says with a devilish grin, rummaging through his suitcase. He tosses you a thick sweater and pulls on one of his own. “Come on, let’s go outside.”

“Are you serious Dee, it’s like… freezing outside.”

“Then here,” he says, tossing you his brown, fuzzy coat. “Bundle up.”

—-

The grass is damp beneath your feet as your boots clomp through the soft earth. The crisp air from the sea stings your face as you tighten your hold of the heavy coat around you.

“What are we doing, Dieter? It’s like—midnight and freezing out here.”

“It’s a full moon baby!” he shouts into the night air as he leads you to a small clearing beyond the picturesque garden.

A fire pit sits in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by a circle of large stones. You settle on the bench as Dieter picks up a few logs and arranges them in the pit before lighting it. The flames quickly catch fire and grow, you stretch out your hands to warm them as Dieter pulls you close, wrapping his arm around you.

“Look at the sky,” he whispers.

You look up and gasp. You’ve never seen so many stars in your life. The full moon hangs so low, you feel like you could reach out and grab it.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he murmurs, his eyes fixed on your face. “Nollaig Shona duit (happy Christmas to you).”

[maddiethegoodwitch]

🎄 AN ARCANE CHRISTMAS ༄

— summary : basically just what arcane characters are like at christmas

— i missed writing so bad & my caitvi headcanons got a lot of likes and i was like yay!! and since it’s the first of december.. i feel like this was needed. so happy arcane christmas ! also this is an au where vi & caitlyn are together , everybody is alive & they’re all happy and healthy in their respective cities but are all friends due to connections 😝 never done something like this before so tell me if i should do more or quit forever

— mainly includes vi, caitlyn, jinx, ekko sevika, isha, jayce, mel & viktor

— by the way i read @rhiannonsknife ‘s rhiannon christmas headcanons earlier and i thought the layout was so beautiful so that’s what the design is inspired by !! none of the hcs tho from what i remember hahah these r all original (ur writing is so good pls never die)

— tags bc yay @thankynext @tortvredpoetsblog

secret santa!

some people (jinx) complained about getting presents for everybody, so caitlyn suggested they do a secret santa! vi wrote down everybody’s names and they all got folded into a hat, and they all picked one (except isha) bla bla bla u know how it goes . on christmas afternoon, everybody goes over to the kiramman house for christmas dinner , and before the dinner they agreed to exchange gifts. something had gone wrong as sevika ended up with two gifts and jayce with none.. “vi! you put sevika in twice?” - a very angry caitlyn. she wanted this to go perfectly:( “i’m sorry! i don’t think about jayce a lot!” - a stuttering vi trying for an excuse because she feels bad. jayce sulking because he doesn’t have a present but sevika can’t give him one of hers because one of them is arm attachments from jinx and the other is cute stickers for it from mel. isha being sad that she wasn’t included but everybody got her something little and cute so she cheers up. caitlyn pulling jinx’s name and using this to try and repair their relationship, absolutely spoiling jinx with gifts. she even earns a smile :( viktor getting ekko and worrying bc they aren’t that close but jayce helps him.. they all gave jayce their sprouts as an apology and made vi do 50 sit ups (caitlyn suggested it..)

decorating the tree!

christmas for caitlyn is her roman empire. she needs everything to be perfect and she’s not a beige christmas or a green christmas. she’s a white christmas. her tree is white and the baubles are red and silver. the first two christmases after the war, she never let anybody help, but this year she felt festive and like it was an activity they could all do together. however, as soon as isha got anywhere near the tree with her hands covered in chocolate after eating out of a melted advent calendar, caitlyn was done. she gave vi the stern look and vi had to distract isha while caitlyn “fixed” the tree , and instead they all did a silly one at jinx’s place :) nobody was mad at caitlyn because they know how much she loves christmas and she surprised them all with the house being completely lit up and decorated

sevika , jinx & isha

sevika was unsure about spending christmas with everybody , as she wasn’t close with any of them except jinx and isha . jinx was invited because of vi obviously & that included isha too . vi suggested sevika come if she wanted to, and though she’d never admit it, sevika didn’t want to spend christmas alone after the crazy year, so she agreed. isha was just excited for people to be getting her presents… and stuffing her face with caitlyns cooking. caitlyn was actually left to look after isha for a little while & she loved it, isha gets excited when she sees caitlyn now. “i wanted to be the cool aunt..” - a pouting vi watching caitlyn hold isha. jinx felt awkward because she got the “family invitation”, but after a chat with vi & everyone embracing her she was fine and actually loved feeling like part of a family again. sevika was awkward when she arrived on christmas morning but after one friendly chat with vi, she figured she could talk with anybody & she did!

christmas dinner!

the people in charge of cooking christmas dinner were jayce, caitlyn and mel. caitlyn cooked for her and vi every year, and since christmas was at their house, she was in charge by default. mel walked into the kitchen to chat with caitlyn and saw she was struggling, so she called jayce in to help because the both of them attended cooking classes together and were fairly talented at it.. it came out amazing and was gone in about ten minutes. we already know that vi is a messy eater, but after filling her plate and wolfing it down, there was gravy all round her mouth 😭 caitlyn made sure to make a special plate for isha that had things she would like (isha is a picky eater to me..) because vi told her about it. jayce almost burnt the chicken trying to impress mel with drink pouring… ekko , viktor & sevika hadn’t spent a lot of time with the rest of the group so they were cautious about showing their eating habits, but viktor ended up eating copious amounts of cauliflower, ekko eating like half of the yorkshire puddings & sevika eating about 5 whole pigs with the amount of pigs in blankets she ate

caitvi

they both agreed to not get the other anything big or special, but they both did. caitlyn helped vi get back on her feet (i hc vi works at a mechanics now :3) and vi wanted to repay her, probably getting her some jewellery with a cringey engravement on it and she goes red while cait is reading it but caitlyn loves it… 🤗 & caitlyn got vi some boots that they saw in a shop window and vi said “do you think i’d look hot in those” and caitlyn thought yes.

jinx & ekko

so they aren’t dating but they’re like. lowk flirting like hiiii.. and caitlyn picks up on it and tells vi and vi’s like. “nah there’s no way…” but then she trails off as jinx actually laughs at something ekko says.. jinx doesn’t believe she has a crush on ekko but they spend basically all night talking to eachother other than the small conversations with the others .. jinx introduces ekko to isha and isha asks if that’s jinx’s boyfriend and jinx laughs then ekko feels bad ): but jinx makes it up to him by showing him that she actually got him a present!! like some cool graffiti cans or something & ekko loves them

mistletoe

caitlyn ignored vi’s protesting to have no mistletoe and put it up ALL over the house and i mean everywhere.. she was constantly saying “ooooh is that mistletoe i see!” but vi found it cute so she dragged caitlyn under it and kissed her (jinx scoffed..). jinx and ekko ended up under there and after cait pointed it out, jinx snagged it off the roof, threw it on the floor and stepped on it. “what? i don’t want our first kiss to be infront of my sister and her stupid girlfriend.” “stupid girlfriend?” “first kiss? so there’ll be more?” “shut up.” jayce kept trying to get mel under there but she was dodging it , & jayce got frustrated .. “y’dont wanna kiss me or something?” “well..”

mall santa

jinx took isha into the christmas markets like a week before christmas and did not expect to see sevika dressed as santa. isha literally noticed it before jinx. she tugged on jinx’s arm and pointed at sevika until jinx realised and she was like holy shit.. isha still happily sat on santa’s knee, got a picture and a big hug too while jinx was stood there teasing her. “i think isha wants like.. a hextech hoverboard for christmas.. can ya do that, santa?” but after it sevika payed her a visit and threatened jinx if she told anybody.. she still ended up telling people after they ate dinner on christmas LMAO

BONUS

jinx to vi : “ so you like .. live here now? ya fuckin’ priss..”

viktor almost cried because jayce got him like a cover for his cane because viktor mentioned that it had been really hurting his hands recently but he couldn’t get a new one

whenever vi and caitlyn did anything slightly intimate jinx would say “there we go! kiss an enforcer, ruin christmas..”

for some reason vi treated christmas crackers like an olympics game and would use all her strength to pull it so she got the bigger half.. but she just wanted to tell the corny jokes

jayce was super awkward the whole night & started talking to sevika thinking she was scary but they actually had a nice conversation

mel and caitlyn christmas gossiping over champagne and then watching the christmas special of gavin and stacey because i SAID SO and they’re british

vi drinking straight vodka until caitlyn stopped her because isha made grabby hands at it thinking it was water

caitlyn and vi cringe matching pyjamas that say mrs claus and mrs claus.

[benkeibear]

『 You're a mean one Mr. Grinch 』

🎄synopsis: If you could use only two words to describe Sanemi during the holiday season it would be "the grinch". But just like his hairy, green friend, Sanemi does have a heart deep down - and it belongs entirely to you.

🎄character: Sanemi Shinazugawa

🎄reader: female

🎄cw: slightly suggestive for 2 sentences (It's Tengen, I can't help it), otherwise pure fluff

🎄notes: Merry Christmas @awkwardchick87 I am Tinsel the liddol elf for the @pixelcafe-network secret Santa! 🥹🫶 I hope you have a holly jolly season and that Mr. Grinch here shows up under your tree for real hehe. Also a big thank you to @hayatoseyepatch who helped me to make sure that Sanemi was in character!

Snow is falling all around us I fucking hate it, everything is slippery and shoveling snow sucks.

Children playing, having fun I hope they fall and bruise their tailbones.

It's the season, love and understanding you mean materialism and fake love…

The Christmas music was blasting from the kitchen and Sanemi couldn't help but scoff at the pretentious lyrics, adding his thoughts to each and every line.

If you only had two words to describe your husband during Christmas time, you wouldn't even need to ponder for a single second, the two words would come to your mind immediately - The Grinch.

“Nemi?” Your voice called from the kitchen as the songs switched, giving him exactly three seconds before the next one started playing, a moment of peace for his poor ears, he thought, as he slowly made his way to you.

“Can I turn the music down a little?” He asked as he rubbed his temples a little too dramatically, but your face said it all - he can turn the volume down but not entirely off.

Now that the music wasn't blasting through the entire house, the tense feeling seemed to disappear from his shoulders and he looked at you from across the kitchen island, cookie batter stuck on your cheek and flour coating your hair white and he couldn't stifle the smallest chuckle.

“Did you need my help, Mrs. Santa?” He asked teasingly, the flour in your hair aging you rapidly and you threw a freshly cut cookie at his face, the little star sticking perfectly to his forehead.

“You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you quipped back and laughed at the way he ripped that star shaped cookie off his skin.

“What was that for?!” Sanemi sounded quite angry. “I mean… why did you do that?” He repeated his question much calmer, still working on his little outbursts that have become a lot less frequent.

“You called me Mrs. Santa! Do I look that old to you?” You asked amused and threatened to throw another cookie, this time it was shaped like a bell.

Sanemi walked around the counter and took a closer look at you with squinted eyes, studying you as if he really had to think about an answer, which made you puff your cheeks in feigned offense.

“Well… the flour does make you look like Mrs. Santa… But perhaps I just need to grow a beard to be your Santa then?” He asked and gently ruffled your hair in an effort to remove the flour, only making it worse, which did bring a smile to his face.

*plap* The bell shaped cookie got slapped against his cheek with a playful slap of your hand, making you laugh out loudly before running off, knowing he'd chase you to get back at you somehow - and you were right.

Sanemi chased you through the apartment, trying to throw the batter at your face but firing it against the wall and two windows instead before giving up and chasing after you without a makeshift cookie weapon. Neither of you knew how long you'd been at it, but when the smoke detector went off, you ran to the kitchen in an instant, the first batch of Christmas cookies looked more like the coal pieces that Santa leaves for the naughty children.

The next time Sanemi was painfully reminded that this is indeed Christmas season was when he walked into your living room and saw that tree standing there. What an ugly thing he thought to himself as he eyed it up and down - at least the shape was decent and better than the one from last year. With a sigh he went to the storage to get the ornaments ready for you, knowing that you'll want to put them on there sooner than later and he didn't want you to carry all these boxes… Just why did you have so much stuff for a tree??

The first note of the song came on as you decorated the tree and a shiver ran down his spine. He hated Christmas music, but this song was on top of the list of most hated songs - it just sounded so awfully nonconsensual.

Gripping the star that goes on top of the Christmas tree like a microphone, you dramatically got into stance to sing this duet he was sure you made him sing with you. You're so lucky that he loves you…

“I really can't stay,” you started to sing, but he refused to sound like some asshole, so he improvised his own lines.

“No problem, there's the door,” he grumbled and pointed at the door. Sanemi didn't even try to sing this, but he also didn't want to disappoint you - seeing you smile was what made him happy after all and if he had to embarrass himself like this, he would do so. Your smile was brighter than any Christmas star to him and singing a silly duet wasn't too bad after all.

“I've got to go away,” you continued and gave him the puppy eyes to act your part.

“I hear ya, say no more,” he mumbled and twirled you around once.

“This evening has been-” before you were able to finish it, he interrupted you.

“Totally consensual!” He butted in, which made you laugh at how he made his own version of this Christmas classic.

“My mother will start to worry,” you sang through your little giggle fit, already having missed a line, but Sanemi took a step back.

“Here's my phone, give her a call,” he chuckled, making the whole song sound a lot less creepy than it actually is. Both of you ended up laughing by the time the song was over, the Christmas tree only having one ornament hanging on its branches. Gently, Sanemi lifted you up to place the Christmas star on top before handing you various ornaments to decorate the tree, leaving this task entirely in your hands after you complained that he would clutter the tree. Granted, your first Christmas you almost shoved the ornament down his throat after he hung two red ones next to each other, but that is a story of the past…

The last time Sanemi was painfully reminded that it was Christmas Eve was when he sat under the tree like a pouting little child. His arms remained crossed as he waited for you to find him there - a red bow tied to a strand of his hair and if you looked closely, his cheeks were almost the same color from how embarrassed he felt to sit there. Both of you agreed to exchange your gifts on Christmas Eve already and while you got yours to put it under the tree for him, he went to get into position. Oh, how utterly stupid he felt and every second that passed only made him doubt his decisions more.

Sanemi never really celebrated Christmas before he got to know you. Holiday of love and giving… to love who? He had no family and it's not like he could do things like this with Genya. Giving gifts? He thought that was stupid, too materialistic. The white haired man was a firm believer that you should show your love to the right people every day of the year and not only on made-up holidays like Christmas or even Valentine's Day - but this changed once he found out that you're quite sentimental about those little things and that you don't expect anything expensive or lots of presents, just one small thing coming from his heart. So the first Christmas you two spent together, he gifted you his Haori - something too simple in his eyes, but you were so happy because you knew that this was his favorite. Unless it's in the laundry, you still wear it daily until this very day, well past your marriage vows, and you never fail to make his heart skip a beat whenever he sees you wearing it. But this time he had to outdo himself at least a little bit, so he went to none other than Tengen Uzui to ask for guidance. Did he hate every second of this? Very much so. It was almost humiliating to ask for help, yet he reminded himself of the purpose - you.

“That's just ridiculous!” Sanemi stood up, his head bright red at Tengen’s advice, who only shrugged with a smirk on his lips. A smirk that Sanemi wished to punch off his stupidly handsome face in that moment, but something started putting pieces together in his brain. If Tengen had three wives that adored him so much, his idea wouldn't be too bad, given he does it himself. Grumbling, Sanemi sat back down onto the tatami mats and Tengen's smirk grew into an excited one.

“I'm not going to wrap my dick with ribbon or stuff it into a box,” he exclaimed, knowing his friend's mind was running wild after he was the one suggesting these very things.

“Well, my wives do like to have a taste of my… candy cane… when I put a pretty bow on it,” he mused and Sanemi stood up once again, leaving this time. Too much information.

“Yeah, yeah, have fun, you pervert,” he mumbled and left the Uzui estate with a bright red head. Surely his best friend would have a better idea now that he and Mitsuri are together…

“I write poetry for her,” Obanai mumbled, his voice muffled and although he couldn't see him smile, his eyes were shining whenever he was talking of her.

“I can't… I'm not good with words or emotions and that shit,” Sanemi answered, deeply in thought. He could ask Obanai to write one for you, but it wouldn't be from heart. It would be the words of another man and just thinking about another man telling you how much he loves you made his blood boil - even if it's in his name.

“Just try it,” the short man encouraged him and swiftly moved to bring him paper and a pen to write before leaving him alone with his thoughts and a tea, surely he will think of something.

It's been two hours since Obanai checked in on his friend, so when he went to his living room to see how the poet is faring, Sanemi was long gone. The stack of papers was empty, crumpled up pages littered the room, which frustrated the Hashira. Next time they meet, he will have to face the consequences of trashing his estate - although reading these poems out loud to you should serve as enough punishment with how bad they were.

Just as he was about to stop reading them, as they made his skin crawl with how truly bad Sanemi was to express his words, one caught his attention. It surely wasn't a masterpiece, but for what it was, it was sweet and heartfelt. Obanai smiled to himself as he straightened the paper out, intending to send it to you in a secret letter.

“Roses are red, Violets are blue, With every wild wind, I'm thinking of you.

Your laughter's like thunder, In the quiet of night, A spark in my heart, You're my guiding light.

I'm rough around the edges, and my hair's a mess. You see through the storms and love me nonetheless.

So here's to our chaos, and the battles we face, In a world full of danger, you're my favorite place.”

Now Sanemi was sitting under the tree, a bow in his hair and a small box hiding in his pocket. While he went home, frustrated with the poetry session, his engagement ring caught his attention - it shimmered beautifully in the sun, just like your eyes. He made sure to choose a gem that came closest to his favorite color, and you wore an amethyst on yours to represent his eyes.

“The eyes are a window to the soul after all,” Sanemi whispered the words you told him on your first date when he looked everywhere but at you since you made him uncharacteristically nervous.

Although you've been together for all this time, the nerves crept up as he waited for you to return to the living room, hoping you'd like the necklace hiding in the small box, an amethyst placed neatly in the middle of a decorative piece that looked like a whirlwind. And perhaps you'll like the big present even more, as it sat there, waiting and pouting for your return…

Network: @pixelcafe-network

[julia-lestrade]

Christmas on base

König x reader

Christmas Eve on base wasn’t meant to be anything special, but you and König had decided otherwise. The common room had been transformed—if you could call it that—with strings of mismatched lights, a crooked tree someone (König) had “borrowed” from storage, and the smell of cookies wafting through the air. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something, and for this team of misfits, it was enough.

König stood by the counter, awkwardly maneuvering a tray of cookies fresh from the oven. His apron—stamped with Kiss the Cook—was a size too small, barely covering his broad chest, which only made the whole scene more ridiculous. Across the room, you were standing with Gaz, trying to guide him as he attempted to fix the leaning star on top of the tree.

“Don’t force it,” you called, crossing your arms. “You’ll break it.”

“I’m not forcing it!” Gaz grunted, wobbling slightly on the chair he was standing on. “Why’s this thing so bloody flimsy?”

“Because someone didn’t get a proper tree stand,” you replied, casting a pointed look at König.

König shrugged without turning around. “The quartermaster would have said no,” he said, his voice low but unapologetic.

“That’s because you stole it,” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

Before König could grumble a response, Price walked in, pausing to take in the scene. His eyebrows rose slightly as he noticed the two of you—him carefully arranging cookies on a plate, you directing Gaz like a drill sergeant. “Didn’t know bickering was part of Christmas tradition,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

“This isn’t bickering,” König said, setting the cookies down with surprising delicacy for a man his size. “This is…coordination.”

“Right,” Price drawled.

Soap and Ghost arrived next, Soap immediately zeroing in on the cookies. You intercepted him halfway. “Hands off,” you said, pointing a finger at his chest. “You’re not eating until everyone’s here.”

“You’re worse than my mum,” Soap complained, stepping back.

“Maybe you should listen to her, then,” Ghost muttered, his tone dry as dust.

By the time everyone was seated, the room was filled with warmth and a kind of chaotic energy only Task Force 141 could bring. König carved the ham with precision, his massive hands making the knife look like a toy, while you flitted around the table, making sure everyone had enough food.

“Do they always act like this?” Gaz whispered to Ghost, nodding toward you and König as you debated the proper time to serve the mulled wine.

“Like an old married couple,” Ghost replied, his eyes crinkling with quiet amusement.

Eventually, the plates were cleared, Soap’s terrible Secret Santa gifts were unwrapped (earning groans all around), and the mulled wine was finally poured. You found yourself standing by König as the team settled into laughter and easy conversation, the two of you surveying your handiwork.

“Not bad,” you said, nudging his arm lightly.

“Not bad at all,” König agreed, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

The crooked tree leaned a little farther, and the lights flickered ominously, but none of it mattered. For one night, amidst the chaos of their lives, you and König had managed to bring everyone together—and for that, it was a Christmas worth remembering.

Hope y’all enjoyed it! 😙 🎄 ho ho ho merry early Christmas!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[misshoneyimhome]

What’s up, buttercups!

It’s time to unwrap another steamy chapter of Sexy Christmas ☃︎! For this round, we’re cranking up the holiday heat with none other than Seth Jarvis—our favourite cheeky Hurricane 🌀🔥

This one’s for all the Seth girls out there (you know who you are 😉). Get ready for a mix of playful banter, smouldering tension, and enough holiday magic to melt the ice. Think soft Christmas lights, whispered names, and a hallway encounter that might just be the best present of the season.

Let me know what you think, and as always, happy reading, and let’s sleigh this holiday season together! 🎄✨

➼｡ﾟ

Office Holiday Party Hookup - Seth Jarvis

OC and her favourite player sneak away during the office Christmas party, finding a quiet corner to exchange more than just gifts under the twinkling holiday lights.

Tropes & warnings: 18+ smut, Seth Jarvis x reader, public, mutual masturbation, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside

Word count: 2.6K

The Carolina Hurricanes’ Christmas party was in full swing, the hum of conversation mingling with holiday music and the clinking of glasses. Strings of twinkling lights adorned every corner of the venue, casting a warm glow that softened even the most corporate edges of the evening. You stood near the refreshment table, an empty glass in hand as you scanned the room for familiar faces—or more specifically, one in particular.

Seth Jarvis.

The young star of the team, with a grin that could disarm even the most stoic, had a knack for stealing the spotlight—and your attention. His charm, quick wit, and effortless humour had made him the centre of your thoughts more than once, and tonight, it felt like the tension between you two was crackling just a little louder than usual.

“Looking for someone, or just enjoying the view?”

His familiar voice sent a thrill through you as you turned to see him approaching, two drinks in hand. He looked maddeningly good, his tailored suit hugging his athletic frame, and his trademark boyish smirk was firmly in place.

“Depends,” you replied, arching a brow. “What are my options?”

He handed you one of the glasses, his eyes sparkling with mischief as you sat the empty one aside. “Option one: me. Option two: still me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, taking a sip of the drink he offered. “Big talk for someone who can’t even handle his own secret Santa shopping.”

“I handled it just fine, thank you very much,” he shot back, leaning in just enough to lower his voice. “But I’ve got something better in mind for you this Christmas.”

The way he said it, low and deliberate, sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t let it show. “Is that so?”

“Dance with me,” he said suddenly, setting his glass on the nearby table and extending a hand.

You hesitated, glancing at the small dance floor where a few players and their wives swayed awkwardly to a holiday classic. “Not really my scene,” you murmured, though your heart was pounding at the invitation.

“Then let’s make our own,” he said, his grin widening as he took your hand without waiting for a reply.

Taking your glass and setting it next to his own, Seth then led you toward a quieter corner of the venue, the crowd thinning till completely out of sight as you neared the towering Christmas tree. The lights cast a golden glow over both of you, the ornaments shimmering like they were part of his plan. Seth stopped, turning to face you, his expression softening as he held onto your hand.

“See? Much better,” he said, his tone lower now, more intimate.

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, though you didn’t pull away as his hands found your waist, drawing you closer.

“And yet, here you are,” he murmured, his lips curving into a smile that was equal parts playful and sincere.

The scent of his cologne, warm and inviting, mixed with the faint aroma of pine from the nearby tree. You felt your resolve weakening as his hands settled more firmly on your waist, his touch steady but teasing.

“I should get back,” you said half-heartedly, your hands coming to rest on his chest.

“But you won’t,” he countered, his voice soft and knowing as he leaned in. His eyes flicked to your lips, the air between you thickening with unspoken intent. “Will you?”

Before you could reply, his lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, as though testing the waters. The kiss sent a jolt through you, igniting something that had been building for months. Seth’s hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, and your fingers curled into the fabric of his suit jacket as you kissed him back.

“You’re going to get us caught,” you whispered against his lips, though you made no effort to pull away.

“Let them watch,” he murmured, his tone full of humour but thick with desire as he captured your lips again, this time with more urgency.

Seth’s hands slid up your back, one tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. The warmth of his mouth and the way he moved against you made your head spin. When his lips left yours to trail along your jawline and down to the curve of your neck, your breath hitched, your body arching into him instinctively.

“You’ve been driving me wild all night,” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear as his hands wandered lower, his touch both firm and deliberate.

“Then maybe you should do something about it,” you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He groaned softly at your words, his grip on your hips tightening as he pressed you against the wall. His kisses grew hungrier, each one a deliberate act of devotion as he explored every inch of your skin he could reach. 

“Jarvy…” you whispered.

“Mmm, yes, say my name,” he murmured against your throat, his voice a low rasp that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Jarv,” you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair as he continued his slow, deliberate assault on your senses.

His lips curved into a smile against your neck. “Again.”

“Jarvy,” you repeated, this time with more urgency, your hands sliding down to the hem of his jacket as you tugged him closer.

The intensity between you both was electric, the rest of the world fading as Seth pressed closer, his body a solid, unyielding presence against yours. His hands found the hem of your dress, his fingers grazing your thighs as he edged the fabric higher. The cool air against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat radiating from him, and you gasped softly, your body instinctively leaning into his touch.

“Do you have any idea what kind of effect you have on me?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“Why don’t you show me?” you challenged, your voice barely above a whisper, but full of intent.

Seth’s lips claimed yours again, his kiss deepening as the tension between you reached a fevered pitch. His hands roamed over your waist, firm and deliberate, as though memorising every curve. The faint hum of holiday music and the soft glow of the Christmas lights seemed to fade, leaving only the heated connection between the two of you in this quiet corner.

Each touch sent shivers coursing through your body, and when his hand finally slid beneath the dress again, his palm resting firmly on your thigh, you gasped softly against his lips.

“You’ve been fucking killing me,” Seth murmured, his voice rough with restraint as his forehead pressed briefly against yours. His other hand moved to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his dark eyes met yours. “Tell me to stop if this is too much.”

But your hands just slid down to the hem of his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders in one fluid motion. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

The confirmation seemed to ignite something in him. Swiftly discarding the jacket, his hand returned on your thigh edged higher, his touch teasing as he explored the soft skin just beneath the edge of your underwear. Your breath hitched when his fingers brushed over the thin fabric, the light pressure sending a wave of pleasure through you. His lips found yours again, capturing them in a kiss that was both hungry and reverent.

“I fucking want you,” he murmured against your lips, his fingers tracing over the heat between your thighs with deliberate care. The sensation was almost overwhelming, your body responding to his touch with a desperation you couldn’t hide. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched into him, your soft moans spurring him on.

When his fingers slid beneath the fabric, finding your sensitive core with unerring precision, your knees threatened to give out entirely. Seth caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he held you steady against the wall. His lips moved to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers continued their slow, torturous rhythm against your clit.

“Seth,” you gasped, your voice breaking on his name as your hips rocked instinctively against his hand.

He groaned at the sound, his lips curving into a satisfied smile against your neck. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with need. “Let me hear you.”

With a little too much ease, he then slipped a finger inside you, and the pressure of his hand increased, each movement calculated to bring you closer to the edge. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gripping them tightly as your breath came in short, uneven gasps, clinging to him. His name spilled from your lips again, and the raw desire in your voice made him press harder against you, his own breathing rough and unsteady.

And when his hardness pressed insistently against your hip, the evidence of his need sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. You reached down, your fingers fumbling with the belt and his trousers, and he froze for a moment, his dark eyes locking onto yours.

“I just want to touch you,” he hummed, his voice low but filled with concern.

You seductively licked your lips, looking up at him, your fingers tugging at the fabric with a quiet urgency. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

Seth groaned softly as he with one hand helped you free him from the confines of his trousers. You pushed them down just far enough to discover he was naked underneath. But it only made you smile as it made the situation easier for you. 

Seth’s sharp intake of breath as your hand wrapped around him sent a thrilling jolt through your body. The heat and weight of him in your palm made your pulse quicken, and the low groan that escaped his lips only spurred you on. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, his breath coming in uneven bursts against your skin as he adjusted to your touch.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice a low rasp, his finger still pumping inside you. “You feel so good.”

You smiled at his reaction, your hand moving with slow, deliberate strokes that had his hips jerking slightly against your touch. His head tilted back slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours, heavy-lidded with desire. There was something deeply intoxicating about the way he looked at you, as if you were the only thing grounding him in the moment.

Seth’s head fell back a bit further, his lips parting as a sharp exhale escaped him. The combination of your deliberate strokes and the rhythm of his fingers inside you created a charged connection that neither of you could resist. His hand on your waist gripped tightly, his body trembling slightly under your touch.

“You’re… so good at this,” he breathed, his voice hoarse and strained as his hips bucked slightly into your hand, seeking more. His forehead came to rest against yours again, his dark eyes fluttering closed briefly before meeting yours once more, heavy with raw need. “Mmm… I’m getting closer.”

“Good,” you whispered, your voice soft but full of intent, your grip on him tightening as your strokes became firmer, matching the intensity of his movements.

Seth groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest as his fingers inside you curled slightly, finding the spot that made your knees buckle. The gasp that escaped your lips spurred him on, his movements growing bolder as he drove you closer to the edge. His thumb circled your clit with expert precision, each stroke timed perfectly to leave you trembling in his arms.

Your breaths came in shallow gasps, your body pressing instinctively closer to his as the tension between you built to a fever pitch. The way his lips brushed against your neck, murmuring soft curses and encouragement, only heightened the electric pull between you.

“Seth,” you moaned, his name breaking on your lips as your hips moved against his hand, chasing the pleasure that was rapidly consuming you.

His free hand slid up your back, steadying you as your movements grew more desperate. His dark eyes locked onto yours, his expression a mix of awe and unrestrained desire. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough. “Come for me.”

The raw intimacy of his words pushed you over the edge, your body tensing as a wave of ecstasy washed over you, leaving you trembling in his arms. Seth’s fingers slowed, drawing out every last aftershock until you sagged against him, your forehead resting on his shoulder as you caught your breath.

But Seth wasn’t done. His hand stilled, slipping away as he adjusted your position slightly, making you release his hardness. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and unrelenting, as his hands slid down to grip your thighs. With a soft grunt, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you fully against the wall once more. 

Your hands moved to his hair, tugging lightly as you kissed him back with equal fervor, your body still humming from the release he’d just given you. His need was palpable, the way his body pressed against yours leaving no doubt about how much he wanted you.

Without much effort, Seth found your entrance with his cock. Your hands remained tangled in his hair as you gasped against his lips, feeling the stretch and warmth of him as Seth pushed into you with deliberate care. A soft moan escaped you, his name spilling from your lips as your body adjusted to the intensity of the moment. His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot and uneven, his dark eyes searching yours for reassurance.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmured, his voice strained with barely contained desire as he began to move. Each slow thrust was precise, deliberate, designed to leave you trembling in his arms. The rhythm he set was measured at first, his hands steadying you against the wall as he buried himself deeper with each movement.

The sound of your moans and his ragged breaths filled the quiet space, the holiday music from the party down the hall fading into the background. Seth’s grip on your thighs tightened as his pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours with growing urgency. The friction, the heat, the sheer connection between you sent shivers coursing through your body, each movement igniting a fire that burned hotter with every passing second.

Your name tumbled from his lips like a prayer, his voice rough and filled with need. The way he moved inside you—strong, purposeful, and utterly focused—left you breathless, your hands clinging to his shoulders as he drove you closer to the edge once more.

“Fuck, I can’t—” he gasped, his movements growing erratic as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body taut with tension. “I’m—”

“Let go,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear, your voice trembling but full of encouragement. “Come with me, Jarv.”

Seth groaned deeply, his head falling to your shoulder as he thrust into you one last time, his body shuddering with the force of his release. The warmth of him spilling inside you sent a wave of pleasure through you, your own body tightening in response as you held him close, your breaths mingling in the heated aftermath.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the two of you clinging to each other in the soft glow of the Christmas lights. Seth’s hands moved to cradle your face, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was tender, almost reverent.

“You’re… amazing,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as he pressed his forehead to yours, his dark eyes filled with a mix of affection and awe.

You smiled, your fingers trailing softly along the back of his neck as you murmured, “Merry Christmas, Seth.”

“Merry Christmas.” 

[milla-frenchy]

2k3 | Javi Peña x fem reader Summary/prompt: brat!tamer Javi puts reader in place after she’s been teasing him at the office all day. Warnings: 18+ mdni. secret relationship, semi public sex (office sex), oral (f/m), dirty talk, biting, unprotected piv, creampie. No age specified a/n: secret Santa with mutuals 🎄❤️ @multiversed-daydreamer I hope you'll enjoy these 2 brats 😊 Thank you for this prompt 👌🤌 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog Thank you for beta-ing 💕🫶

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Masterlist | ao3

“Can you show me where the La Quica files are in the archives room, Steve?”

Javi rolled his eyes when he heard you. Since this morning, you’ve been trying to make him jealous any way possible.

You showed your painted nails to Steve (it’d been Javi who had chosen the nail polish - his favorite color - for you), you swayed your hips way too much, walking before Stechner in the hallway (while you were wearing Javi's favorite skirt, which he had bought for you, expressly asking you not to wear it at work), you brushed against Crosby's arm before pressing the elevator button to leave the office that afternoon (while Javi was a foot away from him, and right in front of you).

Several times, Javi gave you a look that seemed like a warning, but you offered him your best smile and redoubled your efforts to tease him even more.

You two had started a relationship a few weeks ago, and no one knew about it at the DEA’s office. Javi wanted to keep it that way.

You were supposed to see each other at the weekend but he canceled at the last minute, and today, on Monday, you wanted to make him a little jealous.

You were hoping that he would join you in your apartment tonight, to punish you (a little), and to make amends (a lot).

As Steve took you to the archives room to give you the La Quica file, Javi lit a cigarette before throwing his lighter on his desk. You couldn't help but smile, preceding Steve into the hallway, hoping that Javi was craning his neck to watch his coworker follow you. You knew Murphy didn't care about you, in love as he was with Connie, but he was still a great target to make Javi jealous.

The afternoon passed, and by the early evening the offices were practically empty. You cleaned up your desk and took La Quica's file to put it in the archives.

Just as you were putting it in the box, you heard the door open.

“Who’s there?”, you asked without getting an answer.

“Javi?”

You put the box back in its place and headed towards the door, when Javi appeared from behind a shelf. He smiled, the way a cat might smile before playing with a mouse.

“Have you enjoyed teasing me all day, Hermosa? I told you I didn’t want people to suspect anything about us.”

He turned towards the door and locked it, then moved closer to you, one slow step after another, his eyes fixed on yours. When he got close, you stepped back as he continued to advance towards you, until your back hit the wall. His piercing gaze made you lose your composure in a matter of moments, and yours was now moving from his eyes to his lips. His smirk made you melt, but you couldn't believe that he took the risk of locking himself in this room with you, even if there were only a few people left in the offices.

“What are we doing here, Javi?”

He leaned over you, pressing his cock against your pussy, his nose brushing against yours. He was so hard that you felt your pussy get wet instantly.

“I think you need a good lesson, Hermosa. Need me to put you in your place.”

“Oh really? Put me in my place, then, Javi. Make me shut up”, you dared him.

“I will. But you might moan a little.”

His face was so unimpressed, in complete control, that you stopped talking.

He released you and took a few steps back, slowly again.

“You wanna act like a brat? I'm gonna treat you like a brat. Get on your knees."

He undid his belt and unzipped his jeans. You moved closer to him and got on your knees immediately.

“You want it that bad? Suck it.”

You wanted to take his cock in your hand and jerk him off, but he pushed your hand away.

“I said, suck it.”

He grabbed his cock and then your neck and said “spit on it. And suck it.”

You let your saliva run down his cock, and he pressed your neck harder. You took the tip in your mouth, your lips rounding around his cock. You ran your tongue along the slit, and licked up the precum that was leaking out.

You heard him moan, and his hand tightened on your neck. Still holding his cock in his hand, he leaned his pelvis forward, forcing you to take him deeper in your mouth. He set his pace, thrusting in and then retreating slowly.

“This is what you needed, mmm? Me taking care of your attitude?”

He clenched your hair in his fist, keeping his other hand on your neck.

“Well Hermosa, you don’t seem to act like a smartass anymore, with that big cock stuffing your mouth?”

He released you and you caught your breath.

“You’ve been a very bad girl today, Hermosa. Wanted to make me jealous?”

“A little, yeah…”

“I am Chilean, bebé. I don't know what "a little jealous" is. You need to make it up now. Use your hands and suck it.”

You grabbed his cock and slid your tongue from your hand to his crown, slowly, looking up at him. You took the tip in your mouth, and started sucking on it, still jerking him gently.

“Come on Hermosa, take it deep in your mouth. You’re not gonna act shy because we’re at the office, are you? You weren’t shy when you were all over those men...”

Your groaned, and your tongue played with his tip one last time, still leaking with precum, and your mouth moved further down his shaft.

“That’s it, take it all now, like a good obedient girl.”

You grabbed his thighs with your hands, and you moved further down his shaft, slowly, so that your mouth and then your throat got used to his girth. Your nose in his pubic hair, you kept it at the back of your throat for a few seconds, your tongue pressed against his shaft.

“Fuck… yeah, that’s good. Your mouth feels so much nicer taking my cock, instead of flirting like a little slut all damn day.”

You moaned hearing him, and pulled back slowly, all the way to his tip, swirling your tongue over it, before pushing his cock fully into your mouth again. You felt his fingers tighten in your hair and he groaned.

You were sucking on his cock, your head bobbing up and down, giving him your all. You loved feeling him in your mouth, feeling that vein against which your tongue was sliding.

“You are so much more docile now, Hermosa.” He caressed your cheek, and added “Get up now, I’m not done with you.”

He grabbed your elbow to help you up, then he knelt down as well, facing your crotch. He lifted your skirt, revealing your panties. You heard him moan, then sigh heavily when he saw your swollen folds. The fabric was wet, and he couldn't help but sigh deeply one more time.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby. This pussy is so desperate to get fucked. But she’s gonna have to cry a little bit more before taking it.”

He came closer, his eyes fixed on your panties, and he licked the fabric with a long stroke. Then he grabbed one of your thighs, and hoisted it over his shoulder, pushing the fabric of your panties to the side. He tilted his head, and the tip of his tongue licked your pussy, slowly, up to your clit. He did it again, and you let your head fall back against the wall. This time, he let the tip of his tongue play with your clit, and your hands came to lose themselves in his dark curls. His mustache rubbed gently against your folds, and you moaned. He pulled back and looked up at you, smiling when he saw your face.

“I really shut you up this time Hermosa, and I didn’t even start really eating you out.” He dove in your pussy without giving you a chance to respond, spreading your folds with his thumbs and pushing his tongue into your soaked hole. This time you couldn't help but moan too loudly, and he pulled away saying “shhhh. Don’t make me stop. There are still people in the office.”

You looked down at him and nodded, and he slipped his middle finger into your pussy, still looking at you. He fingered you, and placed his lips against your clit, sucking it gently. He added a second finger in your pussy, and the tip of his tongue swirled against your clit.

Javi knew damn well how to make you cum. In a few weeks, he had become an expert. Whether by taking his time, to the point where you ended up begging him to make you cum, or in two minutes. You knew he wanted to make you unravel quickly, this time.

He turned his fingers upward, rubbing them against that squishy spot, and his tongue swirling faster against your clit, making you moan again. Your nails were lightly grazing his head. You whispered, “Javi…I’m gonna cum.”

He grunted, his lips still placed around your clit, and his tongue quickly playing with it. You came, the back of your hand pressed against your mouth to muffle a possible cry, your pussy contracting on his fingers. He placed his tongue against your clit, waiting for the jerks to stop. Always, he was waiting like this, his tongue poised, as if he was amused by the jolts of your little set of nerves.

He placed your leg back on the ground and stood up, catching you in the process as you reeled from your orgasm. He smiled and said, “I’m not done with you, Hermosa. I don't want you to play your little game again in a few days, and for that, you need a full lesson, don't you?”

He spread your feet with his, gripped your hair in his hand, pinning your head against the wall. Holding his cock, he rubbed it against your folds, under your skirt, before pushing inside, bottoming out in a single thrust. He buried his nose in your neck, growling against your skin as he felt your pussy spread for his cock.

“You’re so tight… you’re squeezing my cock so hard.”

“Fuck me Javi, please. Fuck me hard.”

“Damn, three days without taking this cock and you’re begging for it that much”, he said, grabbing your thighs in his hands, and lifting you so that you wrapped your legs around his waist. The position allowed him to thrust deeper into you, and each stroke hit your G spot. Your back against the wall, each thrust of his hips made you slam against it, as you were holding onto him, your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“Still wanna tease all those men, baby? Just to get fucked in here, like a good little whore?”

Before you could try to respond, you heard someone walking down the hall, and Javi put his hand over your mouth, continuing to fuck you just as hard, as your eyes were fixed on each other. You licked the palm of his hand, and he shook his head still looking at you, frowning. The footsteps moved away, and he removed his hand, grabbed your throat and pressed your head against the wall, his gaze moving from your eyes to your lips.  You grabbed his wrist back, and squeezed it with your fingers, to make him squeeze your throat tighter.

He released your thighs and just as your feet hit the ground, he pulled out of you and grabbed your hips, spinning you around, to make you face the wall. 

You just had time to put your hands against it, when he was already lifting your skirt, and pressing his cock against your entrance, sinking in in one go.

“I’m gonna give it to you just like you wanted. Hard,”  he said, thrusting deeply in your core.

“Oh! F… fuck!”

The thrusts of his hips sped up, pinning you against the wall each time he thrust into you. 

He bit your shoulder lightly, and his grunts turned you on more and more. His hands gripped your hips tightly, helping him thrust deeper. Wanting to feel him even more, you tilted your ass back, so that the angle would allow him to hit your g-spot with each stroke.

“What are you doing, little brat? Wanna come on this cock?”

“Yes Javi, please, I’m so close...”

He squeezed your hair in his fist, and said “you think you deserve this?” still thrusting deep into you with every stoke.

“Yes!! Please, Javi”

“No more brat attitude at work?”

“No… I promise.”

He bit your shoulder again, and repeatedly hit the spot you needed, saying “I want you to come on it baby, give me another one. I want another one.” You came a second time, hearing him.

“Fuck… Hermosa. You pussy is squeezing me so hard… Keep coming on my cock, fuck…”

Your voice trembling, you said “come in my pussy, Javi. Fill me up. Wanna feel you shoot your cum in me, please…”

He grunted again, before you felt the pulsing of his cock as he expelled his cum inside you.

He released his fingers' grip on your hips, stroking them where they had been pressed seconds before, and kissed where he had bitten you, still buried in your cunt. Both of you regained your senses for a few minutes, your breathing gradually returning to normal.

He pulled out and got dressed, while you put your panties and skirt back in place. He looked at you while fastening his belt, then said “don’t forget your promise, Hermosa.”

You looked at him, gave him your best smile, and said “and not getting fucked like that in this room again? Come on Javi…"

You went to open the door, a smile on your face, feeling his cum making your already soaked panties even wetter, and heard his long sigh when you brushed against him.

**********************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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Merry Christmas Darthfuzz 🎄

I love these tlou videos that we share regularly 😍

[starry-nights-17]

Had an idea for a short story (prison Gallavich at Christmas) but figured it (mostly) fit in with this weeks prompt. So, decided to condense it down into drabble no.3 for "secret santa" @galladrabbles @look-i-love-u

❤🎄

----

"This turkey tastes like shit".

Ian couldn't disagree but the supposed Christmas Dinner was still better than the usual prison slop.

"Happy Christmas Mick".

Back in their cell, Ian handed Mickey his "gift", a full size snickers and a bottle of real lube.

"Sneaky bastard".

A beat. A grin.

"Got you something too".

Mickey whispered to the guard before handing Ian an envelope. A mobile phone.

"Call home, see the family".

Ian smiled, eyes damp, heart full.

"I love you".

A matching smile. A kiss.

"Love you too".

Maybe being stuck in that cell for Christmas wasn't so bad after all.

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

ㅤㅤ70s rockstar!dieter bravo x innocent fanf!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, 70s rockstar au

word count: 2.2k

summary: it's the 70s and your friend invites you to an underground club where one of your favorite musicians is playing: dieter bravo.

warnings: innocence kink, mild corruption kink, backstage s.ex, piv, dirty talk, weed, oral + handjob (male receiving)

a/n: this is my secret santa gift for @dark-scape! I hope you like it! 🎄🎄🎄 and thank you to @pedrostories who hosted the event, I had a blast writing this and I hope you enjoy, happy holidays! ♡♡♡

You stand at the entrance of the dimly lit alley, feeling the air thick with anticipation. Diane stands right next to you, equally as excited but way more relaxed compared to you. The muffled sound of a soulful guitar seeps through the cracks, sending shivers down your spine.

“Come on, don’t look so scared,” Diane says, taking you by the hand. “There’s a reason why I brought you here today. A little birdie told me Dieter Bravo is playing tonight in secret.” 

"Dieter? Like, THE Dieter Bravo?" you stammer, your eyes widening with disbelief.

“The one and only. Now let’s go!”

Excitement bubbles within you as you process the information. Dieter, the musician whose records adorn your bedroom walls, is playing. You can’t believe it. Knots form in your stomach and you have the sudden urge to gag. What would you do if he tried to talk to you? 

You vigorously shake your head. That wouldn’t happen. There’s no way he notices you among the crowd.

Nonetheless, you’re still excited.  

As you walk in, your heart beats madly within your chest. The air carries a sweet, heavy scent of incense, and the dimly lit space is adorned with wild tapestries. The soulful strumming of a guitar creates a low buzz as people chat and laugh, immersed in the ambiance.

The shifting colors of the lights cast a dreamy glow over the scene. You notice multiple people making out, most of them pushed against the walls. It’s a very close-knit scene. A lava lamp flickers in the background now and then, the shadows playing over the colorful walls.

Navigating through the crowd, you discover the heart of the club—a small stage bathed in psychedelic lights. It’s empty for now and once more you feel your pulse racing. The room pulses with a different kind of energy, experimental and free. Occasionally, there's a hint of something herbal in the air.

Diane leans closer to you, her lips brushing against your ear, “Let’s head to the front, they’re up in five!” 

The anticipation in the room reaches its peak as the lights dim even further, and the crowd hushes in unison. The stage comes alive with a burst of colors, and there he is—Dieter Bravo, center stage, bathed in the vibrant hues.

The crowd erupts in cheers and applause as Dieter starts strumming his guitar, the soulful notes resonating through the room. His voice, smooth and magnetic, weaves through the melodies, casting a spell on everyone in the room. You find yourself swaying to the rhythm, completely captivated.

While the music envelops the space, you catch Dieter's eye. His mischievous smile sends a shockwave through you, and you feel your body tingle with embarrassment. Is he really looking at you? The possibility sends your heart into a frenzy.

Diane nudges you, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Looks like someone caught the eye of the rock god himself," she teases, giving you a playful grin.

You can't help but glance back at Dieter, and this time, he holds your gaze. His fingers glide effortlessly over the strings, but his eyes stay locked on yours. Your breath hitches as you watch Dieter play, his fingers moving over the strings with such skill and fluidity. You had never felt this way before, so drawn to someone like this. . . You can't believe how he can make a simple guitar sound so sensual and seductive.

You find yourself unable to look away, and Dieter notices, a sly grin spreading across his lips. Your eyes meet and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through your body. He winks at you and slowly licks his lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

You can't help but imagine what it would be like to have those talented hands caressing your body, making you feel things you’ve never felt before. But deep down you know it won’t work out. He probably wasn’t even looking at you but at the crowd in general, there’s no way the heat in his gaze was directed at you. 

The last note fades into the air, Dieter finally breaks the spell and looks away, confirming your thoughts, yet, a coy smile still plays on his lips. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart and the fire that his performance has ignited inside you. 

Dieter stands up from his stool and enters the backstage area. You watch him disappear behind the curtain, but before you can snap out of your daze, someone taps you on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, Dieter would like to see you backstage," a stagehand says, gesturing towards the curtain.

You hesitate, unsure if you should go. But something inside you tugs at your curiosity, and before you know it, you're telling Diane you’ll be back in a second and following the stagehand toward the backstage area.

Stepping behind the curtain, you're hit with a flurry of activity: instruments being packed away, band members chatting, and Dieter standing in the corner, a small smile on his face as he sees you enter.

"Hey," he greets, walking over to you. "I'm glad you came back here."

You smile nervously, feeling a rush of excitement and nerves all at once. You can't believe you're actually standing backstage with Dieter.

Dieter leads you to a secluded small room. You sit down on a couch, and Dieter sits down next to you, his thigh brushing against yours.

"I saw you in the crowd," he says, looking at you with a hint of admiration in his eyes. You notice him pulling out a joint and lighting it. He takes a deep breath before offering it to you. 

You shake your head, declining.

"No thanks, I don't smoke," you say, a small smile on your lips.

Dieter raises his eyebrows, his grin growing wider.

"Interesting," he says, his voice laced with amusement. "Usually the people that come to my shows can’t wait to get a hit. I can’t wait to get to know you more. . . intimately."

Dieter's words send a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but feel a spark of excitement at the thought of him being interested in you. You've always had a bit of an innocent personality, and the idea of Dieter being drawn to that only adds fuel to the fire.

He leans in closer to you, warm breath tickling your cheek.

"I have a bit of a soft spot for innocent types like you," he says, his voice low. "It turns me on."

A surge of heat spreads through your body, and you can feel yourself burning up under his gaze. You can't believe this is happening, that Dieter of all people is showing interest in you.

He leans in even closer, his lips almost brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I want to show you a good time."

Dieter's words send a jolt of arousal through you, and you get lost in the moment as he starts kissing your neck. But a sense of embarrassment washes over you, and you feel the need to stop him before things go any further.

"Wait," you murmur, pulling back slightly. "I've never done this before."

Dieter smiles, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks. "That's even better."

Your heart races at his words, and you feel yourself getting even more wet. Dieter takes your wrist and guides your hand to his impressive bulge, causing you to gasp at the feeling of him underneath his pants.

"See how much you turn me on?" he murmurs, his lips still on your neck. "Do you want to explore more?"

You nod, unable to find the words to express how much you want this. Dieter moves his hand down to the hem of your dress, deftly sliding it up your legs. You feel a surge of nervousness at the thought of him fingering you, but the excitement and desire coursing through your body overpowers it.

Dieter smirks, his fingers finding their way to your underwear. He starts rubbing teasing circles against your clit, making you moan breathlessly. You try to muffle your sounds, but Dieter stops you.

"Don't hold back," he whispers, his hot breath tickling your ear. "I want to hear how much you're enjoying this."

With his permission, you let yourself go and start making louder noises, each touch of his fingers sending waves of pleasure through your body. Dieter continues to tease you, alternating between slow and fast movements, driving you crazy.

"Does it feel good?" he asks, his voice a seductive whisper against your ear. "Being fingered by your favorite rockstar?"

You can only nod, unable to form a coherent sentence as Dieter's skilled fingers bring you closer and closer to the edge. And when you finally reach your climax with a cry of pleasure, Dieter smirks triumphantly before leaning in to kiss you.

Dieter breaks the kiss and guides your hand to his already hard cock. Your breathing quickens as you wrap your fingers around it, feeling its impressive size and girth. Dieter groans, his head falling back as you start to stroke him, your hand moving up and down his shaft.

You feel his pulse racing beneath your touch, his breathing becoming more ragged with each stroke. You glance up at him and see the intense desire in his eyes, fueling your own fire even more.

"Fuck, keep going," Dieter moans, his hips slightly thrusting into your hand. And you do, picking up the pace as you stroke him faster, your own arousal building again at the sight of him losing control.

His grip on your wrist is firm but not too tight, guiding your hand up and down his length. The heat emanating from him as you work your hand makes your head spin, feeling the softness of his skin contrasting with the hardness of his arousal.

"Is this what you wanted?" Dieter asks, his voice low and gruff as he watches you intently.

You can only nod, unable to find your voice as you focus on your task at hand. Dieter's breathing becomes heavier and his hips start to move in rhythm with your strokes. His eyes are locked on yours, and you can see the desire and pleasure in them.

Feeling bold, you lean in and press your lips against his, eliciting a groan from deep within his throat. His hands move to your hips, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

Dieter's body tenses under your touch, and you know he's close. 

"I can't take it anymore," Dieter groans, stopping your hand and pulling you over his lap in one smooth motion. You gasp as he positions himself at your entrance, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusts up into you.

"Oh god, Dieter," you moan, your head falling back as he fills you completely. His strokes are deep and powerful, rocking your entire body as he pounds into you.

As he continues to move inside you, Dieter starts to whisper in your ear, his voice deep and full of gravel.

"You have no idea how much I love defiling such a pretty fan like you," he growls, his hands gripping your hips even tighter. "Seeing you lose control like this, it drives me wild."

You can feel his words send shivers down your spine, igniting a deeper fire within you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you meet his thrusts with your own.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Dieter groans, his pace becoming even more frenzied.

You can't help but moan and whimper as he continues to tease you, his words adding to the intense pleasure coursing through your body. He knows exactly how to push your buttons, and you can't imagine anything better than this moment.

"Dieter, I'm close," you cry out, your body trembling with each thrust. "Please, don't stop."

Dieter's eyes darken at your words, and he thrusts into you even faster. The pleasure building in your body becomes almost too much to handle, and you can feel yourself reaching your peak.

With a loud cry, you climax, your body tensing as you gush around him. Dieter groans and thrusts a few more times before pulling out and telling you to get on your knees.

You quickly comply, sinking to the floor and opening your mouth, eager for his release. Dieter stands above you, his hand stroking his cock as he looks down at you with a hungry expression.

"Such a good girl," he says, his voice filled with desire. "Now, open wide and take all of me."

You obediently open your mouth wider as he guides his cock between your lips, pushing himself inside. You moan around him, the taste of him driving you wild as he begins to move in and out of your mouth.

His thrusts become rougher and more erratic, and you can feel his release getting closer. You suck and lick him eagerly, wanting to taste every drop of his release.

With one final thrust, Dieter cries out and spills himself into your mouth. You swallow it all, eagerly taking every inch of him until he is spent.

As he pulls away, he looks down at you with a satisfied smile. "You did so well, my little fan," he says, helping you to your feet. "Nothing beats sex after a concert."

“Was. . . was I good?” 

Pulling you on top of his lap once more, he claims his lips, his cock twitching as he tastes himself on your tongue. 

“You were perfect.”