Wes/Reader | Dollface Oneshots

Baby, It's Cold Outside (Smut)

Summary: Reader and Wes bond over mistletoe and spend a wintry night together.

Content Warning: Marking, biting, bruising, fingering, oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex

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Traditions are interesting things. From barely held-together ornaments hanging on carefully curated fir trees to curling up with a cup of hot chocolate to watch the same old movies despite knowing all the words by heart, the holidays were the perfect time to exercise the bounds of age-old traditions. Some were more interesting than others. This season I was particularly fixated on the Saturnalian tradition pertaining to suspended shrubbery.

Mistletoe, the twig and berries meant to represent love, peace, and... well, some other, more lewd things. It's questionable backstory aside, I decided to focus on the first of the things: love.

Because traditions aren't unique to the holidays, and you needn't look further than our company break room to see what I mean. Every single morning, without fail, one resident veterinarian would stumble in with only half-brushed bedhead and make a beeline for the coffee machine.

This time, though, he would find an extra obstacle in his way before he could make it to his beloved beverage. Hung just above the pot, dangling rather obviously from the cabinet, was a small bundle of berries. And next to those berries was me, idling around the kitchenette and waiting for opportunity to strike.

Of course, when Wes walked in, his response was about what I expected. While he did almost make it all the way to the pot, he'd stopped just before he could be considered under the mistletoe, turning to look at me with a mischievous little glint that was just begging for me to join him.

So, I did, gliding over and pouring myself another cup like there wasn't an ulterior motive to my existing in that space with him.

I'd expected the story to end there, with him teasing my blatant attempts at flirting as nothing but harmless fun. But to my genuine surprise, Wes put his hand over mine on the handle of the pot before he took one very purposeful step forward, placing the two of us squarely under the branch together.

It wasn't the action that made my heart skip a beat, although it certainly didn't help its already panicked pace, it was the way he looked at me as he stood there. Our chests were pressed against each other and our hands still together as he challenged me with nothing but a smirk and narrowed eyes.

I couldn't let him get away with it, though. Not after all the work I'd put in so far. Standing just a little bit taller, I leaned ever so slightly forward while I managed to whisper with just a little bit of pride, "Caught you."

Again, Wes caught me off guard with absolutely no fight to his words. Instead, a soft and still sleepy, "Why, yes you did."

But then his devilish playfulness kicked in seconds later, and he started to close the gap between us much faster than before.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked through a wicked grin, "Kiss me?"

For a moment, I considered it. I thought about all the different ways this situation could end. I imagined how it would feel to finally feel his lips against mine, and I pictured how sweet it would be to see his eyes half-lidded and filled with a similar desire in my own.

But then I chickened out. It wasn't entirely my fault, either. It was his fault, really. Since the first day on the job, I was repeatedly and sternly warned that Wes did not tolerate workplace romance. I couldn't blame him; it was a recipe for disaster. It didn't make me want him any less, though. And on some days, I would swear he felt that same magnetism. But that day wasn't one of them. I was too nervous from the intensity and proximity.