#again thanks for tagging me! this was fun

[gothcsz]

December | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 6 of Unscripted Desire | ~16k wc | Series Masterlist | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Your winter getaway with Javier.

Tags: alternating pov, javi is having an identity crisis, established relationship, fluff (i cringe), romance (still cringing), smut (no longer cringing), jealous!javi, oh no the triple frontier boys are here, oral (m&f), p in v sex, once again: javi is clipped, filming a sex tape, dirty porn talk, hot tub sex, pussy/dick pronouns, javi puts you in a headlock (i've been influenced by all the headlock fics also stream headlock by imogen heap), breath control play, squirting, clit stimulation, no use of y/n, reader has some vague physical descriptions (mid-sized, curvy, hair that can have fingers run through), any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay thx.

A/N: happy holidays ❄️ i wanted to do something fun for the season and to thank everyone who has supported this story so far! i love you guys 🩵 as always, thank you @persephone-girl for reading over bits of this and being my emotional support hehe

You’ve barely shut the door when a loud, frustrated “Fuck!” echoes through your apartment, followed by the unmistakable clatter of things hitting the floor. Your brows knit together as you toss your keys into the bowl by the entrance and hang your bag on the back of a kitchen chair.

The sight waiting for you confirms your suspicions: your very hot, very frustrated boyfriend is pacing in the middle of the room, his broad shoulders tight with tension. Scattered across the coffee table and floor around him are puzzle pieces.

“Javi,” you say, crossing your arms as you take in the scene. “What’s going on?”

He stops mid-stride, scowling down at the pieces as though they’ve personally insulted him. “The fucking puzzle is broken,” he gestures angrily toward the mess.

You blink at him, biting back a grin. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point. You have to put it back together.” Your voice lilts with playful teasing, hoping to lighten the mood he is in.

He shoots you a look that’s equal parts annoyed and sheepish. Stepping forward, you place yourself squarely in his path, wrapping your arms around his waist.

He’s got no choice but to halt his pacing, and after a moment, his arms drop heavily around you. You can feel the frustration draining out of him like air from a balloon.

“Estoy volviéndome loco, nena.” His chest rises and falls in a heavy exhale, hands instinctively finding their place on your lower back. 

You look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. It’s hard not to get lost in his good looks—those dark, soulful eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hair falls perfectly so, no matter how much he’s been raking his fingers through it.

He could be pissed at the entire world, and he’d still be the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

He told you he was done with porn, and he meant it. It didn’t happen all at once, he stuck to solo work until he lost the passion for it entirely before finally cutting ties with his agent and declaring himself “retired.”

The checks will keep coming, sure, but they aren’t a permanent safety net. That left your boyfriend at a crossroads, staring down the daunting question of what came next.

“Fuck, I don’t know. What else am I even good at?”

Now, Pornstar Javier Peña is just… Javi. Without the glitz and veneer of his former life, he’s a bit of a mess, honestly. A hot mess, sure, but a mess all the same.

He spends most of his days drifting between your apartment and his place, and more often than not, it’s your bed he ends up in. Sometimes he’s sprawled on the couch, lazily surfing through the channels, other times he’s fast asleep, limbs tangled in your sheets, his brow furrowed even while dreaming.

It’s like he’s waiting for the pieces of himself to fall into place but has no idea where to start.

You have, actually, tried helping him find new interests, with mixed results.

Cooking classes? A bust—too many rules and timers for someone who likes to work off instinct. Hiking? Not his thing, and you’d barely made it halfway up the trail before he declared he needed a cold beer and a hot shower. Pottery seemed promising for about five minutes before a poorly shaped bowl sent him muttering a string of Spanish curses under his breath and he quit then and there.

It’s not that he’s… bad at these things, necessarily, but none of them feel true to him.

“Baby, you’re not going to figure out who you are overnight. It takes time,” you murmur, tilting your head up to press a kiss to the tip of his chin, the roughness of his stubble brushing against your lips.

He grumbles. “I’m impatient.”

“I noticed,” you tease, a giggle slipping out as your hands sneak under his shirt. Your fingers trail along his ribs, stroking the warm, solid muscle there. The quiet hum of satisfaction you let out isn’t for his benefit—it’s for you. He feels so damn good under your touch, like he was built to be admired.

Javier shifts slightly, straightening up as if your hands have hit a reset button on his mood. “How was your day?”

You started a new job with the camera crew on an actual film set, and it’s a sweet gig, the opportunity kind of landing in your lap out of nowhere. Someone you knew from college reached out, and the pay was too good to pass up, even if the work itself wasn’t all that different from what you’ve done on porn sets.

Less dicks and tits, but the same technical work. When you’re not on set, you’re still clinging to the comfort of your shifts at Lucky’s. 

You shrug lightly, nuzzling into him. “Same as always. Nothing too exciting. But I’m glad I don’t have to work the bar tonight. Maybe I can help you with that puzzle.” You tease.

“Or…” His tone shifts so quickly it’s almost dizzying—warm and doting one second, low and sinful the next. His hands drift south, firmly gripping your ass and giving it a harsh squeeze

“Or?” you repeat, your arousal flaring.

That’s all the invitation he needs.

In no time, you find yourself naked and sprawled against the coffee table, the surface pressing into your back while scattered puzzle pieces stick to your damp skin. But none of that matters—not when Javier is between your legs, his broad shoulders holding you open like a prize only he gets to claim.

His mouth is buried in your pussy, wet and eager tongue moving with a purpose that has your thighs trembling. He laps at you expertly, each flick and thrust inside your cunt dragging whimpers out of you, your body singing under his touch.

Javier groans, the sound vibrating against your pussy. “You taste so,” kiss, “fucking,” lick, “good,” suck. Your back arches and you sob his name loudly, eyes fluttering close at how good he is at eating you out.

No matter how many times he does it, he somehow manages to surpass the time before. Men like Javier are a rare thing, and you’re annoyed at yourself for not succumbing to him earlier. You just had to prove a fucking point.

He pulls back just enough to lick and bite at your inner thigh, trying to control himself from devouring you whole, before diving back in. His hands keep you pinned to the edge of the table as you shake uncontrollably in his grasp.

Every obscene noise he makes is matched by the wet, filthy sounds of his tongue working you over and you feel the pressure winding tighter and tighter. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling as you gasp his name, and the pleased growl he gives in response sends you careening over.

He doesn’t stop, not until your body shudders and you’re left panting, your limbs heavy and boneless. When he finally lifts his head, mustache damp and lips glistening, he’s looking at you with that satisfied smirk you’ve grown accustomed to seeing.

“Fuck, I could stay down here for hours.” His voice tapers off into a groan and he doesn’t wait for a reply before pressing soft kisses along your drenched folds, letting his teeth scrape ever so lightly against your sensitive flesh. Then his tongue, broad and sinful, drags a slow, torturous stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“You could… if you wanted to,” you pant, your voice barely above a whisper as your body gears up for even more pleasure. You pull him closer, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the delicious pressure of his nose pressing against your swollen nub.

Javier lets you take what you need, his large hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady while his tongue thrusts back inside, exploring every fluttering inch. His curved nose rubs against your clit with each motion, sending you into a fucking frenzy.

You’re shameless, unabashedly humping his face, chasing the high only he can give you. And he loves it—thrives on it—his tongue relentless as it maps out every curve and crevice of your pussy. The slick, creamy mess makes it easier for you to move, his grunts and your mewling cries swirling together.

“Javi, I want to come on your cock—oh fuck!” The words tumble out before you can stop them, and his answer is a wicked nip of his teeth against your labia, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

“You will, nena,” he murmurs, his voice slurred with lust as he adjusts your legs, planting your feet at the edge of the table. He spreads you open obscenely, his dark eyes gleaming as he takes in the sight of your wet pussy laid bare for him. “But first, you’re gonna come all over my tongue again. Puta madre, you’re so fucking hot.”

His tongue flicks over your pearl rapidly and your back arches off the table as euphoria courses through you. You glance down, locking eyes with him, and the pruriency in his gaze sends you tumbling over the edge.

“Javier, oh shit!” You’re left helpless against the onslaught of his mouth, gushing all over his handsome face as he keens in satisfaction.

You collapse back against the table, your body spent and your mind still buzzing. Javier wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning smugly down at you, his girthy cock hanging heavy between you, droplets of precum squirting from the slit and drizzling down the heated shaft.

Pros of dating a pornstar: He can fuck. Cons of dating a pornstar: He can fuck.

It’s like being in a constant state of delicious ruin, where your needs—both romantic and sexual—are met in ways you never thought possible.

But damn, this man knows how to wear you the fuck out.

Sometimes he gets a little too ambitious. Twisting, bending, and pulling you into positions that make you pause and remind him, between panting breaths, that you’re not as flexible as the women he’s been with before.

“Practice makes perfect, baby,” he always says with that infuriatingly charming grin, right before fucking you so thoroughly that you forget how to breathe.

This time is no different. Javier hovers over you with the kind of dominance that makes your pussy clench, his strong hands gripping your body like he owns it.

Somehow, he’s managed to maneuver you on the awkward height of the coffee table, one leg slung over his broad shoulder while keeping your opposite thigh spread wide.

Then, with a sharp thrust, his fat cock splits you open, stretching your pussy in a way that’s so brutally perfect.

The force of it knocks a loud yelp from your lips, your forearms press against the table for balance. You can’t look away from where your bodies meet, watching in filthy fascination as your sticky folds swallow him whole and spit him back out, his cock glistening with the rich evidence of how turned on you are.

“My fucking god,” he growls, words laden with desperation, “you feel better than you fucking taste.” He spits the words out, literally, a thick bead of saliva falling from his lips to land on your cunt.

Without missing a beat, his thumb moves to your clit, pressing down and swirling in tight circles.

The pressure makes your entire body tense, a strained cry of his name tearing from your throat.

Your tits bounce wildly with every rough thrust, and his dark eyes flicker between the hypnotic sway of your breasts and the lewd sight of your pussy stretched tight around his dick.

Your mouth hangs open, brows furrowed as helpless sounds spill out while his cock punches deep into that one spot that has colorful dots blotching your vision. Your toes curl as the overwhelming feeling builds, your body on the verge of complete surrender.

“Right there, baby—oh fuck me, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” You sound wrecked, like you’ve been possessed by the pleasure he’s giving you. Your back falls flat against the table again, your hands reaching up to squeeze your tits, pulling at your nipples as you let him use your cunt however he wants. 

He deserves it.

Loose curls fall over his face, making him look so sexy while he fucks into you with everything he’s got. His tongue pokes out in concentration, his fingertips dimpling the plush skin of your thighs as he holds you steady. The poor coffee table groans beneath the brutal rhythm, creaking with every hard snap of his hips.

It doesn’t take much more—your body seizes up as you come hard, the orgasm crashing through you so violently that you’re certain you’re going to pass out. Your pussy clamps down around his shaft, milking him for everything he’s worth.

“Fuck, take it,” he groans, his pace faltering as he spills inside you, thick ropes of cum filling your pussy until you swear you can feel it gurgling in your throat. The vicious, overwhelming sensation makes you shudder, your body twitching as his weight settles against you, his cock still buried deep inside your quivering walls.

You feel pulverized, your body humming in content, but all you can think is: God, this man could fuck me to death, and I’d die happy.

Immediately, your calf seizes, the muscle knotting painfully as a piercing cry slices through your throat. Your body jerks involuntarily, hands pressing against Javier’s chest to push him off you.

“Shit, stop— cramp!” you gasp.

Javier freezes, his face instantly morphing from focused lust to deep concern. He pulls out of you carefully, hissing at the feeling, his touch tender as he lowers your trembling leg from his shoulder. “Where? Here?” He’s already massaging the rigid knot in your calf with his strong, calloused hands.

“Yeah—fuck, ow! Right there.” Another pang shoots through you, and you wince, clutching at the edge of the coffee table for stability. “I keep telling you I’m not fit for—ahh, ow!—your crazy-ass positions.”

He huffs a little laugh, though his hands never stop their steady kneading. “It wasn’t that crazy,” he mutters defensively, but one warning glare from you is enough to shut him up.

Once the cramp begins to ease, your body relaxes against the table with a long sigh. Javier’s touch softens, his thumbs now sweeping soothing circles over your calf. He leans down and presses a kiss to the tender muscle, murmuring, “Sorry, nena. Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Your heart swells at his care, and you can’t help but grin as he kisses his way up your body. His lips trace a slow, reverent path—your pelvis, the softness of your belly, the suppleness of each breast, the hollow of your throat. By the time his mouth meets yours, your annoyance is completely forgotten, replaced by a lazy, bubbling affection.

This is the first real kiss he’s given you since you got home, and it’s the kind that melts you from the inside out. You hum against his lips, your tongue tracing the curve of his mouth, savoring the way he tastes like sex and something inherently Javi.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both sit there for a moment, naked and tangled together, his cum still slick between your thighs and smearing against the surface of the table.

“I’ll try to be more considerate next time,” he says, almost teasingly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

You smirk, dragging your nails lightly down his chest. “You better, or I’ll start vetoing these gymnastic stunts of yours.”

He chuckles, his eyes dropping briefly to where his cum is trickling from you. A rueful grin spreads across his face as he reaches for the shirt he’d discarded earlier and uses it to clean the mess between your legs.

The simple domesticity of the act makes your chest ache in the best way.

As he finishes, you stretch your arms over your head, your muscles still warm and loose despite the cramp. “I need a shower, some real food... and maybe another round later.”

“Only maybe?” He raises an eyebrow, his dimpled, teasing smile returning.

You hum thoughtfully, your gaze tracing the defined line of his jaw as your finger follows. “If you think sex is gonna be a distraction from the mess in your head, think again.”

“It’s the best distraction,” he mutters. “Would rather make my girl feel good than deal with everything else.”

“And while I’m flattered, baby, it’s not the healthiest thing you can do.”

His expression falters, the cockiness slipping away like a mask being gently peeled back. “I’m fuckin’ terrible at this. Always have been,” he mutters, his hands roaming your body as if touching you might patch together all that’s unraveling inside him.

His palms are warm and firm, one cupping your breast in a gentle squeeze, the other sliding down to rest at your hip.

He kneads and caresses you, almost like you’re the one who needs the comfort instead of him. “I’ve spent so much time doing what I thought people wanted from me. Now I don’t even know what I want.”

“There’s no rush to figure it out, you know. No one’s expecting you to and I promise you’re not the only person that feels this way.”

“Feels like I’ve got nothin’ to show for myself, though. Just a pile of bullshit and a broken puzzle.”

You sit up, drawing his focus to you as your hands grip his toned biceps to steady yourself. “Hey.” Your voice is soft but insistent. “You’ve got more than you think. And I happen to like this version of you—even if he’s a grump.”

A faint smirk breaks through the inner struggle that clouds in his eyes. “Yeah? Even when I’m bein’ a lazy ass?”

“Even then,” you tease, grinning back at him.

His gaze lingers, drinking you in with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours. You’re weightless, floating in the way only Javi can make you feel when he kisses you like this.

“I don’t deserve you, you know that?” he murmurs against your lips, his forehead resting against yours.

“It’s always nice to be reminded.”

He rolls his eyes playfully, his teeth catching your lower lip in a gentle bite before he finally lets you go. He stands, offering you his hand to pull you to your feet.

As you wobbly get up, a few puzzle pieces that had clung to your skin fall to the floor, catching both your attention. Javi chuckles, a little more relaxed than before. “Should’ve cleaned those up before spreading you open like that.”

“I feel like there’s a metaphor in there somewhere.”

He turns you gently so he can pluck off the remaining pieces, his hand lingering to deliver a playful slap to your ass which makes you giggle.

“You know,” you say after a beat, glancing at him, “this puzzle thing could be good for you. Builds patience.”

He arches a brow, skepticism written all over his face. “Once again, that isn’t exactly my strong suit, cariño.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Your grin is infectious as you nudge him lightly with your shoulder. “But maybe that’s what you need right now. Something slow. Something that’s just for you. And something that isn’t…” You trail off, eyes darting to the box abandoned on the couch. “A hideous horse puzzle. God, Javi, what even is this? I’d be pissed trying to put it together too.”

A scoff escapes him, sharp and playful, his brown eyes narrowing as he straightens. “First of all, it’s vintage,” he says, the mock defense in his tone making you laugh.

“Vintage? That’s not an excuse.” You’re already stepping back when you see the shift in his stance, the way his hand twitches toward you. “Don’t even think about it.”

But it’s too late. His fingers dart out in an attempt to pinch your side, and you squeal, darting out of reach. The sound of your laughter fills the room, loud and unrestrained as you scramble to keep distance between the two of you. He’s, unsurprisingly, quicker, his footsteps closing behind as he chases you down the hallway.

Just as you reach the bathroom door, his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against his naked body. You’re both breathless, his warm breath fanning against your ear as he holds you close. “Gotcha.”

Your heart pounds, your laughter subsiding into soft, breathy chuckles as you twist to face him. The sparkle in his eyes is undeniable and you let him walk you backwards into the bathroom with the intention of piping you down again before finally letting you shower.

The late afternoon light filters through the half-closed blinds, casting warm, golden stripes across Javier’s bedroom. You’re sprawled on his bed, your legs stretched out, absently flipping through a magazine. 

The quiet creak of the bedroom door catches your attention, and your eyes lift to meet his.

He leans against the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame, arms crossed over his chest. His white t-shirt clings to his torso in a way that makes your thighs rub together, the fabric stretched taut over his solid build. There’s a small grin on his lips as he watches you.

“Hey,” he drawls, finally pushing off the door and crossing the room.

“Hi.”

Without hesitation, he climbs onto the bed, his weight shifting the mattress beneath you. He crawls toward you, settling his head on your lap and nuzzling against your stomach. You can’t help but laugh softly, moving the magazine out of his way and onto the bedside table.

“You’re comfortable,” you tease, your fingers threading through his thick hair, twisting a few strands absently around your finger.

His eyes flutter shut at your touch, a satisfied hum rumbling from his chest. “Can’t help it. I’ve got the best pillow.”

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. “Can I help you?”

He opens one eye, peering up at you with a smirk. “I have a gift for you.”

Your brows lift, curious. “A gift?”

“Mm-hmm,” he mutters against your skin, peppering your jawline with lazy, affectionate kisses. The bristle of his mustache has goosebumps curling over your skin. “Tis the season.” He punctuates the sentiment with a playful nip at your neck, making you squeal softly before he pulls away.

“Come on,” he tugs gently at your hand and coaxes you off the bed.

You let him guide you into the kitchen, your bare feet padding against the cool floor. He pulls out a barstool, gesturing for you to sit as he reaches for something on the counter. With a small flourish, he places a travel magazine in front of you, flipping it open to a glossy spread.

Your eyes land on the page, and your breath catches. The images are of a stunning ski resort, nestled in snow-dusted mountains with cozy lodge interiors and breathtaking views of the slopes.

“You didn’t…” you whisper, your voice caught between disbelief and excitement.

His lips tug into a wolfish smile, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes as he watches the realization dawn on your face.

“You didn’t!” you exclaim, jumping up from the stool and throwing your arms around his neck.

Your momentum nearly topples him, but he steadies the both of you with a low chuckle.

You’d mentioned it what feels like ages ago—a casual, offhand story about that ill-fated trip to the mountains with your college friends.

Everything about it had gone wrong. The busted gear, the unexpected blizzard—but through all the chaos, you’d confessed how badly you still wanted to cross skiing off your bucket list.

And Javier remembered. Not just the story, but the way your eyes had lit up despite the unfortunate circumstances. Now here he is, ready to give you that second chance—the best do-over of all time, with him.

“I had to,” he murmurs by your ear. “Spending a week on a winter retreat with you seems a lot more fun than going home this year.”

You don’t press about his family, knowing it’s a tricky subject. Instead, you let the moment settle, your heart swelling with gratitude for his thoughtfulness.

“You’re the best,” you say between a flurry of kisses, peppering his face until his deep chuckle vibrates against your palms. His eyes crinkle at the corners, happiness radiating from him as he gazes down at you.

“The best for you,” he replies softly. “You deserve this, nena. Workin’ so hard all the time… I just wanted to give you somethin’ special.”

You shake your head, grinning so hard it hurts your cheeks. “Do you know how impossible it’s going to be to top this?”

He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “I wasn’t expecting anything in return.”

“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t get my man a gift?” You’re already racking your brain for ideas. It has to be something meaningful—something that feels right for him, not just a wallet or some cologne.

He pulls you onto his lap when he sits on the barstool, going over the details. 

Everything’s covered, he explains—all you have to do is pack and show your pretty ass up. Your excitement bubbles over at the thought, visions of cozy lodge nights and snowy adventures filling your mind.

“Guess I need to go shopping,” you say, already making mental plans to call Connie for help picking out the perfect wardrobe.

Javi chuckles, leaning in to kiss your temple. “Just don’t forget to pack a swimsuit.”

“A swimsuit? For a ski trip?”

He grins, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Hot tubs, nena. Trust me, I plan on having a lot of fun with you while we’re away.”

The resort feels like a dream you don’t want to wake up from. It’s only been a few days, and you’re already dreading your departure.

Javier really hadn’t held back, booking a private cabin with sweeping views of the snow-kissed mountain horizon.

A real Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner of the living room, next to the fireplace, its lights twinkling softly against the glassy expanse of the giant windows that line the walls.

Despite the openness, the space feels warm and intimate, like it was made just for the two of you.

And then there’s the hot tub. Nestled in the patio area overlooking the gorgeous scenery, it practically beckons you to defile it, steam curling up against the chilled glass. 

You’ve been biding your time, waiting for the right moment to unveil the gift you have for him. It’s actually kind of genius and the perfect way to help pull him out of his post-porn funk. 

For now, though, you’re content to let the days unfold naturally, filled with skiing lessons, childish snowball fights outside your cabin, and lots of great sex.

The lift sways gently as it carries you and Javier up the mountain, the cool air biting at your cheeks, though you barely notice.

Your attention drifts to him, as it often does—his profile sharp and striking against the backdrop of the rising sun. The golden light casts a glow over the snowy peaks, painting the scene in colors too beautiful to let slip away.

You shift closer to him, the insulated fabric of your jacket brushing against his as you tilt your head to rest on his shoulder. His arm instinctively drapes across your lap, steadying you, his gloved hand giving your thigh a light squeeze.

“Take a picture with me,” your voice is eager, breaking the quiet hum of the lift.

Javier turns his head, a brow quirked beneath the edge of his snow goggles. “Now? On this thing?”

“Yes, now.” You’re already moving to pull the small camera out of your pocket. “The view is perfect, and I want to remember this.”

He chuckles, leaning back slightly to give you space to situate the camera. “Alright, but if you drop it, don’t start bitching at me.”

You roll your eyes, holding the camera up and adjusting the angle to capture the two of you against the sprawling mountains bathed in warm hues, making the snow sparkle. 

You make sure to move both of your goggles so they’re resting atop of your head, your faces on full display.

Javier tilts his head closer to yours, his hand slipping to your waist to pull you snug against him.

“Smile,” you say, though you know it’s unnecessary—he’s already grinning, that playful smirk you’ve come to adore on his pouty pink lips.

The camera clicks as you take a few photos. Smiling, him kissing your cheek, and you quickly check the screen once you’re finished, heart warming at the sight of the two of you.

“See? Perfect.” You declare, showing him the pictures.

He glances at them, mirroring the same doting expression you’d just made. “You make ‘em look perfect, nenita.”

As the lift continues to ascend, you find yourself watching him more than the scenery. 

It’s hard not to marvel at the layers to this man who had once driven you up the wall. You think back to when you first met him—how easily you’d pegged him as cocky and self-centered, someone who wore his charm like a defense mechanism.

It feels surreal now, knowing how wrong you were. Javier wasn’t just the confident pornstar that could command a room with just a look or a smile. He was thoughtful, protective, and deeply giving in ways that made your heart stutter. You can’t fathom how someone like his ex would ever think about cheating on him.

Lost in thought, you don’t realize you’ve gone quiet until he glances down at you, brows knitting slightly.

“What’s on your mind, cariño?”

“You really surprise me, you know that?”

His expression shifts, the teasing edge softening into something more earnest. “Surprise you how?”

“I thought I had you all figured out when we first met.”

His mustache twitches as he bites back a knowing grin. “In your defense, I didn’t let you see more than that.” 

“Yeah, I know...” You laugh lightly, shaking your head. “But I couldn’t have been more wrong. You’re… so much more than I gave you credit for.”

He’s quiet for a second, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Guess I should thank you for giving me a chance to prove you wrong.”

You lean in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, nose scrunching as the hairs of his mustache tickle you. “You’ve done more than just prove me wrong, Javi.”

The lift jerks slightly as it approaches the landing, but neither of you move right away. The world feels quieter here, suspended between earth and sky, just the two of you and the golden light.

“You’re going to make me fall for you talkin’ like that.”

You feel warmth spreading in your chest at his words, wondering if it’s too soon to start catching feelings like this.

You smile against his mouth, not saying anything yet not needing to, before pulling back to move your face covering up and adjust your goggles back over your eyes in preparation to go down the snowy hill.

Your shoulders ache slightly from today’s falls, but it’s the kind of soreness that feels good—earned, but nevertheless annoying. Like now, as you pick yourself up from yet another fall, calling it quits.

“You held out a lot longer than I expected.” Javier teases, his voice muffled by his face covering but still carrying that low, raspy timbre that makes your stomach flutter.

“Shut up,” you grumble, and you’re glad he can’t see the smile tugging at your lips.

You take him in—bundled up in his blue snow suit, goggles perched perfectly in place, his broad shoulders and confident stance somehow still exuding that effortless magnetism he carries everywhere.

Even out here, in the freezing cold, with his face obscured, he manages to look unfairly sexy.

Something about him always pulls you in. Maybe it’s the way his energy feels like gravity, anchoring you to every little thing he does. Or maybe it’s how even the simplest acts—like standing on a snowy hillside—become more vivid, more fun, more everything with him.

Your boots crunch through the snow, the skis clumsy but manageable. He’s watching you, his stance casual, hands resting on his poles as if he’s been doing this his whole life.

He had picked up on this activity much quicker than you. The instructor even called him a natural—but you’re certain she was only saying that because she was attracted to him… which, honestly, fair.

“This is your thing,” he says as you approach. “You’re the one who wanted to cross this off your little list. I’m just here for moral support... and to check you out in that suit.”

You burst out laughing, nearly stumbling again as you try to grab the poles you’d dropped when you fell over. “You can barely see anything in this suit,” you shoot back, gesturing to the thick layers of waterproof fabric that make you feel more like a marshmallow than a person.

“Baby,” he drawls, stepping closer, “I could make out those tits and that ass under anything.”

You shake your head, warmth blooming across your cheeks. “You’re such a fucking flirt,” you say, though your voice softens as his gloved hand reaches out to pull you to him.

“And yet, here you are,” he murmurs, leaning just close enough that you catch the mischievous glint in his eyes through the reflective goggles.

“Here I am.”

You’re back at the general area where you’d first gotten your ski gear, adjusting your snow boots while Javier deals with returning your equipment. 

The air is warm inside the lodge, a stark contrast to the crisp chill outside, and the hum of other skiers and snowboarders unwinding after their runs fills the space.

You’re so focused on fastening a particularly stubborn buckle that the sound of your name catches you off guard.

Your head snaps up, brows furrowing, and there he is. Frankie.

He’s making his way toward you, his strides familiar, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, and that lazy, warm smile plastered on his face like it hasn’t been forever since you last saw him.

Your surprise must show because his grin widens slightly as he stops in front of the bench you’re sitting on.

“Frankie, wow, hey.” Your voice is polite, if a little flat.

He wastes no time, dropping down onto the bench beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The sudden weight makes it creak, and though you subtly shift a little away, he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“Small world.” He’s looking at you with an easy kind of interest, eyes warm and familiar. You have a type. “Didn’t know you were into skiing, hermosa. How have you been?”

Your stomach does a little flip at the damn nickname but you keep your expression neutral, returning your focus to lacing your second boot. “Great, actually. I’m trying it for the first time. Been taking lessons since we got here.”

His brow lifts, amused. “And how’s that going for you?”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you tug off your gloves. “I’ve wiped out more times than I’d care to admit.”

He chuckles, stripping off his own gloves, clearly in no rush.

“So what brings you here?” The question feels innocent enough.

“Trip with the guys,” he answers, nodding his head in the direction of a group near a counter. You glance over and sure enough, you see the familiar faces from his circle, all caught up in their own conversation.

“Sounds fun,” you offer, “How’s Elliana? Not too happy her daddy’s missing Christmas, I’m sure.” You smile teasingly, meaning no harm, but the flicker of something on his face makes you pause. His jaw tenses ever so slightly, and the way he drops his gaze feels telling.

“She’s great. Actually, on a trip of her own with her mom and her... uh, new boyfriend.”

You catch the faint cringe he tries to hide as the explanation comes tumbling out. Your chest tightens in an uncomfortable way, not out of sympathy for him, exactly, but more at the reminder of why you two had split up to begin with.

Looks like his effort to “work things out” hadn’t exactly panned out.

“Good for her,” you reply softly, though the exchange feels a little awkward now, like neither of you knows quite where to steer the conversation.

Frankie opens his mouth to say something else, maybe an apology for oversharing or another attempt at small talk, but before he can, you catch a glimpse of Javier weaving through the crowd.

Your heart lifts instantly, as if the room somehow brightens at the sight of him. His tall frame stands out, eyes scanning the lodge, clearly searching for you.

You don’t give Frankie the chance to drag things out any further.

You quickly gather your things, standing as casually as you can. “I have to get going,” you announce, shouldering your bag. “Enjoy the rest of your stay, Frankie.”

He hesitates before he gives you a small nod. “For sure. You too, hermosa. See you around.”

You give him a brief wave before turning and making your way to Javier, your boots thudding lightly against the floor.

His face lights up when he spots you, his gloved hand resting gently on your lower back once he pulls you to him.

“You all set?” he asks, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. The simple affection melts away whatever oddness you felt lingering from your run-in with Frankie.

“Yeah,” you reply, glancing up at him. He looks so effortlessly attractive, his cheeks pink from the cold and brown hair tousled from being under his hat. “I’m ready to get all cozy by the fire.” You purr the words a little, blinking up at him, and it works like a charm.

That sweet smile of his shifts into something sultry, and you don’t miss the way his fingers curl slightly against your back.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” His voice slipping into that seductive, honeyed tone that makes you wish you could fuck a voice. “Lead the way, nena.”

The cocktail table feels like your personal island amidst the ebb and flow of the crowd, the muted hum of holiday music weaving through the air. Warmth blooms across your cheeks from the drinks you’ve nursed through the night, and the haze only amplifies the rich sound of Javier’s laughter.

His hand rests on your lower back, fingertips brushing over the smooth, exposed skin where your dress dips low. The heat of his touch sears into you, enticing enough to have you arching into him.

You giggle as he leans in closer, his breath grazing your ear as he whispers something puckishly suggestive. “You keep lookin’ at me like that and we’re not makin’ it back to the cabin without me pulling this dress off you.”

Your thighs press together instinctively and you bite down on your lip, tilting your head to look up at him, your eyes swimming with the shared heat between you. “Don’t tempt me into letting you do it,” your words are a bit slurred from the alcohol, saturated with desire.

“Oh, I’m not looking to tempt you,” he murmurs, his hand sliding an inch lower. “I’m promising you.”

Your stomach flips, and the idea of staying out any longer feels suddenly impossible, the phantom touch of his hands and lips on you eclipsing all reason.

If there wasn’t an audience, you know you’d already be on your knees with four inches in your mouth, trying to fit the other four like the needy little thing he reduces you to when he gets you all horny.

“Sit tight, nena,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your lips. “Gotta hit the restroom. When I’m back, we’ll settle up and get out of here.”

You nod, though your brain barely processes the words as your eyes follow him weaving through the throng of people, his presence polarizing even in his absence. 

As you sip the last of your drink, your gaze shifts to the large windows lining the restaurant. 

Even at night, the resort resembles something out of a postcard. The twinkling holiday lights outside illuminating the snow in festive tones. You let yourself sink into the magic of it all, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of your glass, a serene moment settling over you—until it’s promptly shattered.

“Look who it is,” a voice cuts through the ambient noise, pulling your attention.

Your head turns, and there’s Frankie, his easy grin and brown eyes locked on you. He’s not alone, three more figures flank him—Santi, Benny, and Will, each wearing varying degrees of amusement on their faces. The sight of them, clearly under the influence and rowdy, throws you a little.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Frankie quips, his voice carrying that raspy drawl you once found charming.

Your eyes narrow, your posture stiffening. “You keep finding me, wouldn’t necessarily call that meeting,” you acknowledge curtly, trying to keep your voice neutral.

“Once he told us you were here, we couldn’t pass up the chance to say hello,” Benny adds, his grin wolfish as he scans you from head to toe, and you can practically feel his gaze lingering on the dip of your dress. “We miss having you around.”

You know these men. You spent enough time with them while dating Frankie to be able to place them all.

Santi, the smooth-talking charmer who always seems a little too pleased with himself. Benny, the loud, lovable wildcard who you’re sure has never taken anything seriously in his life. And Will, the quiet one with a piercing gaze that could unnerve anyone who wasn’t used to it.

They’re a reminder of why you usually avoid military men. Sure, they’re hot as hell, their confidence and strength undeniably attractive. But beneath that lies a mess of issues—trauma, control, and a certain recklessness that always seems to spill over into their romantic lives.

Frankie had been no different, but he’d wormed his way past your better judgment with that soft charm and rough-around-the-edges allure. And it didn’t hurt that he was real fucking good at eating pussy.

Not as good as Javier, though.

You take a step back, your hand reflexively resting on the edge of the table as though to steady yourself. Their presence feels suffocating, a sharp contrast to the cozy, all consuming warmth you’d just shared with Javi.

“That’s nice of you, but my boyfriend should be back any minute now...”

There’s a beat of silence as your words hang in the air, they exchange looks and you watch Frankie’s expression flicker—something almost smug crossing his features before it’s masked by a crooked smile. “Boyfriend, huh?”

Benny lets out a low whistle, leaning his forearms against the table top. “Didn’t think anyone could tame Fish’s girl.”

“Tame?” You shoot him a glare. “I’m not a fucking animal and certainly not his girl. Not for a while now. So you can all fuck off.”

They laugh at you and that only fires you up even more. Frankie slaps his hand on Benny’s shoulder, shaking him slightly. “Ease up man, she doesn’t take any shit.”

Benny cocks his head, his eyes gleaming with drunken amusement. “Which I think is hot. Definitely wouldn’t have fumbled you like this asshole did. And you do porn?” Another low whistle and you swear your eye twitches.

Before you can respond, Santi jumps in, his smirk as infuriating as ever. “No, no,” he says, shaking his head with mock seriousness. “Camera woman. Not actually a pornstar. Though,” he adds, now his turn to fuck you with his eyes, “I think you’d be a lot better in front of the camera, hermosa.”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, your patience wearing thin. You can’t stay in this conversation any longer. 

Santi raises his hands in false defense, his grin never faltering. Meanwhile, Will leans over to whisper something into his brother’s ear, and you catch the shift in Benny’s expression as he gives you a once-over, his gaze laced with something that makes your skin crawl.

You grip the glass in your hand tighter, seriously contemplating how much damage it could do.

“Things serious with your new man?” Frankie replaces Will across from you and you roll your eyes.

The audacity. “Yes,” you say through gritted teeth. “Very.” You lean forward slightly, your voice dropping into a cutting tone. “If I were you, I’d leave before he gets back… or before I shove the stem of this glass down your throat.”

Their laughter rises again, whistling and being overly obnoxious about your reply, but you ignore it, your focus razor-sharp on your ex.

“We had our time together, Frankie, and you decided to cut it short by going back to the mother of your child. Whatever, fine, shit happens, but now you’re acting like a real jerk. All of you are and I have no interest in continuing whatever the fuck this is, so, leave.”

You can tell your words hit their mark. Frankie has always respected your no-nonsense attitude, but being on the receiving end clearly doesn’t sit well with him. 

Just as you turn to remove yourself from this stifling mess altogether, Javier reappears.

Javier doesn’t expect to come back and find four men crowding you, their broad shoulders and cocky stances cutting into your space like they own it. The sight stops him cold, but only for a second. Then his back straightens, his jaw locking tight as something territorial flares in his chest.

One of them catches his eye immediately—the scruffy, stray-dog-looking motherfucker he’d recognize anywhere.

That damn Malibu shoot, the tipping point for all the change that came after. The memory of Frankie all over you, the obnoxious flirting, how you had played into it.

Then you left Robbie’s crew and he made his move, securing you as his girlfriend, getting exactly what he wanted.

Javier had no right to feel possessive when it happened, even though every fiber of his being had screamed at him to do something about it. Sure, you shared moments that left him restless and aching for more, but it wasn’t enough to stake a claim, no matter how badly he wanted to, and you were so adamant about not wanting anything to do with him.

So, he’d done the only thing he could—told himself to get over it and buried the jealousy under layers of maintained indifference.

But now? Now you’re his girl. The first real, healthy relationship he’s had since Lorraine, and there’s no way in hell he’s holding back about anything when it comes to you. Especially not when Frankie and his action-movie crew are standing there, eyeing you like you’re some trophy to win.

“What’s goin’ on?” His voice cuts through the noise of their conversation, sharp and unyielding as he closes the distance.

He’s met with four pairs of eyes—two amused, one indifferent, and Frankie’s, which narrow slightly in recognition. Javier keeps his focus steady, his gaze hard as he takes them in.

His confidence has grown over the years, forged by his experiences and the praise from the industry. Yet, there’s still that lingering thread of insecurity that twists in his gut as he watches Frankie make his indifference clear.

“We were just catching up. Saying hello,” Frankie answers almost too casually, but his eyes gleam with something else—a challenge.

Javier doesn’t flinch. Instead, he steps closer to you, his hand finding your waist. “Looks like you’ve said it. Time to move on.”

Beside Frankie, one of the men grins as if he’s enjoying the show. “Easy, man,” he says, his tone teasing. “We’re just being friendly.”

Javier’s jaw ticks, a muscle in his cheek jumping as his grip on you tightens slightly. “Friendly looks more like crowding someone who doesn’t want to talk to you.”

While you’ve never gone into detail about what you had with Frankie, the updates Javier had gotten from Steve are enough to stir doubts. Words like satisfied are currently resurfacing to make him question things he knows aren’t true.

These men are something he isn’t. And even though you’re together now, there’s a small, irrational part of him that wonders if one day you’ll realize he isn’t what you want.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you—he does, with everything he’s got. But being cheated on leaves wounds that never fully close, scars that ache at the worst times. And seeing Frankie standing there, beaming like he still has a chance, stirs something primal in Javier.

“No need to get territorial, Peña. We were just having a little fun. Besides…” He trails off, his gaze flicking briefly to you before returning to Javier. “She can handle herself.”

Javier’s blood boils, his free hand twitching at his side. It would take so little—a single punch to wipe that smug look off his face. But then your hand is on his chest, soft and grounding.

“It’s fine. I was just telling them to leave.” 

Frankie’s gaze lingers on you in a look he recognizes all too well because he looks at you in the same goddamn way, and that has his vision tunneling.

“No harm done,” He steps back with exaggerated nonchalance. But then he throws one last barb over at you. “We’ll catch up some other time, hermosa.”

Javier doesn’t think, words slipping out before he can stop them. “No, the fuck you won’t. In fact, if I see any of you bother her again, I won’t hesitate to kick your ass.”

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try.”

For a moment it looks like things might escalate. But one of the other men—blonde, with a calmer air about him—steps in.

“Alright, boys,” he says, reaching out to pull his friend back. “Let’s not make a scene.”

Frankie hesitates, his jaw tightening, but he relents with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever.”

Javier watches them retreat, his heart still pounding, until they’re out of sight. Only then does he let his shoulders drop slightly.

“Hey,” you say gently, tilting your head to catch his gaze. “You okay?”

“I didn’t like that one fucking bit,” he mutters, his voice rough.

Your smile is gentle, reassuring, and you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek which melts him immediately. “They don’t matter,” you whisper, your lips brushing his skin. “You’re the only one I care about.”

The words ease the last of the tension, and Javier lets out a breath, pulling you close. “Damn right,” his tone softens as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Let’s get out of here,” you suggest, a small mischievous smile on your face, “Your gift is waiting for you back at the cabin.”

It’s as if the entire confrontation is forgotten at your words and he becomes intrigued immediately. “Oh yeah? Then what the fuck are we doin’ still standing here. Let’s go.”

“Are your eyes closed?”

Javier leans against the armrest of the couch, his lips curving into a small smile as your voice carries from the bedroom.

“Yeah,” he replies, shifting slightly, his eyes obediently shut.

“You’re not lying to me?”

“No.” He chuckles, the deep, easy sound rumbling from his chest.

There’s the faint shuffle of movement, and then he feels you—the subtle electricity that always seems to spark when you’re near.

His hands are cupped in front of him as instructed, his curiosity piqued. He has no idea what you’ve planned, no inkling of what’s coming.

Honestly, he can’t believe you actually got him anything. The trip itself has been more than enough—a week of unfiltered joy, amazing sex, and waking up to you in his arms. If that isn’t a gift in itself, then what is?

Then you’re standing in front of him, placing something in his hands. He feels the cool weight of it, the texture of smooth plastic beneath his fingertips.

“Okay, you can open them now.”

Javier’s eyes flutter open, immediately drawn to the object cradled in his palms. It’s a handheld camcorder, a glossy red ribbon tied around it like the finishing touch on a present. His brows knit together in brief confusion, but before he can ask, you fill in the blanks.

“I want us to make a tape together, Javi.”

Your words hit him like a freight train. No, they hit his cock like a freight train, and the damn thing stirs to life before his brain even fully registers the meaning.

“You naughty little thing,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into that gravelly tone that always gets a rise out of you.

You bite your lip, a playful giggle escaping. “I figured it’d be something fun for us,” you say, stepping closer until he can smell the faint traces of your perfume. “Plus… I really like how you fuck on camera. Not that it’s any different from what we do, but…”

You trail off with a small, breathy moan that makes Javier’s restraint snap. He sets the camera carefully on the couch before pulling you closer, his hands gripping the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric in his fists as he pulls you between his knees.

“But…?” he prompts, his lips finding the curve of your neck. He kisses, nips, and licks, each touch of his mouth drawing little gasps from you. You taste divine, every inch of you always does.

“But it’s different,” you breathe, your fingers digging into his biceps as his teeth graze your skin. “I want to experience what all those other stars do when shooting a scene with you.”

His lips crash against yours, the kiss heated and possessive. He can taste the remnants of the cocktails you had at dinner, but more than that, he tastes you.

The memory of those old sets pales in comparison to the thought of filming with you.

“I’m all yours, nena,” he growls against your lips, his hands slipping lower to slap your ass then gripping onto the flesh. “This is a brilliant fucking idea. I’ve been telling you how hot you’d look on camera. How do you want to do this?”

Your smile is roguish, your confidence intoxicating. “I want us to take turns filming... directing… Wanna get some good shots of me sucking your cock.”

Your hand trails down his arm, skimming over the muscles there, then lower to pinch his hip before you palm his erection through his pants, his hips jerking involuntarily as he grunts.

“And I definitely need footage of that tongue of yours working my pussy,” you add, your tone sultry. “We’ll figure the rest out as we go. I want to start in the hot tub.”

Javier swears under his breath, his head tilting back slightly as your touch sends a fresh wave of desire through him. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, voice thick with need.

You smile, giving him one last squeeze before pulling away, leaving him half-dazed and completely aroused. “Get changed and take the camera outside. I’ll join you once I put on my costume.”

“Costume?” His brows arch in curiosity as his eyes track your retreating form.

“Costume might be pushing it. It’s something to set the tone for the amateur vibe I want this to have. Even if we know what we’re doing.”

“Whatever you want,” he’s so desperate to take you, “I’m going to tear you the fuck up.”

You blow him a kiss, your giddiness as palpable as his. 

Javier watches you disappear into the bedroom, letting out a long breath as he stands and moves to his bag which you had purposefully, he realizes, brought out before leaving for dinner.

He pulls out his swim trunks, quickly changing and grabbing the camera again. He can’t help the simper pulling at his lips as he removes the ribbon and flits through the settings, familiarizing himself with it.

Javier slides open the patio door, the soft scrape of the glass breaking the stillness of the night. A cool breeze rushes in, sharp against his skin, but it’s a refreshing contrast to the heat coursing through his veins.

The glow of the string lights overhead reflects off the rippling water of the hot tub. They frame the scene perfectly, tiny stars encircling what already feels like a secluded slice of paradise.

He steps out onto the wooden deck, the chill biting at his bare chest and legs. A small shiver runs through him, but it’s chased away the moment he dips into the steaming water. The heat rises to meet him, coiling around him like an inviting embrace.

Javier lowers himself deeper into the tub, the warmth spreading instantly, soothing muscles. The jets hum to life with the press of a button, sending gentle ripples across the surface. Another tap, and the colorful lights beneath the water bloom, shifting from deep blue to vivid green, then a lurid red.

He leans back against the edge, one arm stretched casually along the rim, the other cradling the camcorder.

The setting is perfect—intimate, cozy, and alive with the kind of cinematic allure that’s been a part of his life for so long. Only this time, it’s personal. This time, it’s with you.

“Alright, I’m coming out,” your voice calls from inside, and Javier’s pulse spikes as if his body already knows it’s about to be wrecked. 

He shifts in the water, the tent in his briefs straining beneath the surface. His fingers move automatically, adjusting his grip on the camcorder, raising it to eye level, his thumb brushing over the small record button.

“Ready whenever you are,” he says, his voice a little lower, raspier.  

Through the steamy glass, he tracks your shadowy movements, catching fleeting glimpses of red that tease him to the point of madness.

The condensation and reflections blur the details, but it only adds to the attraction. He can feel his heart thudding against his ribs, a primal drumbeat that matches the ache in his cock.  

And then you step out, framed by the sliding door like a vision he couldn’t conjure even in his wildest fantasies.  

“Fuck me.”

The red bikini bottoms sit high on your hips, the delicate ties framing your curves like artwork. That vivid, sinful shade of red makes your skin seem to glow, the contrast leaving him weak.

In one hand is a bottle of champagne, the other holding two flutes, and his tongue pokes against his cheek at how festive you’re being.

He zooms in with the camera, starting at your legs then capturing every dip and swell of your thighs, the plushness he knows so well.

The lens follows up, slowly drinking in the soft curve of your stomach, lingering over the way your tits press against the satin ribbon wrapped around them like a present he’s dying to open. The bow tied between your cleavage looks precarious, like it might unravel at the slightest tug.

The silky fabric is no match for the chill in the air, your hardened nipples poking through in a way that makes his tongue twitch in his mouth at the thought of flitting it over the stiffened peaks. 

But then his gaze—and the lens—finds your face, and it’s game over. Your lips are parted, plump and glistening as you lick them, the slight haze in your eyes a telltale sign of the alcohol still swimming in your veins. Your lashes frame your eyes perfectly, their sparkle teasing him as if daring him to lose control.  

His mind is already racing ahead, imagining the way those lips will part as you take his cock into his mouth, the way your head will tilt back when he suckles at your clit, or how your eyes will roll into your skull when he’s buried deep inside your tight cunt.

“You look so fucking good. Shit,” he breathes, his voice shaky. The camcorder threatens to tremble in his hand as he refocuses on you, watching you strike playful poses against the doorframe, snowflakes getting caught in your hair.

Each one is more tantalizing than the last, and when you bend over to show him your sweet ass, he zooms in on how the red fabric outlines your pussy.

“Thank you,” you purr, your voice smooth and syrupy as you turn and saunter toward the tub, setting the drink and glasses aside. You exaggerate the sway of your hips, fully aware of the effect you have on him, and it’s almost too much.

He’s never had a woman make him feel this way.

Javier keeps the camera trained on you, his years of expertise blending seamlessly with his overwhelming desire to immortalize this moment.

The way the light dances off your skin, the ripple against your flesh as you move sensually, your smile—it’s all so perfectly you.

For a moment, he forgets the camera is even there. Every inch of you seems made for him, like a custom design he never dreamed he’d be lucky enough to have.

When you finally join him, stepping into the steaming water, his restraint frays to a thread. He’s gripping the camcorder like it’s the only thing keeping him from lunging at you.

“You’re teasing me, baby,” he rasps as he films you lowering yourself into the tub.  

“I know,” you reply with a flirty smile. “But don’t you love it?”  

“Too much,” he shifts his legs to relieve some of the pressure at his crotch, though it’s futile. He’s already undone, and the night’s only just begun. 

“Keep posing, like you did by the door,” Javier instructs while his dark eyes remain fixed on you, not the viewfinder. Capturing this for later is one thing, but experiencing it now is something he wants seared into his memory for the rest of his life.

“Flirt with the camera using those beautiful eyes, nena.”

You bite your lip, your lashes lowering as you tilt your head, blinking slowly at the lens. You know exactly what to do, and he guesses this comes from watching the other stars do it on set.

The result is undeniably erotic. Knowing that you’ve never done it before like this, yet exude such natural talent, makes the moment infinitely hotter.

The water kisses your skin, glistening under the string lights and making every curve gleam like a jewel. You shift your weight, cocking your hip, arching your back—it’s fluid, seductive. Droplets of water run over your tits and how badly does he want to reach out and lick at them.

He will, he just wants to get enough footage of just you being so damn sexy.

You move with languid grace, tilting your head just so, and then giggling as you reach for the champagne. The sound is rousing, making his cock twitch.

You curl your finger, beckoning him closer, and he obeys without hesitation, the camera steady in his hands as he floats toward you. 

You pour the golden liquid into your glass, bringing it to your lips with a playful flick of your tongue along the rim, a teasing preview of what’s to come.

When you tilt your head back, letting the bubbly glide past your lips, your throat moves with every swallow and he makes sure to let the shot linger there, fixated.

“Mmm,” the sound is a decadent hum that has his teeth sinking into his lower lip. “Tastes so good.”

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he growls, his large hand reaching up to cradle your jaw. His thumb brushes over your cheek, warm and damp under his touch, before sinking his fingers into the soft skin. “Look at how gorgeous my girl is.”

He angles your face toward the camera, showing you off like a precious work of art. You go pliant under his touch, your eyes locking on the lens as you bring the glass to your lips again, deliberately spilling the champagne, letting it cascade over your jaw and his waiting fingers, trickling down his wrist in a sticky, sparkling trail.

“Oops,” you say, your tone dripping with false innocence. Lowering your head, your tongue darts out, tracing the line of champagne from his pulse point up to his fingers.

You take the tip of his finger into your mouth, sucking lightly, swirling your tongue around the pad before releasing it with a wet, lingering kiss.

“Dios mío,” Javier groans, his hips shifting as his swollen cock brushes against your thigh. The soft gasp that escapes you only feeds his need. “Pretty and dirty. A real fuckin’ star.”

His hand trails lower, abandoning your face to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over the damp fabric before tugging at it, unraveling it completely. 

The cool air kisses your skin just before his touch follows, warm and possessive. He doesn’t ask—Javier never does when it comes to adoring you; he just takes, knowing how much you love it.

Especially when he plays with your tits.

You shake them playfully, the soft, bouncing motion making him snarl, the sound rumbling low in his chest.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his hand kneading your flesh, his thumb brushing over your nipple before he pinches it just hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from your lips.

His eyes flicker to the viewfinder, ensuring the camera catches every detail as he lavishes attention on you, pinching and rolling your puckered tips between his fingers until you’re squirming against him.

“Give me the camera,” you breathe through soft whimpers, reaching for it. He hands it over without a second thought, his hands lingering on yours as he relinquishes the device. 

The power shifts, and you waste no time, pointing the lens at him. “Suck on my tits, Javi,” you coo, each word laced with seduction, and his reaction is immediate.

He pulls you against him, your bodies slick with the heat and bubbles of the water, his hard cock pressing insistently between your thighs. His mouth finds your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he sucks it into his mouth, his teeth grazing it just enough to make you whine.

Your free hand tangles in his damp hair, guiding his head and angling his face for the camera as he lavishes attention on you. The viewfinder captures everything: the way his lips move, how his tongue circles your areola, the glistening trail of water droplets and his spit on your skin.

His mouth moves to your other breast to do the same, sucking harder this time.

“So good, baby,” your voice trembles with pleasure. “You’re so good to me.”

He chuckles low against your chest, relishing in your praise and how he’s able to make you react.

His large hands slide up, cupping your breasts as he pushes them together, burying his face between them and motorboating you. The deep, playful groan he lets out makes you laugh breathlessly behind the camera.

“Pass me the champagne,” Javi murmurs, his lips brushing your collarbone.

You loosen your hold on his hair, reaching for the bottle. The moment it’s in his hands, he tilts it back for a quick swig, the liquid catching the light as it drips from the corner of his mouth.

He pours a generous stream over your chest, the cool champagne trickling down the valley of your breasts. His tongue is quick to chase it, licking and sucking every drop, his movements rougher now, hungrier.

You adjust the camera, your arm stretched out to capture the way his mouth trails up to your neck, nipping and kissing as if he can’t get enough.

The wet, desperate sounds of your kisses fill the air, drowning out the gentle hum of the hot tub jets.

It’s messy, all tongue and teeth, as if he’s trying to consume you entirely.

Javier takes the camera back without breaking the kiss, adjusting the angle to film the way your lips move against his. His free hand grips your waist, guiding the both of you backward until his body presses against the tub’s edge. 

Snowflakes drift in on the breeze, clinging to your hair and his, melting instantly against your heated skin.

“You gonna be a good girl and show the camera how much you love my cock? How good you are at taking him down your throat?” he asks, his voice thick with lust, his lips brushing against your ear.

He zooms in on how your mouth parts in an eager smile.

“Yes,” you breathe, nodding with unrestrained excitement.

Javier lifts himself onto the tub’s edge, the chill in the air biting at his skin, but he doesn't care, not with the way his excitement overrides any of his discomfort. His legs remain submerged, spreading wide to give you space.

You move between them, the warm water lapping at your waist as your hands trail up his legs, your fingers kneading the firm muscle.

“I’ll make it extra good for you today, baby,” you promise, and he knows you mean every word.

He lifts his hips up to help you pull down his trunks, his erection bobbing free from its constraints. Javier hisses as the cool air hits him, but it’s quickly soothed when you wrap your fingers around his shaft and he groans, your softer touch feeling like fucking heaven.

You stroke him a few times, and the visual of you jerking his cock while the bubbles from the jets flutter around your bod has him tightening his grip on the camera.

As he watches you, he knows—he wouldn’t change a single thing about what got you here.

Not the fights, not the doubts, not the messy way you two stumbled into this, because every moment led to this one.

You hum, looking up at him through your lashes, giving the camera a flirty wink before your tongue darts out to kitten lick at his weeping tip, his skin flushed a devious red.

You start slowly, teasing the sensitive skin of his spongy head, swirling around it and tasting the saltiness of the precum that beads at the slit. He sucks in a sharp breath, his free hand tangling in your hair to guide you closer.

“So fucking perfect.”

Your eyes twinkle at the praise, taking him deeper, your lips stretching around his girth. The camera captures every second—his cock disappearing into your mouth, the way your cheeks hollow as you suck, the slick sounds of your efforts filling the air.

Javier’s hips jerk, unable to hold still as you bob your head, your tongue working him over. Drool slips from the corners of your lips, mixing with the water from the tub as you take him as deep as you can, gagging, the messy display making him curse under his breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his voice breaking. “You’re so goddamn good at this.”

You moan around him, the vibration making his grip in your hair tighten. You pull back to catch your breath, your hand stroking him while your tongue laves attention along the underside of his shaft, tracing every pulsating vein.

“Messy little thing,” he murmurs, the camera focusing on the spit shining his cock, dripping from your chin as you smile wickedly up at him.

“I like it messy,” you reply, your voice a foxy, hoarse purr before you take him back into your mouth, sucking harder, faster, the wet, obscene sounds driving him closer to finishing.

The camera feels heavier in his hand as he adjusts the focus, trying to capture every detail of this moment, but his heart beats faster when he realizes the truth: no recording, no photo, nothing tangible could ever truly do justice to what he feels right now. It’s more than physical. It’s more than lust.

It’s her. She’s it. She’s everything.

As if reading his mind, your gaze flicks up to meet his, and you fucking smile with his cock in your mouth.

He exhales a shaky breath, barely holding on to his composure when you release him with an audible pop and trail your tongue down his length. The hand pumping him doesn’t slow, but your mouth finds his inner thigh then his balls, licking and biting just enough to make his leg tense under you.

“Where do you want to come, Javi?” Your voice is a soft, breathy rasp, and his whole body reacts to the sound of it. Your hand moves faster, and he’s unable to form an answer before you stop abruptly, making him curse under his breath.

“In my hand?” Your grip tightens around his cock.

“Goddammit,” his frustration turns to a low, guttural noise when you lower your mouth and tap the tip of his cock against your tongue.

“Or on my tongue?” The slick glide of your lips as you tease him is pure torture, but you’re not done. You push your chest forward, letting his dick slap against the humps of your tits.

“Maybe all over these?” Your voice is sweet, almost playful, but your intentions are anything but. The sight of his cock glistening against your skin, the jiggle of your flesh under his weight, makes his vision blur for a second.

“Or are you going to hold it in and fill my pussy?”

The way you say it, so casually filthy, sends a jolt of arousal through him. He bites down hard on his lip, every muscle in his body tightening. You’ve always had a mouth on you, but this—this is something else entirely.

Your confidence, the way you’ve grown into yourself since being with him, sends a surge of pride through his chest. 

“Baby, I’m going to fuck you so full of my cum you’ll be tasting it for fucking weeks.”

Your breathless giggle is music to his ears, and when you lean in to kiss his cock, licking over the tip, his control shatters.

“C’mere,” he sneers, pulling you up into a heated kiss. His mouth is desperate, his teeth scraping against your lips. He adjusts, submerging himself back into the water, being mindful of the device, and pulling your back flush against his chest.

He angles the lens to capture the way your bodies press together, the steam from the water curling around you both. The viewfinder is flipped and shows your damp hair sticking to your face, his lips dragging over the curve of your neck.

“Look at how good we look,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp against your ear as his hand palms your breast, squeezing roughly.

A smile splits your face, drunk on the taste of his cock and the alcohol. Slowly, you shift on your toes, bending forward just enough to tease him with the curve of your ass, playfully wiggling it as you rub his cock between your cheeks.

“Come fuck me, Javi.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathes, bringing the camera lower to capture the way the bubbles skim over the curve of your body. He smacks each cheek, the sound sharp against the steady hum of the jets, and you huff, arching even more.

When he pulls at the strings of your bikini bottoms, letting the fabric fall away, he curses under his breath. “Mierda,” he hisses, his hand kneading your supple flesh before gripping the base of his cock and slapping it against your skin. 

He can’t help but grin as he shows off for the camera.

When he slides himself along your slick folds, he groans, feeling how wet you are for him. “Damn, suckin’ me off gets you this turned on, nena?” he asks, breathless.

You let out a needy whimper, nodding as your hips push back against him.

He doesn’t make you wait, sinking into you with a grunt that’s half your name and half prayer. The way your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, makes him swear under his breath as he sets a rhythm that sends water spilling over the edge of the tub.

“Oh, Javi, oh fuck!” Your voice is loud, shameless, and he loves every filthy syllable of it.

“You like that, huh?” he growls, slowing his thrusts to drag his cock out of you torturously slow, the tight suction of your pussy making him grit his teeth.

“Gorgeous fucking pussy doesn’t want to let me go,” he mutters, angling the camera to capture the way your body takes him so perfectly, the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you echoing around you.

He licks his lips, the phantom taste of your tangy sweetness haunting them, and the thought of you spread out while he loses himself in eating you out burns through him like fire.

The way you whimper in protest when he pulls out is enough to make him consider sinking back into your tight, sopping heat, but he reins himself in. Instead, his hand comes down on your ass, the sharp crack echoing in the chilled night air.

“None of that. Let’s move this party inside. I need to taste you.”

You bite your lip, shivering from the combination of his words and the cold air biting at your damp skin. 

Both of you are dripping water as you climb out of the hot tub, the biting chill of the night air wraps around you, sending goosebumps racing across your skin.

Javier notices, of course he does, and he drags his hands over your arms, a fleeting attempt at warming you before snagging the nearest towel.

“C’mere, nena,” he mutters, pulling you close. The towel is large, but his hands are clumsy as he rubs it over your body. The motion is both tender and hurried, his fingers lingering on the curves of your hips, your nice tits, and the slick heat between your thighs. “Can’t have you catching a cold now, can we?”

You giggle, your teeth chattering as you take the camera from him as he brings you inside. You stumble over the threshold, recording every imperfect second.

The contrast between the icy air outside and the inviting heat of the cabin is immediate, the crackling fireplace casting a golden glow across the room.

Javier wastes no time, pulling you toward the plush rug in front of the flames. You lay on your back, taking a moment to admire your boyfriend.

He’s a masterpiece carved by desire, every part of him sculpted to make you ache.

You handle the camera in your hands, the viewfinder framing Javier like the sex god that he is. You’re practically purring as the lens lingers on his thighs and how they flex subtly when he shifts his weight.

The camera pans higher and you feel that insistent heartbeat at your pussy.

His cock stands heavy and proud, the firelight casting shadows along his delicious length and girth. He’s gorgeous—thick veins trailing up velvety skin, the head angry and eager to punch into your cunt, his balls heavy with the load he’s already promised to fill you full of.

Continuing your digital ascent, you capture the sharp planes of his torso, his golden-brown skin glowing in the warmth of the flames. His chest rises and falls with slow, steady breaths.

Finally, you settle the shot on his lips, looking plush under that sexy ass mustache. They have ruined you time and time again with words, kisses, and the way they dote on every part of you.

“He’s so fucking good at using those.” You whisper to the camera.

“You done admiring?” He asks with playful arrogance, as if he hadn’t been absolutely eating up every reaction you had given to the body he’s sculpted into a living, breathing fantasy

“Never.”

He leans down to kiss you, sticky precum brushing against your lower stomach. Slyly, he takes the device from your hands, now his turn to marvel at you.

His lips part slightly as he looks at you, the flames illuminating every curve and dip of your body, painting you in shades of gold and amber.

“Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You bite your lip, your cheeks heated under his gaze. Javier adjusts the angle, zooming in on the way your thighs press together, craving him again.

“Spread your legs for me, nena.”

You hesitate, suddenly shy under the intensity of his gaze, but he makes it impossible to deny him when he looks at you like this.

Slowly, you part your legs, exposing yourself to him fully.

“Goddamn,” Javier growls, his free hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, his calloused fingers trailing to where you’re still sticky with arousal from how he’d taken you outside. He uses his thumb to spread open one of your pussy lips, revealing your pretty cunt to the camera, his thumb pressing down on your clit, smearing your juices around.

“You know how perfect you are?” he asks, his voice low as he sets the camera down at the perfect angle to capture what he’s about to do next. “Every fucking inch of you drives me crazy.”

Javier leans over you, his lips trailing down your neck to the hollow between your breasts. His hands spread you open further, his breath hot against your skin as he settles himself between your thighs.

You shudder as his lips press against your inner thigh, sinewy fingers keeping you spread open so the camera gets a good view of his tongue doing what it does best between your legs.

The fire crackles beside you, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his mouth as he begins to devour you, his tongue and lips coaxing soft moans and gasps from your lips.

He doesn’t rush. He takes his time, savoring every sound you make, every tremble of your body. He pulls back briefly, some of your slick clinging to his lips, just long enough to grab the camera again, angling it to capture your flushed face and the way your body arches toward him before handing it over to you.

You almost drop it from how fucking lightheaded he’s left you, but manage to hold onto it, doing your best to record this handsome man going down on you.

“No one else gets to see you like this. Just me.”

The possessiveness in Javier’s voice is laced with an edge of jealousy, a dark fire stoked by earlier moments that now claw their way back into his mind. Flashes of other men crowding you, eyeing what’s his, swirl in his thoughts, blending with images of you and Frankie tangled in your sheets. 

The thought ignites a growl deep in his chest. His fingers grip your thigh harder, nails biting into your skin as he buries his face between your legs with renewed intensity. 

His tongue swirls and flicks over your clit, his lips sealing around the swollen nub with a pressure that makes your toes curl.

He’s punishing those images, driving them out by proving how thoroughly you belong to him.

“Just you, Javi, no one else,” you gasp, your back arching off the plush rug. With one hand on the device, your other lets its fingers twist into his thick brown hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt against your slick heat.

The vibrations ripple through you, sending you closer to the edge, your walls fluttering with anticipation.

You’re close—he feels it in the way your thighs shake, the way your breath stutters. Determined to pull you over the edge, he buries his face deeper, his nose nudging your clit as he shakes his head back and forth.

The scratch of his mustache against your tender flesh only intensifies your pleasure, and when his lips seal around your swollen clit and he sucks harshly, it shatters you.

“Oh my God, Javier!” you scream, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash through you, the camera shaking violently in your hand. The heat of the nearby flames amplifies your euphoria, sweat beading on your skin.

“Pussy tastes so fuckin’ delicious,” his voice is muffled but heavy with want. Javier has always loved going down on women, but there’s something about you—your taste, your scent, the way your body responds to him—that drives him wild. 

His cock thrums painfully, desperate for relief. He’s grinding against the rug without even realizing it, his need to claim you consuming every thought.

Even as your thighs twitch in the aftermath of your orgasm, he laps up every drop, greedy for more, his tongue sweeping over your oversensitive flesh until you’re gasping and squirming beneath him. Only then does he pull away, his lips and chin glistening with your essence.

Taking the camera again, he points it at you, capturing the sight of you sprawled across the rug, utterly spent. Your chest rises and falls, your eyes half-lidded with bliss.

“¿Todo bien, nena?” he asks, gingerly yet smugly satisfied.

“Mhm,” you hum, stretching languidly under his touch. “Just need a minute.”

He strokes your face, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips and you kiss the rough pad softly. 

Wordlessly, he adjusts the lens, zooming in on your face, capturing the blissed-out expression that is all his doing. It makes him want to kiss you, so he does, bending down, his lips brushing yours in a smoldering liplock.

“Such a good kisser, Javi.” You chase after his mouth when he pulls away, bringing your hands up to cradle his face to keep your lips on his. He lets you, lost in the feeling in the same way you are, that poor camera idly recording the blur of your moving heads.

When he does finally pull back, he moves with purpose, setting up the camera on the coffee table, his fingers steady despite the heat thrumming through his veins.

He flips the viewfinder to showcase the two of you, positioning it to capture the perfect scene: the crackling fireplace, the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, the snow-kissed mountains visible through the frosted window, bathed in the silver moonlight.

The setup is a masterpiece, the kind of shot you’d call pure art. You’ve teased him about this before—how his talent for making things look so effortlessly beautiful extends even to his most smutty creations.

When Javier returns to you, his breath hitches. You’re stretched out on the rug, naked as the day you were born, your skin kissed by the soft illumination of the Christmas lights. You look up at him with a cheeky grin that makes his chest tighten and his cock throb.

“Hey, baby,” you say, your voice teasing yet soft, inviting him closer.

“Hi,” he murmurs back, his own lips shifting into a smile that mirrors yours.

He lowers himself to you again, cradling your jaw as if you’re the most delicate, precious thing he’s ever touched. “You havin’ fun?”

“So much,” you reply with a laugh that’s pure music to his ears. Your teeth catch his lower lip playfully, and your hand sneaks down between you, wrapping around his pulsating cock. The sound he lets out vibrates against your lips, and the look in his eyes is molten.

“Now fuck me full, Javi,” you whisper, your words bold and needy, a demand he’s more than eager to fulfill.

His hands are on you in an instant, pulling you up and shifting your body until you’re perfectly centered in the shot.

You look like a vision, his personal angel.

Javier kneels behind you, his strong hands gripping your hips, the pads of his fingers pressing into your skin just hard enough to leave marks he’ll admire later.

His cock teases your entrance, the slick head gliding over your swollen clit, and you mewl, your body quivering with anticipation. He watches, mesmerized, as you arch your back for him, offering yourself up completely.

Slowly, he sinks into you, savoring the way your walls envelop him, the tightness making him hiss through his teeth.

His grip tightens as he thrusts deeper, the stretch and fullness making you sob. The sound shoots straight to his cock, and he growls low in his throat, his hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt.

Your cries rise in pitch as he sets a brutal rhythm, each powerful thrust sending your tits bouncing uncontrollably. 

Javier leans back slightly, angling his body just so, ensuring the camera captures every detail—the way your pussy clenches and drips around his cock and how obscene the sounds of your bodies joining echo in the cabin.

His nose skims the side of your neck, his breath hot against your damp skin. He bites down gently, soothing the sting with his tongue, before whispering filthy promises into your ear, each word making you tighten around him.

“You were made for me,” he declares, “This tight pussy, fuck, no one else gets to feel how perfect she is. Just me. All mine.”

Something about being inside you triggers this untamed passion in him, an insatiable desire that no amount of good fucking can quench.

He’s relentless, taking and taking, chasing the pleasure that only you can give him. The thought of you creaming all over his cock, screaming his name, and begging for more while teetering on the edge of oblivion has him thrusting harder, deeper.

No one else has ever felt like this—like home and sin wrapped into one. Fucking you is better than anything he’s ever known.

It doesn’t even have to be elaborate or kinky—though he certainly doesn’t mind. He loves it all, from nights like this to the slow, sleepy mornings when he wakes you by sliding his cock into your warm, welcoming body, loving the way you melt against him with soft sighs.

Now, though, it’s anything but slow. His hips piston up into you, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust, and you’re crying out his name like a prayer.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice rough in your ear as his pace falters momentarily.

You’re too lost in the haze of bliss to respond right away, your whimpers spilling from your lips in broken waves. Javier slows, grinding into you, letting the friction bring you back to him.

“I said, do you trust me?” he repeats, his tone firmer.

“Y-Yes,” you stammer, your voice a breathy plea as your pussy clenches around him.

A dark, satisfied smirk spreads across his face. “I’m gonna put you in a headlock, baby. Keep you right where I want you while I tear this pretty pussy up like I promised.”

You mewl, the sound making his cock twitch inside you. He nips at your ear, his breath fanning against your skin. 

“If it’s too much, tap me three times, okay?” His voice softens slightly, a thread of tenderness weaving through the raw desire.

You nod eagerly, your voice trembling as you beg, “Please, Javi.”

When you turn your head to look at him, the vulnerability and trust in your eyes make his heart clench. Fuck, I love her.

Without another word, he surges forward to kiss you messily, his lips claiming yours as he loops a strong arm around your neck. The position pulls you flush against his chest, your back arching as he adjusts his knees, locking you into place.

“I’ll start slow, get that pussy purring,” he teases, his breath hot against your ear.

His cock drags against your walls, unhurried, and you shiver as he finds that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

“Right there,” you gasp, your voice hitching as your body tightens around him.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he groans, his arm tightening just enough to make your head swim in the most delicious way.

With a growl, he picks up his pace, pounding into you with enough force to get your body jolting against his. The rug beneath you rubs raw at your knees, each wet slap of his cock driving into your soaked pussy sending ripples of heat through your core.

Javier watches the way your body reacts to him from the viewfinder across the way. “That’s it, nena,” he clenches his teeth, his own release building as he claims you over and over again. His large fingers move from your hips down to toy with your clit. “Take it all. Take every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your hands shoot up to grip Javier’s arm, manicured nails biting into his flesh and leaving streaks of angry red lines down the muscled curve. The sting only fuels him, a feral satisfaction curling in his chest as you claw desperately for purchase.

Drool slips from the corner of your lips, pooling in the crease of his elbow, and he can’t help but smile smugly at the camera, his ego swelling alongside his cock. He’s unraveling you, making you fall apart so completely that you’re losing control—going stupid for his cock.

The slick sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, drowning out the crackling fire. You’re soaking him, your pussy so wet that the coarse hairs at the base of his cock are drenched, shining with your mixed juices.

He tightens his grip around your throat, your voice reduced to breathy, incoherent gasps. The pressure is perfect, the lack of air sending your senses spiraling as he pounds into you with reckless abandon, fingers relentless against your puffy clit.

It’s enough to coax your submission further, and he feels your slick walls start to quake around him. Your pussy flutters, gripping him so tightly it takes everything in him not to lose control right then.

“I—” You try to speak, but your words dissolve into an unintelligible cry as your orgasm slaps you right in the face.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Javier growls, his voice low and rough. He drives into you harder, faster, the head of his cock hitting that devastatingly deep spot that only he has been able to touch. Your eyes roll back, your cunt clenching him like a vice.

Your body trembles on the edge of euphoria and exhaustion. You lift your hand to tap out, but before you can, his own climax barrels through him like an angry bull.

His hips snap wildly as he spills into you. Hot spurts of cum fill you, thick and endless, his curses mixing with your cries as your body trembles uncontrollably.

The second he loosens his hold on your throat, air rushes back into your lungs, and with it comes a blinding, second wave of pleasure.

“Ah—fuck me!” you yelp, your body spasming as an intense pressure bursts inside you. Liquid heat sprays out of your pussy, soaking his lap and the carpet beneath you.

You fall forward, about to collapse, but Javier catches you, holding you close for a moment, his own body shaking as he fights to catch his breath.

The sticky warmth of your release and his cum pooling between your thighs has him grinning like a devil. “Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he pants, pulling out slowly, hissing at the tight drag of your walls around him.

Gently, he lowers you forward, your cheek pressing against the soft carpet. He goes to caress you, but your body twitches, still caught in the aftershocks, and you let out a weak, incoherent whimper.

“Too much. Don’t touch me. Don’t even look at me.”

He laughs, a low, heady sound, still lightheaded from his own climax. “Whatever you say,” he mutters, reaching for the camera. He adjusts the viewfinder, pointing it at your wrecked body bent over in front of the fireplace.

“C’mon, nena,” he coaxes. “Roll over for me. Gotta get a good shot of my cum dripping out of this perfect pussy.”

His vulgar words make your clit tingle but you know you can’t go for another round right now. Or any time soon, really.

With a soft huff, you roll onto your back, spreading your legs wide despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. Tears of pleasure still cloud your vision as you gaze up at him, your chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

The camera captures everything—your swollen, glistening folds, the obscene trail of his cum trickling from your hole, evidence of how thoroughly he’s claimed you.

A lewd gurgling sound fills the air as the thick, creamy fluid bubbles out of you, sliding down to smear across your puckered entrance.

Javier is transfixed, his cock twitching despite his exhaustion. The urge to stuff his spend back into you with his fingers is almost overwhelming, but he reels it in. You’ve tapped out, and he respects your limits.

“So fucking hot,” he murmurs, his voice reverent as he watches. “Blow a kiss to the camera, baby.”

You smile weakly, giggling through your exhaustion. Licking your lips slowly, you pucker up and blow a kiss toward the lens, finishing with a playful, fucked-out wink.

The action is pure lust and sweetness combined, and he lets out a satisfied hum before finally stopping the recording.

“My girl, you did so well,” Javier murmurs, his voice soft and full of admiration. His praise seeps into your skin like balm, soothing you with the warmth of his presence.

He reaches for the couch pillows and the throw blanket, crafting a cozy nest right there on the floor by the fire. 

He doesn’t care that you’re both sticky with sweat and the remnants of your passion— all he cares about is making you comfortable.

Feeling the fog of pleasure begin to lift, you roll onto your side, your body aching in the best way possible, reaching for him instinctively.

Javi doesn’t hesitate; he scoops you up with ease, settling you on his chest. Your head rests between his pecs, rising and falling with his steady breaths. His calloused fingers trail up and down your naked back, a calming rhythm that lulls you into serenity.

“I can’t believe I squirted,” you admit, your voice muffled against his chest. “Isn’t that…you know…piss? Shouldn’t we be in the shower right now?”

The question pulls a laugh from deep within him, a sound so rich and full that it vibrates through his chest and onto your cheek. “Eh,” he says, shrugging lazily. “Doesn’t really matter. What I do know is that I’m so damn proud of you, baby. I know the tape is goin’ to be fuckin’ gold.” His tone drips with adoration, each word laced with pride.

“But if it makes you feel better, we can always get back in the tub.”

You hum in response, nuzzling into the curve of his chest and letting your lips wander, pressing soft kisses over his golden skin. “That sounds really good, actually,” you murmur, your voice still laced with a dreamy haze. “But I don’t think I can walk.”

He lets out another laugh, his arms tightening around you. “I can carry you,” he offers, ever the gentleman, even now.

“Or,” you counter with a playful grin, trailing kisses up to his collarbone and then his jaw, “we could stay here, take a quick power nap by the fire, and then…” You pause, your lips brushing his as you whisper, “I can ride you.”

Javier groans, the sound low and full of mock exasperation. “You’re definitely trying to kill me.”

Your laughter mingles with his as you capture his lips in a kiss, slow and unhurried. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you entwined by the warmth of the fire. His hands cradle your face as yours slide into his hair, fingers weaving through the dark strands.

The kiss deepens, turning languid and exploratory, a perfect blend of tenderness and desire.

With you in his arms, he feels whole, like every piece of you was made to fit into his. Time seems to stretch and stop, the crackling fire and the soft hum of your breaths the only soundtrack to your moment.

Here, in his embrace, you’re not just his lover; you’re his everything.

i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @thundermartini . @auteurdelabre . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @yourmommycallsmemommy . @larascorneroftheworld . @letsmeetintheafterglow . @lunatiquess . @myownwholewildworld . @pasc4lfuzz . @sjc7542 . @almostfoxglove . @shy-taylorsversion . @theredvelvetbitch . @xxbadchoicexx . @lumpatto . @haylee-e . @guelyury . @doblasftcisco . @ashhlsstuff . @kluvspedro . @goodvibesonly421 .

[ns2dstudios]

My EPIC Journey

Where do I even begin? I have dreamt of being an animator ever since I was a little girl, growing up with the Disney animation renaissance era as well as a non-stop barrage of anime, in particular Dragonball Z. I even wrote in my high school yearbook that I dreamed of one day working for the studio that worked on Dragonball Z just so I can animate for that very series. And I made sure everyone knew it LOL

The dream didn't materialize, but after decades of struggle, I got something far better than I could ever have imagined. I get to animate at the comfort of my own home. I get the career I've always wanted, and am able to generally work at my own time. I get to work with a wonderful team (drawmisu, Camalemsy, Novi, Nathan Kuan, Jenny) who are generous with their time and talents and are fun to work with. And I get to work with wonderful clients who have changed my life and afforded me and my family the comforts we are enjoying, from Mortius, to Casper Fox, but most of all to Jorge Rivera-Herrans, whom I fondly call simply as Jay.

Jay gave me the amazing opportunity to be part of the roster of talented (skillented according to Casper) animator for the official EPIC: The Musical animatics and animations. He entrusted me with his vision, is just an overall joy to work with, and as some of you may know during the Vengeance Saga, literally saved my life for the simple fact that he commissioned me two animations (Dangerous and 600 strike finale), which allowed me, who does not have health insurance, to afford expensive care for a bad case of pneumonia. Without Jay, I would not only have reached my dreams, but I would literally not be here typing this. (Don't worry, with the generosity of my clients, I am actually now shopping around for a good health insurance company....which I know is a hot button topic right now, but I don't live in the US and our private health care here is often times better than public).

But I digress.

With the premiere of the Ithaca Saga, comes the conclusion of the concept album of EPIC: The Musical. But as Jay mentioned, the journey is far from done. I have so many things planned: more commissioned animatics from clients whom I also consider dear friends, more EPIC fan animatics and animations, more musical animatics from other IPs, an animated short, an animated trailer for my upcoming animated pilot episode, and so much more in the future!

Everything I have, the happiness and contentment that I am experiencing right now would not be possible had my paths not crossed with Jay's and his wonderful EPIC the Musical project. Our paths would not have crossed where it not for the EPIC fans who relentlessly tagged him in my animated works, which made him take notice and reach out. And I would not have become a big fan of EPIC, where it not for my cousin Julia, who had been relentless in her goal to turn me into an EPIC fan ever since the TROY saga dropped (I will never stop thank you, pinsan! Love you so much!)

This is not goodbye. This is see you again soon.

REAL SOON.

Bye for now, you guys! This has been Gwendy from NS2D Studios saying, I will see you, when I see you.

[jessamine-rose]

⋆*•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙˚  Mistletoe  ˚‧͙*̩̩͙❆•̩̩͙*⋆

Read my Yandere! Capitano fics first (੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭

Belated Merry Christmas, everyone!! Guess who got hit with Yandere! Capitano x Damsel! Darling inspiration on the night of Christmas and decided to write a late drabble…….I hope you all enjoy this fluffy gift ヽ(；▽；)ノ

Note:: Fem reader, this is not a dark fic but it is connected to a yandere series

♡ 0.5k words under the cut ♡

On the last day of the winter holidays, you ask Capitano if he would like to see your flower collection.

At first, Capitano thinks this is no different from his wife’s daily routine. When you aren’t pressing fresh flowers in your notebook, you are flipping through the previous pages to check on your collection.

In both scenarios, Capitano likes to observe you. Most enjoyable is when you go out of your way to invite him—those sessions always end in nostalgic conversations and a batch of newly preserved flowers given to him.

As such, he predicts a similar gift for this holiday.

The bedroom is silent, save for hushed voices and the rustling of paper.

It is a rare moment of peace after weeks of Fatui meetings and festivities. Once again, you are seated on your husband’s lap. As you turn the pages of your notebook, Capitano takes note of certain flowers.

Dandelions, dendrobium, Sumeru roses, forget-me-nots, astilbe, laurestine…

And so on. Each flower invokes a shared memory, a precious moment frozen in time. But you don’t reach the end of your collection.

Rather, you stop at a page of yellowish-green flower clusters. Before you can read out the name of the plant, Capitano has already recognized it.

Mistletoe.

“Do you remember this?” you ask him.

“...Yes,” he replies. Beneath his mask, his eyes widen with understanding. “Mistletoe, acquired during our trip to Fontaine. It fed on the trees that grew behind the House of the Hearth.”

Your voice takes on a playful tone. “I’m glad that Arlecchino allowed us to pick a few flowers. The mistletoe that grows in Fontaine is quite similar to Mondstadt’s.”

One sprig of mistletoe has not been glued to the page. You pick it up by the stem, twirling it between your fingers.

“At this time of the year,” you whisper, “I’d see this plant everywhere in Mondstadt, hanging over doorways and ceilings. The berries are quite pretty…have you heard of this tradition?”

So this was your strategy.

His thumb traces circles on your waist. “I have. Including other details.”

You turn to face him, a faint twinkle in your eye. “Is that so?”

The preserved mistletoe is placed on the desk, next to your closed notebook.

“I hope you like it,” you tell him. A small smile makes its way to your face as you straddle his lap. “I’ll give you your other gifts later.”

He pulls you closer, caressing your cheek. “I sincerely appreciate it.”

Capitano bows his head and you take the hint, placing your hands on either side of his mask to take it off. It joins the flowers on the desk.

And in the kisses that follow, a wish is shared.

“May we enjoy many more holidays together, my beloved flower.”

♡

Craving more Capitano and mistletoe?? (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Fun fact, my first brainrot of 2024 was this New Year’s post so I rlly wanted my last one to also be Capitano x Damsel. Starting and ending the year with CapiDamsel kisses <3

Special thanks to @diodellet for beta-reading this!! I also want to take this moment to thank my mutuals and everyone who read my work this year!! I hope you all enjoyed my last fic of 2024, and happy holidays╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Tag a Capitano enjoyer!! @leftdestiny-posts @brynn-lear @harmonysanreads @naraven @mochinon-yah @pranabefall @euniveve @zhongrin @jymwahuwu @silentmoths @stickyspeckledlight @teabutmakeitazure @nicebonescomrades

[demonic0angel]

Killer Croc and Solomon Grundy end up in a tag team wrestling match in the Ghost Zone against Wulf and Skulker. Danny and Dani are in the crowd, enjoying the show.

“I bet that Wulf and Skulker are going to win,” Dani said, throwing more popcorn into her mouth.

“That’s a loser’s bet,” Danny laughed. “Killer Croc and Solomon Grundy don’t even have powers like Wulf.”

“Hah! You’re right. Thank goodness we took away Skulker’s weapons though, to balance it out. Can you imagine the bloodbath?” They both grimaced at the thought of Skulker having his weapons for the fight. They could already imagine poor Croc in the aftermath.

In the arena, Solomon ripped off of one Skulker’s arms, but the cyborg ghost just picked it back up and whacked him over the head with it. The fight continued and both Danny and Dani were entirely focused on it.

Suddenly, a figure came towards them, squeezing through the crowd. “Sorry! Excuse me! Pardon! Sorry!” Dick was finally able to reach them and he immediately sat down with a cheerful grin. “So! Who’s winning?”

“Our side, sorry about that, boy wonder,” Dani said, not sounding sorry at all as she grinned and tipped the popcorn bag towards him.

Dick took some and looked around, confused. “Wait, where’s Jason?”

Danny sighed. “He’s in the other viewer box flirting with Jazz again.” Dani gagged at the thought of it.

Dick smirked. “At this rate, you two are going to have to become my in-laws.”

“At this rate, Dan and I will really have to kill him,” Dani muttered, while Danny gasped in pretend shock.

Before he could say anything, there was a roar from the crowd as Wulf swung Killer Croc around by the tail. He eventually tossed him into a wall and as the cries of the crowd grew louder and louder, Wulf began to beat up Killer Croc and Solomon with his fists. Skulker was in pieces, but he was to come over.

In the crowd, Danny stared at a furious looking Walker, whose fists clenched as if to hold himself back.

“Damn. At this rate, we better hurry up this fight before Walker gets the bright idea to fight Wulf himself.” He stood up and then flew over the arena to where Walker was. Dani sighed, handed the popcorn bag over to Dick, and then zipped over as well.

Well. It was fun while it lasted.

[xxnashiraxx]

Pairing: Astarion/f!Durge ◇ Astarion/f!OC (Ofelia)

Word Count: 6,119

Tags/Warnings: Mature (slight spice), Soft Astarion, Fluff

Summary: It's December in Baldur’s Gate and the snow is falling on Act 3 of Ofelia's adventure. After falling ill to a cold that prevents her from spreading the joy of Christmas to her companions, they decide to band together and prepare it in secret as a surprise for her. As they look for decorations, gifts, and a tree, Astarion reflects on his time with her and contemplates whether or not his gift will convey the depth of his true feelings...

divider here!

AO3 | Song Reference: Let it Snow!

Hi everyone!!! My apologies for this trainwreck, I tried my best on little time, but I really wanted to write something sweet for these two, and I owe inspiration for this oneshot to @caffeinatedmunchkin ! Thank you again friend!!! I also tried as far as the elvish, so please bear with me 🙏🏼

Please enjoy- fluff was needed for the season, and I hope everyone has a lovely day if you celebrate!!! ❤️ You do not need to read the main fic to read this one- it's its own little standalone! 💕

“So, you expect us to believe that some jolly old man goes around to every child in your world and delivers gifts on this ‘Christmas Eve’?” Gale's tone, while incredulous, remains cheerful. “That does not seem feasible, given your planet's population.”

“Well, not every child celebrates Christmas, so not all seven billion. But yeah pretty much,” Ofelia’s eyes light with amusement as Gale begins another spiel into logic and probability, causing Astarion to roll his eyes and grumble into the chalice of blood Ofelia had filled for him not but a few minutes ago.

“It's just make-believe!” Ofelia spouts around giggles, her smile bright. “Not real! Something you tell kids so they behave, but the holiday is still the same- parents get their children gifts, blame it on Santa, make cookies and leave milk out for him for his journey, hang stockings on the mantle to see if they get coal if they’re bad or sweets and little toys if they’re good. It's all for fun- I myself most enjoy the snow and decorations.” She sounds wistful as their ragtag group listens. He watches her face twist slightly as if recalling a bad memory, and he pays attention to the warble in her voice when she next speaks.

“I haven't had a real Christmas since I was still young enough to believe… my parents did everything for me, those first nine years. It was always so magical… pazole, tamales, candy, gifts- I wished they wouldn't have, but they'd do everything, take extra shifts just so there was something under the tree for me… I miss them this time of year. Just a little bit extra.” No longer afraid of the warmth that blooms in his chest, he reaches for her and when his hand rests over her shoulder she turns to him and quickly wipes the moisture from the corner of her eye. Her cheeks crease with an appreciative smile and she squeezes his hand in thanks as the others look around.

“Would you want to celebrate it here?” Karlach asks, setting her cleaned plate off to the side on one of the many little tables littered around their common space in the Elfsong.

“You guys want to?” Ofelia asks with a soft huff, hefty emotion washing from her voice amid the sweet hope that spreads over her face.

“We may not have Santa, but why not? The spirit of gift giving and love isn’t foreign here,” Gale smiles, patting Ofelia’s opposite shoulder.

“Okay… yeah! We’ll have to find a tree, and ornaments, and gift wrapping of some kind- paper will do! Stockings to hang over the fire for each of us… day after tomorrow!” Her eyes brighten at each syllable, and for all the teasing he’d love to utter, he can’t find it in himself to poke when this is the happiest she’s looked since they’d arrived in Baldur’s Gate.

And gods, if it isn’t the happiest he’s been, as well. Since Cazador fell. They still have the brain and two of the Dead Three's chosen left, but curse it all to the hells. Right now perhaps they can indulge in some respite from it all. The calm before the storm.

They move through the rest of the day restocking their supplies, tracking down various needs, and chasing some loose ends. They discover more of Orin’s handiwork littered throughout the city, much to Ofelia’s chagrin, but decide to turn in early in the hopes of getting started on their decorating. Unfortunately, fate has other plans.

“I’m afraid healing magic really only works on injuries and the like- I’m sorry, Ofelia. I know how much this meant to you… perhaps we can have it later in the week?” Shadowheart strokes the human’s face softly, her pale hand meeting russet, clammy skin. Ofelia nods, eyes shifting to a corner of the room as the half-elf leaves and shoots Astarion a pitying frown. When the door shuts, he sinks down beside her and strokes the hair off her cheeks and forehead, fever hot against his cold undead hands.

“This sucks…” She mutters, cheeks ruddy with heat as her body fights against an infection they have no hope of combatting with anything but time and herbs. Already, Jaheira had mixed what little items she had into a concoction Ofelia had knocked back minutes ago, and though a bit of color has returned to her lips, she’s not exactly the picture of good health.

“I’m sorry, darling,” He murmurs, resting the back of his hand against her cheek. He knows she likes it when he does, and she typically runs hot, but this is something else entirely and it pulls at his unbeating heart.

“No, it’s okay… it’s been so long since I’ve tried to decorate, but I did try last year- look.” She strains to her right to grab the object that always manages to mystify him and she starts to scroll through the little frozen pictures on her device before holding some up to him. “I got this really stupid fake tiny tree and I put all those little things on it, got some tinsel and hung it up around the doors and windows.” He peers down at the small room she’d once called home- bright metallic garlands trimming the entryways with twinkling lights adorning the small tree that sits on a table in the center of it. His lips tick up at the corners as he sees her in the next photo, bright red painted lips and golden eyelids, some terribly gaudy red and green jumper covering her chest.

“Beautiful, and loud. As always,” She rolls her eyes at his attempt to poke fun, leaning down more fully onto his right elbow as she tucks herself closer to him.

“I wanted to get a big one this time… really show you guys what it looks like, though I’m not sure what the hell I’d do about the bulbs, or lights, or star on top…” She smiles up at him and he feels his chest twinge with guilt. Of course she’d gone and gotten herself sick somehow…

“There’s… always next year,” He says around the strange doubt in his mind. It’s nothing but disbelief- disbelief that she’s with him at all. That she keeps telling him she loves him. That she keeps promising they’ll defeat the brain and get rid of Orin and Gortash and be able to breathe once it’s all over… together. Sometimes the incredulity of it all still catches him off guard.

“You’re such a big softie, really,” He huffs a laugh, reaching down to pinch one of her cheeks before pressing a terse kiss to the crown of her head.

“And the mistletoe, gods, can’t forget the mistletoe!” She groans, pressing a hand over her eyes as she collapses into the pillows.

“Mistletoe?” He questions. She sighs, spreading her fingers enough so that one eye peeps up at him.

“It’s silly, but you hang it up over a doorway- it’s got these spiky green leaves and cute red berries on it- and if you pass under it with someone else you have to kiss. It’s just the rules,” He smiles, lost amid her explanation though enamored by the wonder in her voice as she speaks. “I've never been kissed under the mistletoe, you know…”

“Hmm, you haven't? Seems we'll have to change that in the future.” She giggles under the kiss he presses to her forehead, careful and full of promise. When he stands he strokes her cheek once more before adjusting the blankets.

“Get some rest, I’ll bring back some soup in a little while.” He whispers, taking her device from her to set back onto the nightstand. She pouts up at him, curiosity in her gaze, and he finishes tucking her in. “I’ll be back, promise,”

Once out in the main room, he finds the rest of his travelling companions speaking in hushed voices around the fireplace, Scratch pacing near Astarion’s feet. The dog quickly ducks in before Astarion gets the door shut, and he smirks knowing Ofelia will at least have some company before he returns to bed. Nearly every morning that mutt’s laying between them or with half his body draped over her legs. She doesn’t seem to mind, and he’s starting to grow accustomed to the beast as well, much to his disdain…

“Vampire- what are we doing about this Christmas?” Lae’zel demands as soon as he’s within a few feet of them. He simpers and sits on a lush ottoman, draping one leg over the other as he accepts a glass of wine from Gale.

“Gods, Lae’zel. We’ve only been travelling together for the last few months, I’d expect you’d have remembered my name by now.” His sly remark is met with the githyanki’s signature Tchk! before Shadowheart grins.

“Now, now, try to get along you two. Your mediator isn’t here,” The half-elf snickers, and Astarion sighs, waving a hand towards the others.

“So, what were you all murmuring about before I came out here? I’m assuming it has something to do with dear Lae’zel’s questioning?” He takes a sip of the wine- an expensive sort that flows easily down his throat- and casts his eyes amongst the others as he watches them exchange nods.

“We want to put it on anyway,” Gale explains, the dark liquor in his glass catching the light of the fire. “She spoke so fondly of it this morning, and to get sick now… it isn’t fair.” Astarion hums, pondering the silence that settles over them once Gale is finished.

He’d been of a similar mind as she’d shown him her pictures- it’d be no easy task to find a tree, especially with them being in the heart of the Gate. Then there was the tinsel he’d seen… they’d perhaps be able to find something like that in the city, the baubles…

“My, my, it’s odd being amongst you all once you actually experience an intelligent thought.” Their murmurs of disbelief and annoyance fuel the smirk that spreads over his lips as he waves a hand “I’ve been snooping through her photos and I’ve got some references we can likely use, though wrestling her away from the damn thing will be a feat in and of itself.” Astarion grumbles around another swig.

“Leave that to me,” Shadowheart assures, clapping her hands together once. “I’ll run her a bath in the morning and make sure she stays in it for a few hours. To ‘leech the toxins’ so to speak. It isn’t as if she’s well versed to our healing methods to know I’m making it up,” Astarion nods, pondering, as the others chime in.

“The tree… we won’t be able to sneak that into the city,” Wyll laments, forefinger stroking over the fine hairs on his face.

“If you were able to secure a sapling, I’m sure I’d be able to encourage it to grow quickly enough.” Halsin adds, earning a nod from the Blade.

“I’ll help with that as well,” Jaheira offers, smile on her softly lined face.

“What about the decorations?” Minthara asks, frowning.

“We’ll figure something out- I’m sure there are plenty of merchants with trinkets and baubles around- Sundries may also have something. We should ask Rolan and his siblings, as well. I seem to remember that Lia had some dolls and things made for the children once they got to the city.” Astarion nods at Gale’s words, contemplating.

“And do not forget gifts for her,” Astarion murmurs crossly, eyes flashing around the room. “At least have the common sense to wrap them first,”

“Course not,” Karlach grins a wide, toothy smile, the likes of which sets his teeth on edge. He'll never let on that it does somewhat please him, however. “We'll get gifts for Ofelia and each other!”

They scatter to their personal rooms or beds, plan worked out in the dim candlelight and hearth as if they’re a secret society. He crawls into bed with his lover, her’s and Scratch’s soft snores filling the room much to his amusement. He checks her temperature, sigh soft on his lips as he rests back against the pillows when he finds it unchanged.

As he lays in bed, his mind spins with the possibilities of all the gifts he could possibly get her- if it were up to him, he’d likely not get one at all. Perhaps steal something.

Images of her adorned with pretty scarlet jewels and glistening pearls flood his vision, though something about jewelry feels almost cold and distant- too obvious a choice. Or possibly even too meaningful, something he isn’t ready for…

No… despite her expect-nothing nature, he’d like to at least try to make this sentimental and meaningful. It could be their last celebration, after all, and gods does he care for her too much not to indulge this simple, saccharine wish. He’ll need to put in the effort- just as she puts in the effort to make him feel cared for each day. He wouldn’t be where he is now without her… without her kindness. It’s a blessing he tries not to take for granted, though he does slip up from time to time. He cannot make that mistake now.

He rises from the bed, trancing left for later, as he pulls some items out of his pack and retrieves a tool kit from the main stock supplies. He’s not sure if he’ll be any good at this, but he doesn’t trust someone else to do the job.

***

“I feel better this morning, I swear…” Ofelia grumbles as Astarion kisses her awake. For the umpteenth time, she thanks the gods that he can’t catch her cold. It’s nice to indulge in a tender kiss first thing, though she’s sure she looks positively awful. Pale skin, scarlet cheeks, sweaty and clammy. She huffs a laugh and pushes him away, making to sit up and use the restroom, but her vision tilts and she stays seated, clutching her head.

“You feel better, hmm?” He trills softly, last syllable enunciated with a haughty laugh. Smug bastard.

“I swear, if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re actually enjoying this.” He stands above her, back of his hand pressing against her forehead, and she lets out a soft moan at the relief. The heat behind her eyelids slowly recedes beneath his touch, and she clutches his hand to hold it still as he hums quietly.

“Well, you do push yourself far too much, darling. Though your pain is something I do not take pleasure in, under these circumstances at least,” She rolls her eyes at the smirk over his lips, longing curling low in her belly in spite of the state of her body.

“Yeah well, you and me both.” She sighs, kissing the back of his hand, and he stoops down to place one of his over her forehead.

“I have some errands to run with Gale of all people- Shadowheart volunteered to stay with you, said she would like to try some kind of healing bath? Silly in my opinion, but who am I to question a cleric’s healing skills?” She groans, lying back on the mattress to stare at the ceiling. She’d really wanted to see if she could convince them to let her go out and find decorations, at least put them up… but it’s not looking probable. That and she’d lied about feeling better to worm her way out of staying in today.

“Ughhhhh,” Her long drawn out groan pulls a light chuckle from the elf and she reaches up to pull him down, knee between her thighs on the spare bit of mattress available, hands at either side of her head. She wraps her arms around his torso and clings to him, trying to absorb as much of him as possible before he leaves for the day.

“I’ll be back later, just relax and enjoy your bath. Maybe there'll be a reward in it for you,” She sighs into his neck, pressing a hot kiss to his skin fueled by the promise of his words, and she smiles when his muscles stiffen. “Patience, dear,” He murmurs as he pulls away and she squeezes him one last time before letting go. There’s a knock at their door and Shadowheart appears, arms laden with towels and supplies. Ofelia smiles forlornly at her, her own far too empty in Astarion’s absence.

She doesn’t notice as she’s ushered into the washroom Astarion’s quick swipe of her phone off the nightstand, or his soft smile in her direction. She doesn’t see that smile widen into a pleased grin as his fingers snake around the gift in his pocket, clutching it with a light squeeze.

***

“Do you think she’ll like it in the morning?” Gale asks Astarion softly, the fruits of their labor casting the main room in a festive glow. Somehow, he’d been able to obtain a lighting spell scroll- something Rolan had insisted upon them not paying for once he’d heard it was for Ofelia’s benefit. Astarion had rolled his eyes- that tiefling wizard ever hopelessly infatuated despite Ofelia’s vehement denial- and they’d stopped for some books as Gale’s gift to her before Astarion had found something for the man as well. His eyes also caught on a crystal carved into the shape of a crescent moon for Shadowheart, and upon realizing his gaze was tracking items for his companions, promptly huffed in annoyance. He’d grabbed the item anyway.

“I think a twig in the corner with lights on it would send her into a fit, but this is much better.” Astarion sighs, thanking the help from the Midwinter celebrations going on around the city for the garlands of pine and the berries that now hang in the frame of every doorway. It’s not as gaudy or brightly colored as the decorations in her apartment from the photos he’d shown them all this morning, but it’ll do. Even he’s feeling a bit of wonder gazing at the lovely spruce the two druids in their group had spent nurturing, as well as cladding in brightly colored glass sphere’s Karlach procured from a friend she’d known before she’d been cast into Avernus.

Presents wrapped in paper of varying colors sit beneath the full branches, a blanket protecting them from the cold floor as Scratch paws restlessly at a long, stick shaped present wrapped in blue paper with his name penned gracefully across its front. Astarion smirks- she’ll get a kick out of that one.

“Great job, Fangs. I almost forget you don’t have a functioning heart sometimes.” Karlach’s teary voice scrapes against his nerves and he sneers, shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t go spreading that around,” They poke fun at him some more, and thankfully he’s saved by Minthara’s short temper as she demands they all get to bed. It’s almost midnight and she’s not missing a stop from the old geezer- much to his amusement. He just barely manages to duck into his room before they dissolve into a debate about whether or not she’d paid attention to Ofelia’s story, shutting it with a soft click as he stalks over to the bed, shedding clothes on the way.

He hears even breathing- her airways finally starting to clear- and just as he slips beneath the sheets he nearly yelps.

“Hiding from me all day- what, I’m sick and you’re out there looking for a replacement after I wither away?” Her tone is playful and he smirks, admiring the color returning to her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes beneath the light of the full moon. Beneath him.

“Hmm, yes, I was shopping for a new lover today. Pity they all didn’t seem to match your prowess at being irritating. And none of them had these- seems I’m doomed to solitude.” His hands cup her breasts, separated from him by the thin layer of her cotton shirt, and she rolls her eyes and pouts.

“All you’d miss are my tits and my attitude. Rude,” A smile at the corner of her lips betrays her and he grins, fangy and wide, before claiming that smile with a kiss. “Missed you…” She hums, arms winding around his waist, and he matches the sound with sincerity, finding that his day while busy was severely lacking her presence. A travesty, indeed.

“Your fever’s gone,” He mumbles, enjoying the taste of her mouth and the way her hips slightly buck into his own, the hands still firmly anchored to her chest kneading softly. She sighs, baring her throat, and it’s all he can do to not sink his teeth in. Just a bit more recovery, and he’ll indulge in her blood again. He’s holding over with animals in the meantime.

“Mmm, whatever was in that bath made me feel a lot better. And whatever the hell concoction Jaheira made me drink earlier, too- tasted awful but I think it helped.” Her eyes find him and he brushes the hair from her face, slowly sinking onto his side and off of her.

“Good, perhaps we can get back on schedule tomorrow since you’ll be done lazing about.” She scowls and smacks his arm away before yanking the sheets up beneath her chin.

“And I was going to offer you my mouth- jerk.”

“I’ll still take it.”

“Haha. Goodnight.” He smirks and presses a kiss to her lips before lying back, eyes tracking over the beams on the ceiling as she snuggles up close and rests her head over his bicep.

“Goodnight, love.” He whispers, heart tethered to the small gift he intends to give her tomorrow, hope brimming at the fringes of his mind as he pictures her opening it.

***

“Astarion! It’s snowing look, look, wake up!” He does with a start as her hands shake his shoulders, startled out of the trance and back into the real world. For once, his reverie was clouded in visions of her and not nightmarish memories, and as he opens his eyes he yawns.

“It’s been snowing the last couple of days,” He murmurs, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he rises and lets her drag him to the window.

“Yeah, but this one’s stuck,” Her grin is nearly contagious and he fights back the compulsion to instead press his cold nose to the back of her neck as he pulls her into his arms, hands resting over her belly.

“It’s cold, white, a pain to deal with… I’m not sure what you’re so excited about.” He mouths lazily at her pulse point, delighted as her heart beat speeds up, and she laughs.

“You realize you’ve just described yourself, right?” His lips idle over her skin and with an annoyed sigh he bites enough to leave the impression of his teeth but not pierce, earning a satisfying gasp of surprise from her.

“Get dressed, I think you can leave quarantine for breakfast, today,” He knows the plan- pretends that the routine is back to normal. She slips from his arms and goes to her pile of clothing- gods, is she messy- and pulls out some comfortable pants and flashes him a look.

“Get out, I’m going to change.” She demands and he scoffs.

“I’ve seen you naked more times than I can remember, why can’t I stay?” He plays the part of mock dissatisfaction, though he’s silently pleased. It’ll give him an opportunity to check and make sure the dullards outside are ready.

“Just- out!” He huffs, pulling on a pair of pants before making for the door. His tadpole seeks Gale’s, and upon confirming that they’re aware it’s just Astarion exiting the room, he slips out and closes the door behind him.

“She almost ready?” Wyll whispers, tweaking some of the garlands over the mantle as Lae’zel places little rocks in each sock. She’d been far too amused at the prospect of coal for naughty behavior, and had been adamant that none of them deserved candy and would all get a piece each to keep them in perspective. He has to admit, it is a little amusing.

“Getting dressed- should be any moment-” Just as the word leaves his mouth, the door behind him opens and he steps to the side with his heart in his throat.

She’s completely silent, hair brushed into soft waves laying down her back, proper attire donning her body save for the slippers on her feet, and they all hold their breath as her gaze sweeps over the room.

“Hu-huh…?” She mumbles, breath catching, and he watches intently as moisture begins to bead in the corners of her eyes. They all exchange glances, frozen in anticipation, before her hands cover her mouth and she starts to sob. “You guys? Are you serious?”

“Merry Christmas!” Most of them chant- Astarion forgets, Minthara’s nose is buried in a fragrant chardonnay but she tilts the glass in acknowledgement- and they all rush her before he has a chance to dodge them. He’s swept up in Karlach’s large wingspan as she tucks them together and squeezes until white blotches dot his vision, yet the delight from Ofelia keeps him from complaining too loudly about it. Mostly.

She turns to him between embraces, eyes round and soft, and his chest goes tight as he offers her a smile reserved for no other but her. It’s sweet when she returns it- steals the breath he doesn’t need from his lungs, and when she goes to pull him in she clings to him and whispers little reverent ‘I love you’s into his ear as if he’d hung the moon itself. Pride and affection blooms within, and he presses kisses to the side of her head where the others can’t see, though he wouldn’t mind if they did. He’s long past the notion of hiding his feelings for her. From himself or otherwise.

They push her into the best seat- one the others usually fight over- and Karlach excitedly pulls gifts from the pile to start passing around. Astarion’s gift to her is tucked behind the tree and hidden- saving the best for last. Hopefully. No, he’s confident.

Ofelia laughs at the coal in the sock, munches on fudge from the bakery near the entrance to the upper city, enjoys the books Gale’s gifted her and the plush dog that Lia had sewn and stuffed. She remarks about the lights, face brighter than he’s ever seen it, and forces Minthara into a tight hug and kiss on her plum cheeks as Ofelia clutches the necklace adorned with a single ruby charm and spider etched into its stone. The drow protests and growls in annoyance, but it’s all really just for show. Once turned away, she smiles into her cup and quickly clears her throat afterward.

They all offer her small trinkets or treats, and he’s content to just sit and watch, but he’s swept up by the spirit of it all as he opens small packages with his name on it. A silver pocket watch from Shadowheart, a silken kerchief from Wyll, a new scabbard for his dagger in dark leather from Lae’zel. He’d not expected anything, even vehemently enunciated that this is for her, not him, but despite his claims it seems no one listened to him. What else is new?

“That’s it!” Karlach proclaims from beside the tree, tossing candy and pastries in her mouth by the fistful as the others sip on warm beverages or partake in alcohol around the heat of the fire. His eyes go to the frosted window, the entire city covered in a blanket of white. He decides, for the first time, that it looks much better this way.

“You didn’t get anything for Ofelia?” Gale asks, and Astarion’s hackles raise as he feels the ire rise and claim the atmosphere.

“I saved the best for last,” He stands with a flourish, calming the mood before his head ends up on a pike. “Besides, who went to all this trouble?”

“Don’t take all the credit!” Shadowheart snaps and he smiles as he turns his back to them, going behind the tree to pluck his gift from beneath an alcove in the wall. His eyes linger over shiny red paper- this, at least, he'd stolen. For a moment, he hesitates. His fingers wrap around it, her name glaring back, and he wonders if this will be good enough. He'd seen everyone's carefully thought out gifts, hells, had even managed to hit the nail on its head a few times for the others. But Ofelia? She's the one he needs to get right. Above all else, he can't fail.

He steels himself and turns, each step towards her smiling face making him question the object in his outstretched hand, and when she takes it he stands stiff and still- making no move to breathe or blink or talk. She gingerly unwraps it at the seams, her pulse racing in his ears as she continues to pry back the paper, and he watches her stop as a soft breath vacates her lungs.

“Star…” It feels as if a century passes before his eyes when she finally speaks, pulling the dagger from the paper to hold up and admire. The metal flashes, light glancing off the engraving near the hilt- one she speaks in hushed tones as if in prayer.

“Nin anor,” Her lips shape around the elegant script as if she's painting it in the air, and once it's hanging around them he knows it's right. Knows it's right in the way she looks at him, in the way the sun, through a break in the clouds, casts a golden glow around her. It breaks on her skin and sinks in, frames her like it did that day in the sand, that day he'd first tasted freedom. The first day he'd met her and had heard her heart quicken beneath the sharp edge of his blade- the blade she now cradles in her hands.

Purpose, like a compulsion, stole his mind the moment chisel met steel. Illuminated by candles, he'd carved in elvish the words he's said to her over and over, again and again. Against her lips as he makes love to her, into the crown of her head as he pulls her into an embrace. Softly, against her forearm as she returned to herself enough to let go of his neck and fight the urge…

“My sun…” He breathes back, and she's out of the chair faster than he can blink. With a laugh that's no more than a huff, he wraps his arms around her and squeezes back, smiles as she laughs and sniffles and sighs.

“I love you,” It's quiet against his ear, and a barely perceptible shiver trembles through his limbs in reply. He'd been worried for nothing, and that's cemented further when she pulls back and the grin on her face renders him speechless.

“A knife? You got her a knife?” Karlach asks, bewildered, and the tension in his limbs falls away when Ofelia looks at him and laughs. This time, he doesn't fight the impulse to join her and it's freeing and juvenile, but worth the joy it brings.

***

“It's the one he threatened me with when we first met,” Ofelia smiles as she finishes off her plate of roast meats, fresh greens and potatoes. She pushes it towards the center of the table, leaning back in the chair as she admires the way the fire looks as it dances in his crimson eyes. He's beautiful, and her heart slams into her ribs like it's trying to break free- that look he gives her never failing to stir an ache in her chest that feels like it consumes just as much as it grows.

“Hmmm… and how is that romantic?” Gale asks around the cookie in his mouth. Ofelia chuckles at his muffled words, about to speak when Minthara beats her to it.

“Is it not provocative to feel the sting of your lover's blade against your skin? The dance between pleasure and pain, the testament of your trust in them not to supply too much pressure lest they end your life?” Gale swallows thickly, stiffening when the drow places her hand on his arm. “If you do not understand, I will show you tonight, wizard.”

Their group laughs, partaking in drinks that almost remind Ofelia of home. Something that tastes like hot chocolate fills her belly as Astarion holds her close, swaying softly to the music that pours from Ofelia's speaker- an old favorite.

“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” She murmurs against his shoulder, echoing the melody as he squeezes her hips.

“You liked your gift?” His voice is quiet- almost shy. Her arms circle him tighter, letting him guide her through the room as their companions slowly start to filter off to bed. The entire day had been like a dream- a perfect, beautiful reprieve from pain or worry. Something rare and sweet- sorely missed in the years since and filling the empty hole in her heart with so much that it almost hurts to contain. Family. Love.

“I'll cherish it forever, Star,” She smiles, pulling away to stroke her fingers over his cheek. It's cool beneath them, and his smile is relaxed as it spreads over his face. She bumps the door frame to their room with a soft laugh and his gaze lifts up above her head, causing her to redirect hers and stop almost disbelievingly over green leaves and white berries.

“There weren't any red,” He hums softly, but her throat is dry and her ears are filled with cotton when she looks back at him. Moonlight turns his hair to silver and his skin to marble, and as she looks at him and watches him lean closer, she's not sure if she'll ever deserve the affection he now presses to her lips.

Hands tangle in her long hair, chest to chest, the taste of wine on his tongue- her stomach clenches in fear of the future, of losing it all, of making a mistake or failing to free them from the brain. All of it looms like a dark cloud, trying to swallow her whole, but then he's pushing them into the room, shutting their door and latching it. He's driving her back, legs folding until she's forced to collapse onto the mattress, heat pooling in her belly low and needy when he goes to push her sweater up over her head.

“I feel bad I didn't get anyone else a gift,” She whispers and he snorts, discarding his shirt onto the floor as he starts to untie the shirt barring him from further access.

“Anyone else? What did you get me?” She laughs when he stops, frozen at the sight beneath her clothes.

“I got these a few days ago… was going to at least do this since I couldn't get presents or decorate.” His irises narrow into thin lines between the enlarging of his pupils, gaze dragging down her form as he tugs her pants down and off. Ribbons and lace, scarlet and black, cradle her breasts and expose the underside of them while big red bows conceal her nipples. Her underwear leaves nothing to the imagination, either, and his lips part around a raw hum of appreciation when he discovers with his eyes the way the fabric conveniently vanishes beneath the waistband.

“Gods…” It's brittle and needy and she smiles wickedly when his clothes fall to the floor.

“Unwrap me?” She whispers.

“Yes,” He breathes.

She laughs as his fingers find give on the bows and he pulls them apart, mouth chasing his touch as he pushes her thighs back and sinks inside. She sobs his name as he sets a feverish pace, mind nothing but foggy desire and heady affection. Affection for him, for this, for them. She clings to him like her life depends on it, canting her hips in time with his, every sensation as intense and lovely like she's experiencing it for the first time.

She leans in and kisses his ear, revels in the shivers that shake through his body when she tightens her grip. They're teetering over the edge, now- drawing to a close. But even so, she knows it won't be the end. Not when she's right where she's supposed to be.

Like the phantoms of quivering tree limbs, the warmth of the sand beneath her body, the flash of a blade while rubies danced in her vision she feels him. Feels him in every pore, every beat of her heart as he meets her eyes and opens his mouth to speak. Soft and full of promises they never knew were made that day on the beach.

“Nin anor,”

[twomanyfandomshelp]

Thanks for the tag!

Last Song: Would You Fall In Love With Me Again from Epic the Ithaca Saga (AHHHHH OH MY GOD THE ITHACA SAGA IS SO GOOD I LOVE IT SO MUCH I CRIED SO MUCH DURING THE LISTENING PARTY BUT THAT’S BESIDES THE POINT JORGE IS A GENUIS AND I’M SO HAPPY WE GOT TO HEAR THE END BUT SO SAD IT’S OVER BUT I KNOW THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING)

Sorry about that

Favorite Color: Pink 🩷

Last Book: No One Can Know I Don’t Like Sex: An Aromantic-Asexual Humor Comic by AKHTS (aka @/bloggingboutburgers)

Last Movie: Red One

Last TV Show: Pop Culture Jeopardy (didn’t know that was a thing until the other night, pretty fun, me and my family are definitely better at it than regular Jeopardy)

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Sweet

Relationship Status: In a Queer Platonic Relationship

Last Thing I Googled: Who is the richest man in the world (it says Jeff Bezos, but then when you google how much he makes it’s like 200 billion something and then Elon Musk makes like 400 billion so I think my Siri is just wrong)

Current Obsession: Epic the Musical, Wildlife SMP, and Impossible Minecraft SMP

Looking Forward To: Going to Florida to see my family for the week after Christmas (the 27th to the 31st) and getting to see my partner on Friday before my family leaves for Florida!

@sushis-mylifeee @ivys-garden @thekingofworems @the-stars-are-ineffable @kingofdandelions @sushi1056 @nyx-of-darkness-1620 @aaronofithaca05 @theghostnamedspecter @rubbercrowy @imobsessedwiththeatre @donutsalami @azoperoa @theylovewinnie @rosegoldenatlas @chaoticrei @moutainrusing @cherrytea556 @harley-the-pancake @thatstevenuniversegay @forest-city @chaotic-agender @alphabetical-az @janru-writer @fallenrain40 @shamelesswolfstarshipper @jarondont @magicalmyths @a-fucking-tornado @poppitron360 @neilarissa @theoneandonlypatches @theconfusedbookshrimp @shellywith2ls @yourlocalbadgerscales @g0blinm0d3 @stargazing-with-friends @nyx-taylors-version @lezberrycake @codexnuminous @little-goblin-in-the-forest @whimsicalwordsmith53 @spiderboi-parker @nyyx-xoxx @scarletbeast + anyone else who wants to join in!

people i'd like to know better tag game!

tagged by @endof-vanity thank uuu ^-^

last song: ... everybody wants to rule the world by tears for fears

favourite colour: green!!!! :DD

last book: last book i properly finished was the name of the rose by umberto eco :'] i have my fingers in too many others

last movie: megalopolis! it was shit <3

last tv show: nbc's hannibal in 2021 LMAO but i am watching amc's the terror. or trying to

sweet/spicy/savoury: savoury!! i would say spice if i was better at it </3

relationship status: single >.<

last thing i googled: 50bc attalus. lol. and a directory for a mall at the same time

current obsession: m...my catie,,,, self explanatory i don't have to justify myself. also monks. reading a monklove book,,,

looking forward to: going out with my friends this sunday! maybe going overseas next june! yippee :3

tagging: @quia-nominor--leo @enlitment @monksexualizer @xxmarvelouslifexx @courtjester69420 if you'd like to doooo itttt <3

[bearprofessorr]

a second chance.

sometimes getting stood up is the only way to find what you really needed.

ship: declan o'hara/fem!reader. tags/warnings: drinking, making out, no y/n. word count: 3.8k.

(crossposted on ao3)

---

The night was young, and you had plans. A date. One of the boys that helped out with the Cotswolds Round-up plucked up the courage to ask you out after a few weeks of idle chatter in the breakroom. You dressed up for the occasion - even if it was only for a drink at the one proper pub in the area. It wasn't often you would be asked out; normally you would be making the first move, hoping that it was reciprocated. Not tonight. 

You arrived slightly before you planned to meet him, wanting a drink to steady your nerves as the clock got closer to 8. you finished your first drink - a simple vodka coke - and looked back at the clock, now reading 8:15. Panic rose in your throat, but you kept it down by ordering another drink. Thankfully, there was a TV behind the bar that you could watch to pass the time, distract yourself and try and convince the other patrons of the pub that you were really enthused by... golf. 

The night continued to pass, and the golf blurred as you stared at the screen instead of watching it. The clock hit 8:45 and you had to swallow the pain of being stood up. You looked around the pub, seeing if anyone was looking at you - no one spared you a glance. There were faces you recognised, some from Corinium's other departments, but none that you spoke to at all; Until you looked down the bar, in a dim corner, noticing Corinium's prized jewel; Declan O' Hara, slowly nursing a glass of whiskey with his eyes just as glazed over as yours were, staring at the TV. Rumours had been circulating around the offices of Declan's wife being scouted for work in London after prized director Malhar Verma was spotted at the O'Hara's New Year's party. Although you knew nothing of Maud personally, she had been in some of your favourite films as a kid, and you were sure her return to the acting world would be well-received. However, from the looks of things, Declan wasn't taking the rumours too well, and from where you were sitting, it was unclear to you whether Declan was even sporting his wedding band. It wasn't as if you could go over and strike up a conversation, though. You had spoken to Declan in passing, mostly because your team helped Cameron with research and analytics - taking the analysis of audience retention and opinions off of her plate so she can do what she's best at. 

Whether he noticed you looking at him was another uncertainty - but you noticed his head move out of the corner of your eye, and you decided to act very interested in the golf again. When he stood up, you took no real notice, until he walked up next to you, got the bartender's attention and ordered another glass of whiskey. 

"Did Tony send you?" He leant his forearms on the bar, looking you over for anything he deemed suspicious behaviour, "'Cause if he did, tell him to fuck off, will you?"

"What?" You asked, more confused than defensive. 

"You work at Corinium, do you not?" Declan mirrored your expression, eyebrows furrowed as he waited for you to respond.

"Yeah, but I'm no spy - promise." You put your hands up in defence, giving Declan a weak smile and a shrug to try and calm his nerves. The bartender came over with Declan's drink before he could speak, so he quickly thanked him and took a long sip before continuing.

"So you just come to the pub - all dolled up and alone, for fun?" 

"I wasn't supposed to be. I got stood up."

"Oh. Sorry..." He awkwardly patted your shoulder, in some kind of apology - or sympathy. 

"Don't be. It was my mistake to assume he was being genuine."

"Men are cunts, take it from me - don't waste your time on them." His mind immediately darted to Rupert Campbell-Black, and his attempts to court his daughter. A small part of him looked at you, noticing you and Taggie appeared similar in age and he chastised himself for the thought. He went to say your name, but realised very visibly that he couldn't recall it, even though he recognised you. You noticed this and held out your hand, introducing yourself like you were taught to.

"I work with Cameron on research." You smiled, appreciating his gentle grip as Declan took you hand in his to shake it, placing his other hand on top to solidify the gesture. "We've actually been in the same meetings for the last month."

"Ah, that explains why I've seen you around - wait, are you-"

"Brainiac, yeah. Tony called me that once - probably not in the nicest way - and it just... stuck." You rolled your eyes at the memory, sighing, detaching your hands to run your fingers through your hair, "But I would prefer for that to stay at work. Obviously."

"Obviously," He parroted, "Of course." He noticed he hadn't reciprocated the greeting, and hated the fact he assumed people knew who he was, "I'm Declan."

"I know that." Declan winced ever so slightly at your response. You smiled without thinking, for the first time that night, "You're the golden goose of the network; and working with Cameron, I do research for your show. I think if I didn't know who you were through all that I'd be kicked to the street."

"Right." Declan chuckled, looking defeated as the conversation fell into a lull. "If you don't mind me asking," He presented the question, his journalistic instincts kicking in, "Who was it you were supposed to be meeting here?"

"Sebastian." The name rang a bell, with Declan recognising him for around the offices, mostly tailing Cameron wherever she went. Before he could make a comment, you spoke back up, "He... well- he said we would meet here and go for dinner, but that clearly isn't happening. I'd rather not dwell on it, if that's alright." You gave a flat smile, taking a long breath to stop the anxieties from crawling back into your mind. "I should have been realistic, he's... he's him, and I'm-"

"Don't sell yourself short. You're a beautiful woman, and it's a pity for him he hadn't recognised that." Declan cut you off, a stern look on his face. He took a moment to truly look at you then, in a way he hadn't dedicated the time to before - what self-respecting married man would spend his time gazing at the women he worked with? 

As much as you would have wanted to believe him, wrap yourself in his kind words, you simply couldn't. What did it matter if you were beautiful if no one was around to treat you as if you were? Actions and words meant very different things - both needed to be true if you wanted to believe it. This came across clearly on your face as you turned away to stare into your glass, both hands interlocked around it on the bar. 

"Thank you, but that doesn't change anything." You sighed, draining the last of your drink into your mouth, pulling your bag onto your shoulder, "I'm sure you didn't come here to comfort my bruised ego - I'll get out of your way so you can actually enjoy your night."

"And what enjoyment do you think I came here for?"

"I don't know," You shrugged, scanning the room before looking back at the TV, "Maybe you just wanted to watch the golf."

He laughed at that, raising his eyebrows in disbelief, leaning his back against the bar as you stepped away from it, "Really?"

"Look, what else am I supposed to say?" You looked down at his hand around his whiskey glass, noticing he was still wearing his ring, but the words came out of your mouth before you could hold them back, "That you've come here to drown out your troubles? I'm not like you, Declan, I don't pry."

He noticed your eyes dip from his, and a part of him wanted to hear you say his name again, in that perfect accent of yours. It was that same part of him that he kept locked away for fear of turning into the men he criticised. The small glint in his eye at that quickly disappeared, not without you noticing. "Maybe you should. You'd learn a lot about a person that way."

"You look like you're dying to tell me why you're actually here," You stood your ground, relaxing your posture, "so, go ahead."

"I wouldn't say dying to, but if you insist-" Declan teased, shrugging while he gestured with his glass for you to sit back down, but when you didn't, he nodded to acknowledge your lack of action and continued, "I came here to avoid Taggie sitting me down and trying to stop me from falling into 'old habits'." He exaggerated with the curl of his fingers. 

"Old habits like the one in your hand?"

"Bingo."

"Maybe you should listen to your daughter, Declan."

"Maybe you should mind your own business, darling." He mocked, enjoying the anger that immediately rose to your face, only to be concealed - except the lingering red around your ears.

"You're the one who-" You scoffed, noticing the smile playing on Declan's face and taking an audible breath, turning on your heel, "Forget it. Enjoy your habits, just try not to leave when the bar closes - makes you look like you have a problem."

"It's only a problem if I leave alone." Declan called out to you, and he watched as you stopped mid-step and placed your foot down delicately.

You paused, still facing the door, hands tensing as you considered your options. There were two ways this could go, if you stayed - and misread his signals, you go home disappointed. If you're right about the undertone of his words, and you stay, you can forget Sebastian and enjoy some good company - maybe more.  Already having been disappointed by one man tonight, the only way that has the potential to change is if you stay. 

"Is that so?" You turned, your head tilting to emphasise the playful nature of your question. "In my mind that would just be two people fuelling each other's addictions, but if you'd prefer I stay to make sure you get home in one piece-"

"I can take care of myself, you wouldn't need to carry me home." He paused, "If anything, the opposite's more likely."

"I think you underestimate how many people I've drunk under the table who've thought they can hold a light to my drinking prowess." You were bluffing - you'd only competed against one person, who was already pissed and was half-way to the bathroom after the first drink. 

"And you're the one saying I've got a habit? Looks like you've been practicing yourself."

"Only on weekends." You joked, and by the look on his face, it was clear Declan understood you were playing up your tolerance, and made space for you at the bar as you stepped closer.

"Right." He chuckled, "It's not for sport, then?"

"You could say it's more a hobby." You smiled, taking your seat facing Declan, while leaning an arm on the bar. "There's not much else to do out here."

"It's fair to indulge every so often." He gestured with his glass to the bartender for another round, taking the last sips from it, "Less destructive than hunting."

You rolled your eyes, the reminders of your summer job at a range leaving a sour taste in your mouth that was quickly replaced with a drink. "It's a hobby for assholes with delusions of grandeur, as far as my interactions with them have gone."

"So, the whole of Cotchester?" Declan raised an eyebrow, eyes following yours.

"Unfortunately so." 

"I'm certain you've heard everything there is to know, then?"

"Not that isn't already common knowledge."

"You'd be surprised - like how we all 'know' about Cameron and Tony-" The commonplace gossip slipped from Declan's mouth before he could think, but since it was only to another Corinium member, he realised it was safe to speculate. When you cut him off to fill the rest of his sentence, he breathed out a small sigh of relief.

"But his wife's none the wiser, yes I'm aware. I don't have the protections you do to go around telling everyone's business to any ears that'll listen." You shook your head, relaxing it to rest on your hand, propped up on the bar.

"Now, what's that supposed to mean?"

"You're Declan O' Hara. Your whole schtick is digging up people's pasts, making a living off of the skeletons in their closets." You accused with a flourish, taking a long sip from your glass.

"Not always."

"But you have, right? Like with Rupert - you didn't say what it was but I know for a fact you had something catastrophic." There was a sparkle in your eye at that, the thrill of the chase, Declan knew that tone - he used it himself when he knew he had someone pinned. Backed into a corner, ready to strike. "You reached for something. I saw. Twice during that interview when you were readying yourself for the question, you reached," You reached across, poking the side of his chest. "Right there, for your blazer pocket."

"I was bluffing - to throw him off, and it worked like a charm." Declan brushed your hand away, lightly closing his hand over yours. Your heart fluttered at the contact, "Now, if I did have something on Rupert, as soon as I made the choice not to say it on air, that information never really existed."

"Because of your daughter?"

The question caused him to pause, the words hanging in the air. 

"What?" He tried to regain his balance, his gut tossing itself to the side. Thankfully, you didn't notice, and kept talking to fill the silence. 

"I overheard people talking about her bursting into the building to track him down during the break - did she know?" You interrupted yourself, "Was that what you were going to expose him for?"

Declan shook his head, trying his best to mask the disdain he felt for Rupert's advances on Taggie, "No, there wasn't anything to expose. Rupert's life has been incredibly public, everything I said was already out there, public knowledge."

"Tony and Cameron public or actually public?"

"Front page of 'The Times' public."

"Hmm." You didn't look fully convinced, but dropped the subject simply because of the look Declan was giving you - stern, final. "You two seem... friendly."

"We are." Declan agreed, adding with a knowing smile, "He's better than people assume he is - once he comes back down to earth." 

You chuckled at that, knowing the stories that filtered through the area of his specific brand of ego. The alcohol had fully seeped into your bloodstream now, if the dull pulse of your heartbeat in the back of your head was anything to go by. The lights seemed to shine a little brighter, haloing Declan in a warm glow. You didn't say anything, didn't feel the need to. You simply stared, observing how in the silence, Declan turned to face ahead of him, leaving you with the side profile of his face. He was tired, that much was evident - the light beginnings of unshaved stubble rising on his cheeks, a similar shade to the bags under his eyes, half-hooded eyes that threatened to close without forceful blinks every so often. It was only once you hand made contact with the side of his face that you realised it had moved to brush against his cheek, a slow, soft movement with the backs of your fingers. Declan moved his eyes before his head, an equally soft look and light glisten of water in them as they noticed the touch. 

Your eyes widened, your hand froze, you took in a short breath and held it tight in your chest. As soon as your hand twitched to move back, his rushed to hold it, trying to form the sentences in his mind to express what had made his heart stutter. All that came out of his mouth, like a plea, was the simple question;

"Can I kiss you?" 

You barely had time to process your head nodding, your instincts answering for you, before his lips met with yours for the first time. The first thing you noticed was how he tasted, of whiskey and cigarettes, combining with the scents of cedarwood - it was addicting to say the least. He pulled back, Declan's hand lingering on your cheek. Your eyes looked into his to try and find any hint of hesitation, of regret, and found none.

It was the light jeering of a table off in the corner that took you both out of the moment, made you duck to hide your blushing face from the other patrons of the bar. 

"Don't listen to them," Declan used the hand on your cheek to guide your face to look back at him, "They're only playing around."

"It's hard not to, not when I can feel them looking at me-" You cut yourself off, draining the rest of your glass. It was almost abrupt, the way you stood, grabbing your bag. Declan put a hand on your arm, trying to slow you down, and you answered his question with your own before he was able to ask it, "Are you coming or not?"

It took a moment for his mind to catch up, but as soon as he met your eyeline again, saw the light reflect in them, he nodded and slid his hand down your arm to lace your fingers together - the bar had his card on file, they would charge what they wanted. Frankly, he couldn't give a shit about how much he had spent, all he wanted was to follow you wherever you decided to go. That was good enough for you, and the pair of you left the bar to light cheers from the same table as before. As soon as you were outside, as soon as Declan knew there were no more eyes on you but his, he pulled you closer, feeling the goosebumps from the chilled air on your skin.

Declan's eyes were focused on your lips, physically restraining himself from devouring you there. You took the initiative in a rare moment of confidence, hovering over his lips before pressing them together, breaking apart for a moment only to return open-mouthed, deepening the kiss; His hands rushed to pull you closer, tangling into your hair and around your waist, fabric bunching under his grip. You pulled away, the chill of the night forcing you out of the moment. Declan chased your lips with his, instead electing to brush their noses together before pressing his forehead to yours. "What's wrong, darling?"

You smiled at that, had to stop yourself from breaking down into a puddle of laughter at how soft the situation had turned, "I- We might freeze to death out here if every ten paces you stop and-" You dodged his lips again, turning your head so they pressed against your cheek, still giggling all the while "-God, if you don't let us actually get to where we're going, I'll never forgive you."

It was almost childlike, how Declan pleaded with you, how his round brown eyes tracked yours, "I'll keep you warm, sweetheart, I swear."

"Declan-"

"No-" He interrupted, running his hands down your arms, interlocking your fingers once he reached your hands.

"As much as I would love to take your word for it, I can't feel my hands right now."

"They're fucking freezing." Declan commented, pressing both of your hands together so he could cup his around them in some attempt to warm them up. 

And at that moment, the bright lights from the unfortunate turn of a car into the driveway of the pub caught you both off guard, and something in your gut felt the need to make significant distance between you and Declan. Luckily so, since as the car pulled up, Declan recognised it and winced, knowing what was going to happen already. Not Taggie, but Rupert stepped out of the family's car first, with his daughter in the passenger's seat. 

"Fuck."

"Declan! Man of the hour, thought I'd find you rotting away here!" Rupert cheerily leant on the bonnet of the car, a shit-eating grin on his face as he crossed his arms. "Look, I'm not one to judge what a man does with his time but-"

"Fuck off Rupert." Declan rolled his eyes, pulling his blazer across himself. You were glad you hadn't been noticed, and tried to just start walking home when Rupert lifted himself off the car and walked with a brisk pace to step in front of you.

"Not so fast, sweetheart." He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, not quite meeting your eye, "I know the last thing you want to do is talk, but I'm not about to stand here and let you walk home by yourself."

He turned around to look back at the car, watching how Taggie had stepped out and was standing face-to-face with her dad, chastising him for staying out so late. Declan looked over for a moment, offered a small wave to you and Rupert and resigned himself to the justified beratement from his daughter - he knew in the bottom of his heart that she was right, but drinking was the easy way out and they both knew that. 

Taggie carted him into the front seat of the passenger's side, and beckoned Rupert over with a stern but tired look on her face. Rupert patted you on the shoulder, leaving you with a small, "Just one second, alright?" before jogging over to Taggie. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but with the vague gestures that Rupert made to you and the glances you caught from Taggie, you assumed they were talking about you. It made you want to dissolve, but that was the risk you took. And, at the end of the day, you were glad of the rest of the night you had, even if it ended prematurely.

Rupert, ever the gentleman, walked you the 30 minutes home, in relative silence. He broke it only to ask your name and if you were alright, both questions that you answered with the least information required. 

After a particularly awkward walk, you got to your door, and as you fumbled with your keys, you paused, took a breath and turned to face Rupert. "Look, I don't want this to become a whole ordeal-"

"Don't worry, I won't tell a soul." Rupert smiled, and it looked more genuine than the ones he flashed on Declan's show, "Your secret is safe with me." He reassured, nodding goodnight as you disappeared into your house to sneak into bed, alone.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Our Christmas | Christmas Special 2024

PAIRING || Fiancé! Tony Stark x Fiancée! Female! Reader

WORDCOUNT || 7.6K

SUMMARY || You've been working on preparing the best Christmas celebration you have ever had with the Avengers and other loved ones, and tonight is the night that all your hard work will come to life. From a delicious dinner to the most fun game of Secret Santa you've ever seen, it will surely be a night that will go down in history as one to never forget.

RATING || Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS || Established relationship, former sugar relationship, age gap romance, lots of domestic fluff, lots of PDA, use of mistletoe, explicit sexual content.

SMUT || Teasing, hickeys/lovebites, quickie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), fingering, spanking, hair pulling, cream pie, biting, begging, dirty talk, breeding kink, pregnancy kink.

A/N || Merry Christmas! I'm incredibly grateful for everything that my time on Tumblr has brought me this past year, and I'm happy to be able to share my stories with you all, too. I also want to give my special thanks and love to my best friend and the person I love the most on this earth - @ccbsrmsf1. I love you bestie, thank you for everything you have done for me this past year! 🤍

EVENTS @anyfandomfluffbingo || Edible underwear @fandom-free-bingo Book Night || (Catching) fire @fandom-free-bingo Pride || Queer cat parent @fandom-free-bingo Pride || Free space + “Be gay, do crime.”

@fictionaldelightsbingo Under The Sea || Finding safety at their lovers side + Free space + Gift exchange @julybreakbingo Post-JBB || Found family + “We shouldn’t do this.” @seasonaldelightsbingo Sweater Season || Cookies @tonystarkbingo Round 8 || Marriage

All the graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Sugar Daddy! Tony Stark

“Can you hand me that ornament?” you ask your fiancé, Tony, as you’re standing on a step stool to decorate the Christmas tree in the communal living room you share with the Avengers. You might as well have been talking to a ghost because he is much busier ogling you than he is with paying attention to what he’s supposed to do until you snap him out of it.

“Tony, hey! My ornament, please?” You snap your fingers a couple of times in front of his face, a chuckle audible as he shakes his head to return to reality. He had drifted off into a daydream when he saw some skin on your back as your Christmas sweater had lifted, and he immediately thought back to the way his fingers grazed that spot earlier today as he had you bent over on the bed.

“I- uhm, sorry,” he says shyly, reaching for the red and gold ornament you’ve asked him twice for. His cheeks are flushed with a deep red color, making him look adorable as you take the ornament from his hand, your fingers brushing past one another as you do. Your lips curl into a smile as you take a moment to take in the sight before you - a shy Tony whose cheeks have turned redder than ever before, all because he got caught in the middle of a daydream.

“It’s okay, Handsome. Just don’t let it happen again, okay?” A wink follows your words, and Tony nods before quickly turning around and grabbing two more ornaments for you to use. Your two cats, Sun and Moon, are napping in one of the countless cat beds you have strewn all over your penthouse and communal living spaces, and he melts a little at the sight.

“Aren’t they adorable like this?” You come down from your step stool as you stand beside your fiancé. He hums in approval, and you two stand there for a few more moments before you grab one of the ornaments from his hands and return to decorating the tree because there’s still much to do before your Secret Santa tonight.

“Do you want to help me bake the cookies once this is done? I want to make a few different kinds, and I think they-” motioning at your cats “-will be napping for a while longer. She doesn’t need another bottle until dinner either, so I think it might be fun to make some Christmas cookies together.”

“Hmm, there’s nothing else I would love more than to help you, Sugar,” Tony says as he comes to stand behind you, his hand lying on your ass as he does.

“Can you two keep your hands to yourselves? Not everyone wants to see you two touching each other like that every time they walk into a room,” a familiar voice says. You laugh loudly, and Tony doesn’t move his hand as he turns his head.

“Careful, or I’ll tell Laura you’re staring at us while we’re having an intimate moment!” Tony quips back at Clint, who picked up one of his arrows that stayed behind after cleaning them earlier. The archer flips him off with a chuckle before leaving you two to what you were doing. You have gotten rather close with all of the Avengers, and it isn’t uncommon for Clint to call you two out during moments like this, but you don’t mind because you know it comes from a place of love.

After one more squeeze, Tony lets go of you to grab the last ornaments needed to finish decorating. When you’re done, you take a step back to admire your hard work in full. You feel your fiancé’s hands slipping onto your waist and his chest pressing against your back, and a flutter of butterflies goes wild in your stomach at the closeness.

“You did an amazing job as always, Sugar. ‘M so proud of you!” His words are emphasized by a few soft kisses on your head that have you smiling wide. As you’re standing here together, you take a moment to bask in the closeness, and Tony can’t help but do the same as he nuzzles his nose into your hair, your sweetly scented shampoo reminding him of some amazing things you’ve shared.

“I love you, Tony, but we’re on a bit of a tight schedule, so it’s time to bake cookies now!” you let him know, and he chuckles before letting you go, his cheeks still showing the flush from earlier when you turn around. Your hands cup his cheeks before standing on your tiptoes and kissing the tip of his nose, which warms his cheeks under your fingers.

“I love you too, Sugar. Thank you for brightening my days,” he whispers, and you smile at him before letting go and making your way to the kitchen. Tony gently picks up the bed that Sun and Moon are lying on. They don’t seem to be disturbed as he takes them to the kitchen where you’re getting some supplies ready, and the oven is already preheating.

Over the next two and a half hours, you and Tony spend some much-needed quality time in the kitchen - from preparing the different kinds of cookie dough to cutting them out, baking and decorating them, it’s like you two are a well oiled machine with the way you two are going at it.

“Ready for the last batch to go in?” you ask Tony as he’s finishing a few sugar cookies that are being piped to look like snowflakes. Never in a million years would you have guessed that someone like him would be good at decorating cookies, but in hindsight, you’re not surprised at all - he has very skilled hands after all.

“Absolutely! And when they’re in, I think it’s time we take a small break until they’re done!” The enthusiasm with which he says it has you raising your eyebrow in a questioning way, though you also can’t help but melt a little at how excited he is at the thought of taking a break with you.

“It’s not like I could every say no to you and your cute face,” you tell him with a chuckle, which makes a dark red flush appear on his cheeks. While he has the art of complimenting you down to perfection, he still has a long way to go when it comes to receiving compliments, and you can’t help but look at him in awe when he turns into the shy boy you’ve come to know and love, too.

As soon as the cookies are in the oven, Tony guides you to sit on the bit of space on the counter that he cleared. He steps between your legs before pulling you towards the edge.

“Much better,” he murmurs with a small smile before trailing some kisses over your jaw and down your neck, his teeth sometimes nipping at your sensitive spots as you moan only loud enough for the two of you to hear. His fingers dig into your thighs while yours are tugging gently on his chocolate brown locks, the moment making it feel like you’re floating and going to heaven.

“Tony,” you moan softly, his lips curling into a smirk as he nips at your jaw. Your entire body feels like it is on fire from the time he spent leaving his marks. Unfortunately, the moment is rudely interrupted by the dinging of the oven, letting you know that your last batch of gingerbread cookies is ready to be taken out.

As soon as your fiancé steps away, you feel like a piece of you is missing, and the room has turned significantly colder without him being this close to you. Thankfully, you don’t have to wait long for his return because as soon as the cookies are on the cooling rac, he’s back in his original spot, his hands now cupping your cheeks.

“Have I told you that you look beautiful today?” Even though it’s a relatively straightforward question, you can’t help but feel like your entire body is catching fire as he asks it. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes, every last bit feels like it’s blushing as you try to hide your face in his neck, but to no avail - he won’t let you hide that easily.

“Oh no, there’s no hiding from me, Sugar! Now that you’ve said yes to marrying me, I will tell you even more how much I love you and how beautiful you are. So I suggest you better get used to it while you can.” The smirk on his lips makes you melt in his hold, and you lean forward to kiss his lips gently. It’s followed by a kiss on the tip of your nose, and then Tony steps back, ready to help you off the counter.

As soon as your legs are steady again, Tony kisses your head, making you smile like an idiot, before turning around to get ready to do some more decorating of the cookies. Tonight, you’ll be doing Secret Santa with the Avengers and tasked to ensure there are plenty of snacks for everyone, and baking for them is a love language you’ll happily indulge in.

“If you continue the sugar cookies, I’ll do these gingerbread cookies while Sun’s bottle is warming up, okay? I saw she’s awake again, so I think I’m giving her an early bottle today,” you tell Tony, who wholeheartedly agrees. Soon after, the bottle for your kitten, Sun, is warming while she and Moon are playing with a toy already in their cat bed, making the most adorable of noises as they do.

Once all the cookies are done, you let out a sigh of relief as you look at them, pride flowing through your body as Tony places his hands on your shoulders while standing behind you. Neither of you can stop smiling as you let yourself melt into his touch for a moment, the warmth of his body welcomed more than ever.

“I’ll get our blanket ready if you get her bottle, okay? Then we can maybe watch a movie as we cuddle with our babies,” Tony offers, and you happily agree with his idea. Once you’re on the couch - both your and Tony’s legs are covered by a large blanket, Moon is in Tony’s arms, and Sun is in yours as she drinks from her bottle of milk - you feel a moment of peace come over you as you put your head on your husband-to-be’s shoulder.

“Where do you want to get married?” Tony asks, and for a moment, it’s completely silent. You’ve thought of many places where you could tie the knot, but lately, one place stands out when you think about it.

“Well, I have some thoughts, but you can always say no if you don’t want to do it, okay?” you ask, and he nods in agreement.

“It may sound silly, but ever since I proposed to you, I’ve been secretly doing some wedding planning on the side - nothing major, of course, just figuring out where I want to get married, what type of dress I like, things like that - and there’s one thing that I think will make our wedding day perfect. I’ve been going through many files and found out that your Mom and Dad got married in Italy, and I think it would be a beautiful honor to get married in the same place as them.”

Tony’s mouth is slightly agape as he looks at you with an adoring look, tears forming at his waterline as he lets the news settle in that you’ve thought about getting married in the same place as his parents, even though you never had the chance to meet them. Your thumb wipes away some of the tears trickling down his cheek, and he nods enthusiastically as he doesn’t trust his voice right now.

“Without them getting married there, I never would have had the chance to get to know and fall in love with you, Tony, so I think there’s nothing more fitting than the beginning of our marriage to be in the same place as theirs. It resulted in you, after all,” you tell him with a chuckle. He laughs loudly as he wipes the tears from his cheeks. Moon has shifted from his lap to his chest to comfort him as well.

“It’s okay, Buddy, Daddy’s not sad. Mommy just made him so happy he couldn’t hold back his tears,” Tony says gently as he kisses Moon between his ears, who purrs audibly. Your mouth curls into a smile as you look at them, and Tony looks at you before leaning over and kissing your cheek. You’ve been thinking about it for months, and now that you’ve finally told Tony about your idea, you’re even more excited to say yes to him one day.

“What do you think I should wear to dinner?” you ask Tony, holding up two dress options. One is a stunning black off-shoulder dress highlighting all your curves, and the other is a low-cut red velvet dress with gold accessories. While he gifted you both options not too long ago, you’ve been indecisive about what to wear, and you’re hoping that his choosing for you will make it easier, though there isn’t really a choice. You already know which one he’ll pick between these two.

“Hmm, while I know you will look beautiful in both, I think I’m choosing the burgundy for tonight and the black one for when we go out for dinner on New Year’s Eve,” he offers, and your mouth curls into a smile as this is exactly what you anticipated would happen. If there’s one thing Tony loves, it is you dressing in his colors, and the excited flush on his cheeks makes him even cuter than he already is.

“Thank you,” you whisper before pecking him on the lips and turning around, leaving him breathless as he discovers you were hiding some deep red lingerie behind the dresses you showed him. The sway of your hips immediately has him wanting more of you, and he can’t help but follow, the belt he was putting on now being discarded on his way into the large walk-in closet.

Before you’ve had a chance to properly hang up the black dress and lie the red one down, you feel your fiancé’s hands gently digging into your hips, his lips already on the sensitive spot in your neck as he groans softly, his pants growing tighter by the second.

“You’re such a little tease tonight, huh? First, showing me the red dress, knowing full well that’s the one I’d pick, and then revealing you’re only wearing some of your sluttiest lingerie for me? You’ve been serving yourself on a pretty platter for me to enjoy, right?”

His words come out in a breathy voice, his rapidly hardening length already poking against your lower back as your head falls to the side, giving him all the access he wants while your chest rises and falls quicker as your heart rate and breathing are faster than before.

“Tony, we- we shouldn’t do this right now,” you say with a giggle, as he’s already moving to unbutton his pants with one hand, his other hand kneading your breast as he looks over your shoulder at what he’s doing. He hums as an answer, knowing you want this just as much as he does right now. As your eyes slip shut, you can hear the distinct sound of the zipper being pulled down, which elicits a soft moan from you.

“Is that so? Well, I think that if I were to slip my fingers in your lacey little panties, your sweet pussy would tell me something different,” he says, and without missing a beat, he does exactly that. Your legs spread a little to make room for the thickness of his digits sliding through your soaked folds, an excited hum audible as he takes his time to play with your sensitive clit.

“Please!” The word comes out in a soft whine, your head falling against his shoulder as Tony’s cock throbs in excitement, his hand wrapped around it as he gently strokes himself. Without warning, he bends you over the large dresser that’s in the middle of the closet, your ass being beautifully exposed as he does. With the hand that’s now free, he lands two loud slaps on your ass, that have you moaning loudly.

“That’s it, moan for me like a good slut,” he encourages you before pulling your panties to the side and sliding his tip into your tight pussy, still well aware of the fact that even though you two don’t have much time, he doesn’t want to hurt you by giving you more than you can take, either. With clenched teeth, he takes the time to stretch you, your mind slowly going blank as you grab onto the dresser’s edge as he does.

“Such a perfect girl, letting Daddy fuck her whenever his dick gets hard from you walking around like this.”

A brutal pace follows the words as he bends himself over your back, his hand being placed on your throat without squeezing, giving him enough leverage to fuck you senseless. Your moans turn louder and louder with every thrust, his thickness sliding in and out effortlessly as your pussy gushes around him constantly. As your orgasm quickly builds, you grab Tony’s hair to pull on it, which is followed by him biting down on your shoulder while the pleasure builds rapidly.

“D-Daddy, fuck- I’m c-close!” you tell him, your words barely audible as the pleasure is taking over every fiber of your being, your blood feeling like lava inside your veins as the pleasure takes you under until you’re clenching down on your fiancé’s cock, which is followed by his orgasm as he cums deep inside you with a loud groan of your name.

“Take it, fucking take my cum- You’ll get so fucking pregnant tonight, I’m sure of it,” he groans as he’s panting above you, a small layer of sweat on your skin as you’re coming down from your high. For a moment, you cannot say a single thing as you’re shaking and trembling in your future husband’s hold, his cock still nestled deep inside you despite him having gone soft and being overly sensitive.

“I love you, my sweet, beautiful, and amazing Sugar,” he whispers as he kisses the sensitive bite mark he left on your shoulder - it’s not enough to have drawn blood. Still, it definitely will bruise, and you’ll wear his mark with pride as you’re having dinner with the Avengers and all the others soon. With a dopey smile on your face, you get back up before putting your panties back in place, ensuring Tony’s cum will stay nestled inside you for as long as possible.

“Will you help zip me up, Handsome?” you ask Tony not long after you’ve slipped into the dress, though it took you quite some time to finally regain your composure without trembling on your legs like a baby deer. He’d done a real number on you and your body when he took you like he couldn’t wait any longer, but you wouldn’t change it for the world, especially after seeing his fucked out face when he tried to get himself looking decent again.

“Hmm, I’d rather help you get it off, not on,” his words followed by a chuckle as you roll your eyes at his comment, but he still does what you asked. As you take a moment to smooth out the fabric of your dress while looking at yourself in the mirror, he stands behind you, one of his hands sliding from your hip to your belly as he crosses your gaze.

“You’ll be the most beautiful woman ever when you carry my baby.” The words come out as more of a whisper, but they still set your cheeks on fire as you cover his large hand with your significantly smaller one. There’s a comfortable silence between you two as you bask in the closeness and the thought that Tony has thought about the way you look while pregnant. You two have discussed babies before but haven’t ever gotten too deep into it, so while it isn’t a huge surprise, it still makes your heart beat faster from excitement.

After a few more moments together, it’s finally time for you and Tony to go to the communal kitchen, where the dining table has already been set, and the private chefs Tony hired to prepare a delicious Christmas dinner have been working hard to make your evening unforgettable. However, before you two can head there, he has a small surprise for you.

“It might be a bit silly, but I hung up a surprise for us in the living room,” Tony tells you, his cheeks slightly red as he confesses to his actions. While you have a feeling you know what he did, you still go and check it out to be sure - and your hunch was correct. In your favorite spot - in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan - is a mistletoe, which makes you smile broadly. While it might be a simple gesture to most people, it’s a massive one to you as you stand underneath it, your hand outstretched for him to join.

“It appears a mistletoe has suddenly appeared, so it’s only fitting we honor the tradition that comes with it,” you say. Tony smiles brightly as he steps in front of you, his fingers intertwining with yours before he ducks his head slightly, kissing your lips softly, making the world around you feel like it’s fading. There’s nothing other than you and Tony, your lips on his, and your souls connecting right now.

You two are only pulled from your moment when you feel a familiar feeling against your leg as your cat Moon pushes his body against it, wanting some attention, too. He follows it with a few soft meows, and you can’t help but smile as you pull away from your fiancé’s lips. Your black cat, Moon, is known for interrupting moments like this when he feels like getting attention, and he’s too spoiled not to do it, seeing how you give in every time.

“I believe someone else might want some attention, too, don’t you, Moon?” You ask as you let your hand glide over his back, a soft purr audible as you do. Tony takes a step back to admire how you interact because even though he prefers to be with Tony most of the time, he also loves getting attention from you, and you’re more than happy to give it to him every time he asks for it. Your mind flashes back to when you first rescued him when he was a little kitten, and he has come from far to be where he is now - a spoiled, well-loved cat with all his heart desires and more.

“Shall we take you and your little sister to dinner with us? Maybe Bucky will bring Miss Alpine too, and all three of you can have some fun, too,” you ask, and Moon immediately meows in response. He always brings a smile to your face, making you fall in love with him more every day as you look at him and the cat he has become since you rescued him a few years ago.

“Let’s head to the kitchen, Sugar. I’m starting to get hungry after you’ve worn me out the way you did,” your fiancé says with a small smile, though you both know it was him who wore you out when he fucked you the way he did not too long ago. Still, you happily agree before taking his hand and leading him to the elevator, Moon following closely behind.

While you open the elevator doors, Tony picks up a cat bed from the couch, where Sun is napping. Moon is patiently waiting for his Dad to join you both. Your face splits into an excited smile as soon as he comes into sight, and as usual, your happiness cannot be contained as you look at how handsome he looks in his black suit. He often wears suits for work, but something about him wearing all black has you squeezing your thighs in excitement.

He pecks your lips softly as the elevator doors close, and soon, you find yourself getting the last things ready in the dining room, which is already lavishly decorated with every last bit of Christmas decoration known to man. Just as you’re about to light the last few candles on the table, you’re suddenly stopped by your best friend and Avenger, Natasha, as she puts a hand on your shoulder.

“I know you two have a thing for marking one another, but this…” Natasha says with a small smirk. “...I approve,” she follows with a wink, making your cheeks set on fire as she examined the bite mark Tony left earlier. It’s less red than before, but the bruising is already starting to happen, making it more evident than you thought. You still wear it with pride, showing your commitment to the man you love. It also gives you a mental note to mark him up like this at some point so he can walk around wearing your marks, too.

Once everything is ready, everyone slowly shows up. Steve and Bucky come in wearing simple black-and-white suits, their fingers intertwined, while Bucky carries Alpine in his free arm. Clint and Laura walk in looking beautiful in their matching purple dress and suit. Thor and Loki are dressed in the finest Asgardian clothing, making them look out of this world, and Bruce and Natasha have gone for classic black.

“Can I have everyone’s attention?” Tony asks as he stands up, the conversations between everyone slowly dying down before there’s nothing but silence - apart from the soft purring audible from the three cats that are having the time of their life during this Christmas dinner with all the attention they’re getting.

“I want to thank you all for being here tonight because it wouldn’t have been as fun if some of you were missing. If there is one thing that the past year has taught me, it’s nothing more important than being with the people you love, and I’m happy to see you all. Everyone here tonight has a special place in my heart, and I’m happy to say you’re all part of my big, found family. None of us would be here tonight without one another,” he says with a slight smile, and everyone agrees.

“One thing I don’t say nearly enough times is that even though some of us may have had our differences before, I love you all deeply. And I love the furry babies - Sun, Moon, and Alpine, too. They brighten everyone’s days in ways they’re probably unaware of, but they are playing a big role in our lives, and I can’t get enough of their silly moments.”

“But there’s one person who I want to mention especially. Without her, I wouldn’t have been able to believe I was worthy of being loved, and I wouldn’t have been able to love myself. Sugar, I cannot thank you enough for showing me every day what it is like to be loved and being with me throughout everything we’ve been through. It’s surely not been easy, but without you, I wouldn’t have gotten through it at all, and I’m thankful that you’re the love of my life. You have made me believe in love again, and I cannot wait to marry you in a few months. I love you,” he finishes his little speech, which has brought tears to your eyes as you smile up at your future husband.

“I love you too, Tony,” you whisper before getting up and kissing him, sealing his words with a promise of loving him for the rest of your lives together. He may be quite a few years older than you, but you’re still looking forward to spending your best years with him as you grow your family. And you know he’ll look very handsome as a silver fox. Applause slowly erupts around the table when you two pull each other into a tight embrace, and there is not a single dry eye in the room when you’re sitting down again, ready to finish dinner before getting ready for Secret Santa.

Once everyone is done having dinner, it’s finally time for the main event of the evening: a gift exchange in the form of Secret Santa. Everyone is spread out on different colored loveseats brought in from any place anyone could think of, ample chairs, and the floor around the fireplace, which burns in the communal living room area. There’s a comfortable atmosphere as everyone sips on a drink and converses until Tony grabs everyone’s attention again, wanting to get started.

“So, it’s only right that the first person to give their gift away will be this beautiful woman next to me, as she has graciously put this evening together for everyone. Will you do the honors, Sugar?” Tony asks softly. You nod before pecking him on the lips and getting up. The present is wrapped in a cylindrical package and topped with a large purple bow.

“Merry Christmas, Clint,” you say as you hand him the present, but you can’t get too far as he pulls you in for a hug while murmuring his thanks to you. With a large smile, you walk back to the loveseat you and Tony share before getting comfortable with his arm wrapped around your shoulder. Once seated, he kisses your cheek before looking at Clint, who’s quickly unwrapping his present.

“Oh my god-” is all he can bring out before he’s out of his seat and running over to you, pulling you in a hug while you’re still half in Tony’s hold. He uttered about a hundred thank yous as you two hugged. You have thought of the perfect gift, so make a mental note to thank Shuri when you speak to her again. When he finally lets you go, he cannot stop smiling as he looks at the Vibranium arrows he received from you, which were specially made by Shuri. He’s wanted some for a long time, and these will be perfect for taking on missions with him.

“Okay, now it’s my turn! Here you go,” he says to Bucky, who’s sitting one seat over. After a small thank you, he takes the tissue paper out of the bag he’s been given and pulls out two presents that make him laugh and nod in approval. He receives a mug with the text ‘Queer cat parent,’ as well as a shirt that reads ‘Be gay, do crime.’ It’s like they were made just for him.

After gently putting the presents to the side, he grabs a small package wrapped in black and gold paper and hands it to his oldest friend—other than Steve, of course—Natasha. She takes her time opening it, and when she finally does, she gasps loudly as she examines the set of custom Vibranium knives that Bucky has gifted her. The blades are of different lengths and all black, while the handles are deep red, resembling blood.

“I- wow. Thank you, Bucky,” she says as her cheeks turn dark red. While she would have been happy with any other type of knife, too, something about these has her appreciating him even more than she already did. They match her black widow aesthetic beautifully, and she’s either looking at them or doing tricks with them the rest of the night, showing off her expert knife skills.

“Before I give my gift away, I need to thank someone very special. Tony, thank you for helping me out with this present because, without you, I still would have been deciding what to give. You’re the best friend anyone could wish for, and Detka, you’re a pretty lucky lady with a man like yours,” she tells you, and then grabs her significantly sized gift from the pile in the middle of the circle you’re all sitting in.

“Merry Christmas!” Natasha practically drops the gift in Bruce’s lap because it is so heavy, a loud huff audible as it lands on his thighs. His glasses slide down his nose, and he quickly slides them back up before tearing the wrapping paper off to find a collection of science books he’s been dreaming of for years.

“I know you don’t like to spend money on yourself, so Tony figured it would be the perfect present-” is all she can say before her words are cut off with a kiss - it might not be the first one they’ve ever shared, but it is the first one they’re sharing in front of everyone. Other than you - Natasha told you as soon as they became official - no one knew that they’ve been secretly dating for a few months now, and tonight is the night they’re finally coming out with their secret, even if it wasn’t planned this way.

As you look at them with a smirk, Tony pulls you closer to him before whispering, “You knew about this, didn’t you?” With the same smirk on your face, you turn to him as you nod proudly, as you want nothing more than to see your best friend happy and in love. Then, when all the excitement in the room died down, it was Bruce’s turn to gift his present, and he got a beautiful pair of diamond earrings for Laura after Clint recommended that he get some.

“They’re lovely, Bruce. Thank you so much,” she says shyly, a blush on her cheeks as she takes in their beauty, almost forgetting that it’s now her turn to give someone their present. It turns out that now it is Tony’s turn, and he would never in a million years have been able to prepare for the gift he has gotten. Inside the bag is a set of edible underwear for you and him to enjoy as an engagement present, as well as two Santa hats - one for him and one for Moon - and a brooch with a matching tie pin in the form of a Sun, so you two can always carry your little girl close to your heart.

It doesn’t take long for Tony to put on the Santa hat and the one meant for Moon, even if he isn’t the biggest fan. Eventually, he warms up to the idea. Happily, he returns to his cuddle pile with Alpine and Sun while wearing it, which means everyone takes countless photos of the inseparable trio.

“Now that you’re wearing the Santa hat, does that mean I get to sit on your lap tonight and tell you what I want for Christmas?” you ask as you gently rake your nails over his chest, making goosebumps appear all over his body. He quickly nods in approval, not trusting the words that’ll come out of his mouth if he opens it. Then, as most drinks are now empty, you and Tony offer to fill up some drinks, and he quickly pulls you out of the room to get away for a moment.

“Tony?” you say as you’re in the kitchen, waiting for him to grab a few cartons of egg nog. He pokes his head around the fridge to look at you, his Santa hat swinging as he does. You smile as you look at his adorable expression.

“I know I asked you if I could tell you what I want for Christmas, but I already have everything and more right in front of me. I have an amazing future husband who takes care of every need and two amazing cats that are the light of my life,” you say, and Tony blushes deeply as you tell him. He’s still getting used to you saying things like this, even after being together for as long as you two have now.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing?” he asks before closing the fridge door and walking over to where you’re standing. He leans in to kiss you softly, taking your breath away as he does. It’s a sweet, loving kiss that has your heart beating faster and the butterflies in your mind go wild. While you’re unsure if it’s possible, you love him even more than you did before, and his sweet words will melt your heart every time.

When he pulls away, you’re both standing there with wide grins on your faces, wanting the moment to last just a little longer as you intertwine your fingers with his.

“I love you so much, Tony. Thank you for choosing me every single day.”

“Thank you for being with me through my good and bad days. I love you more than I can ever describe.” His words make tears gather in your eyes as he pulls you in for a hug, sealing his words until it’s finally time to head back.

Before heading back to the gift exchange, you grab a few cartons of egg nog to ensure there is enough for everyone, and it is divided rapidly among everyone, allowing you to sit on the couch again. Tony pulls you to his side, where your fiancé feels safest. He knows he can always find safety at your side, and the ease with which he sinks into your body shows it.

“So, uhm- My turn?” Tony asks as he rakes his fingers through his dark brown locks, and everyone hums in agreement. He gets up with a small gift, but you know exactly what’s inside as you smile broadly. Thor is the recipient this time, and as he rips open the package, he finds a silver necklace with a thunder pendant on it and a voucher for a lifetime supply of his favorite pop-tarts.

“You two are the best, thank you!” he says, his Australian accent thickening as the night progresses. When he gets tired, it always gets more noticeable, and it never fails to make you smile. It’s Thor’s turn to give the gift he has gotten, and it is Steve’s turn to open it. Inside is an extensive palette of the most beautiful paints you have ever seen, and Steve can’t stop smiling as he examines every color with a careful eye.

“Thank you, Thor. These are amazing! I can’t wait to get some use out of them as I finish the portrait of Bucky I’ve been working on!” Steve says proudly, though his partner is less impressed as he turns bright red, knowing that Steve is working on a nude portrait of Bucky. Still, he smiles as he looks at the colors, too, and they’re some of the brightest, most beautiful colors he has ever seen.

“At this point, only two people are left to receive a gift, and I’m sorry to say you’ll have to wait a little longer, Y/N!” Steve says as he hands Loki a square package, which he graciously accepts. You smile in appreciation at Steve’s words, though you don’t mind being last because you enjoy everyone else opening their presents just as much as you love opening them yourself.

As Loki gently opens the package, he finds a large, handmade cloak with an emerald green lining, a black outside, and a beautiful pattern of swirls in thin gold thread. The clasp that keeps it closed is gold, which matches his other garments beautifully. He immediately tries it on, getting many nods and words of approval as the gold detailing shimmers in the light coming from the fireplace and Christmas tree lights.

“Now, I hope that I will have saved the best for last,” Loki says as he gifts you a square gift wrapped with emerald green paper, letting you know exactly who it came from.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he says as you take it from him, the anticipation nearly becoming too much as you’re excited to see what is inside. Once you open it, you immediately gasp at the sight. Inside is a customized stethoscope that has your initials on it, but instead of the initial of your maiden name, it’s an ‘S’ for Stark because you’ll soon be Mrs. Stark, of course.

“I am speechless,” you say as you pick it up to examine it closer, the silver shining back at you as you fight the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. It doesn’t often happen that someone gives you such a thoughtful gift, but it warms your heart to know Loki had it made for you to use in the long run, as it’ll proudly show the initial of Tony’s last name.

“Thank you, Loki. It means a lot that you got me this,” you say as you get up to hug him, too, wanting to give him an extra special thank you. He then whispers another Merry Christmas before letting you go and sitting back down, the stethoscope proudly hanging around your neck. Once everyone has opened their gifts, it’s time to thoroughly check them out until it’s time for everyone to call it a night and head to bed.

As soon as you’re back in your penthouse with Sun and Moon - vast asleep in their cat tower - Tony pulls you to the bedroom to get some much-needed cuddles. The past few days have been nothing but stress and running around to get everything ready on time, but now that you have had a successful Christmas dinner and Secret Santa, you can finally breathe a sigh of relief.

“I think I’m going to sleep the entire day tomorrow because I’m not getting up for anything or anyone after the days I’ve had,” you say with a chuckle as you take off the dress you’re wearing. Once you’re left in your lingerie, Tony unhooks the bra before you let it fall to the floor and walk over to the dresser, where you have your comfortable cotton panties, together with Tony’s shirts, waiting for you.

“Hmm, as long as you’ll be awake long enough for me to gift you one last present tomorrow, then we’re all good,” he says with a chuckle before disappearing into the en-suite bathroom, ready to do his nighttime routine. You follow shortly after, wearing nothing more than the panties and Tony’s shirt you picked out, ready to brush your teeth and call it a night.

“I think I’ll be able to manage that. But I don’t want to be awake before 10 AM, okay? A girl deserves to sleep in now and again.” He looks at you through your mirror, and you smile as he raises a brow in response. Still, he wouldn’t dare go against your wishes because he is always willing to give you everything you’ve ever asked for, and if sleeping in until 10 AM is what you want, then that’s what you’ll get.

Once you’re finally in bed and tucked away under the soft sheets, you quickly fall asleep with your future husband against your back, his large hand splayed over your belly and his face buried in your neck. The following day, Tony is up bright and early again, but he won’t wake you up before 10 AM, just like you asked, instead going to the kitchen to do some meal prep for you and the two long shifts you have ahead of you before New Year’s Eve, as well as making breakfast.

Then, at precisely the time you mentioned, Tony wakes you up as the smell of pancakes and coffee fills the air, and the sheets feel tighter by your feet, which means Sun and Moon have joined the two of you.

“Good morning, Sugar. It’s 10 AM, and I have one more surprise for you,” he says. You smile before nodding and getting comfortable in bed, your back against the headboard as a pillow supports your lower back. Soon, Tony is back on his side of the bed, with a present in his hand wrapped in gold and red wrapping paper, just like the colors of his Iron Man suit. After a whispered thank you, you quickly unwrap it to find a golden necklace with three charms. There’s a red ‘T,’ a small black Moon to represent your oldest cat, and an orange Sun to represent your kitten.

“Sadly, we can’t be together all the time due to me being gone for long missions sometimes, and you are working long shifts as the best surgeon SHIELD has ever known, but this way, you can carry us wherever you go, Sugar.”

“Tony… I love it. Thank you so much,” you say as your fingers glide over the beautiful charms, complementing each other perfectly. He has thought this gift through to the last little detail, and it’s the best present he has given you - apart from your engagement ring, of course. You lean in for a few kisses, his facial hair tickling your skin as he does, but you can’t stop smiling while holding the present.

“Would you like for me to put it on you?” You immediately nod, and it doesn’t take long for him to have the clasp closed, making it official. You’ll always be able to carry your husband-to-be and your cats with you, no matter where you’re going. While your Christmas was fantastic, it has become the perfect holiday. Now, you can finally look forward to being spoiled by your fiancé on New Year’s Eve, as it promises to be one never to forget.

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

What is the first Christmas outside of the factory like for the toys? Do they celebrate it?

Normalcy and other weird things you never heard about

Hiiii! Decided to write something short for this one. I'll be working on all the other Christmas stuff possibly tomorrow! Thanks for the ask, Anon!

As always: 2nd person POV because Angel refers to themself as "you" instead of "me". Also not as always, but this isn't proofread!

"This is weird".

Bunzo holds the comically large Santa Claus hat, wriggling it around. You carefully grab a few extra chocolate boxes to put on your already full cart. "Why?", you ask the bunny as he almost hits his head against another person's legs. "Eyes on front, not the floor!"

"Why would anyone believe a single guy can give presents to all the kids in the world?"

"Parents tell their kids that so they can have more fun during Christmas time", you respond, stopping the cart to now realize you forgot the milk. Again. "To have some magic, I guess".

"Kids are dumb", Bunzo then tries the hat on, ignoring the price tag clashing against his head.

"You are a kid".

You chuckle at his indignant expression before being surprised by a pair of comically long yellow arms. Ollie emerges from the other corridor, milk on hand and a tired expression on his face. "You forgot that again".

"Thanks, Owl".

The long legs then stares at Bunzo and rolls his eyes. "You look like a dumb kid".

"Hey!"

"Please don't fight at the grocery store again", you sigh. "Where's Dogday?"

"Here!"

The pup appears, wheelchair adorned with Christmas decoration and a red scarf wrapped around his neck. He's holding a few items on his lap, while Delight walks next to him with a very proud expression on her face and a cart full of things. "We completed our list!", she announces. "Did you finish yours, Angel?"

"Ollie just grabbed our last items".

Bunzo climbs your back. You dont even react. "But I helped!"

"Heck yeah, you did", a well-deserved head scratch for him. Bunzo stims in satisfaction, much to Ollie's disdain. "Alright, kiddos, guess this is everything on our part. Any news on Marie's group?"

"Last time I saw her, she and Poppy were debating on which pears were looking the best...", Dogday's voice tone is enough to tell you everything you needed to know: The perfectionists are doing their thing. "... They all looked the same to me..."

Still, you chuckle a bit. "Looks like they want everything to go well for our first Christmas together, eh?"

And indeed, they were.

-

Grabbing the girls away from their perfection crisis was sure a moment, but in the end, you are all able to leave the grocery store after challenging the final boss (read: The waiting line). The van becomes full of bags, and for a moment you're a bit scared y'all wouldn't fit, but years of playing Tetris have sure done a good job to you.

Together with the kids, you head back home. Miguel and Amy, wonderful babysitters as ever, are out in the backyard with the mini toys as Catnap looks over them. Your brother smiles when he sees you, and you feel very, very happy that he and Amy didn't have to deal with the kids trying to burn the house down again.

Bobby watches from her chair as you, Marie, Delight and Kissy put the groceries away. "Is that... All for Christmas?", she asks, confused.

"Heck yeah", you nod. "Christmas is for eating a ton of stuff, Bobs. Gotta go all out now that we have 87 of you!"

"But...", she bites her bead necklace. "... All of that for one day?"

"To be fair, we normally can't eat it all in one day. We cook a ton and it can last for a few days! And then after that, it's New Year's eve, and off we go to eat a ton of stuff again".

"Woah...", her eyes are shining. "A-and the cookies?"

"You're going to be the one helping me bake them".

"Yaay!"

-

You stare at the pile of gifts you got the kids. It's... A lot, and you're not even counting the stuff people donated to them. You're lucky Miguel and your parents accepted giving up their garages to fit it all in. A surprise is still a surprise, even if the kids don't believe in Santa.

Your mom is excitedly chatting with Dogday, teaching him how to crochet a scarf. Crafty listens closely, excited. When the three of you eventually have to leave that house, the kids completely oblivious to the gift plan. "Y... Y-your mom is really nice, Angel", the unicorn mutters, staring at the ground. "Really nice..."

"Don't be weirded out, Crafty. She loves all of you, like a grandma would".

"But she's not our grandma..."

"Well, f'course not, she's my mom and YOUR grandma".

"That's not what I meant...", but she's smiling, so the joke worked. "Uh...?"

"Excuse me!"

The three of you stop when a man pops up. He's probably in his mid 30s, if not maybe late 30s. You cross your arms, noticing a notebook he's carrying around. "Yes?"

"Are you the Angel from the PlayCo. Case?"

You eye the kids, annoyed, and they eye you back, also annoyed. "Yes".

"Oh, that's wonderful to hear! You see, I'm a-"

"Reporter?"

"Oh?", he seems surprised. "Yes, yes! I have been meaning to talk to you, miss, about what you plan to do with them for this holiday season. You see..."

"Nah", you walk past him. "Not interested in exposing them more during their first normal Christmas of their lives. Goodbye".

-

Christmas eve is chaotic.

Huggy wakes you up at 5 in the morning, too agitated to go back to bed. You end up being used as a plushie by him as the others sleep, the house being too crammed with living toys for you to have the luxury of proceeding with your day. When most of them awaken, you tell them about the plan.

You have to use the van a few times, but by the end of things, you're able to bring all the kids to your parents' house. After some time, they all organize in small teams in order to "help" with the very important jobs they were given. Huggy, Kissy, PJ, Boxy and Bunzo, being the youngest of them, are tasked with taking care of the snow (read: playing outside), while most of the minis don't need to be coerced into having fun.

Poppy and you get stuck in the kitchen. Your father is helping Marie with making some of the many dishes, and Bobby, Crafty and many minis are having the time of their lives with baking cookies. Catnap sits outside, "guarding" you all. Dogday goes to check on him from time to time as he tries helping you with making some good Christmas soup.

Piggy ends up helping Marie the moment she comes back from sulking outside. She's shy, but Marie's grumpiness with only having one harm is enough for her to try to help. Not that she can do much without her hands, but Delight makes a "hook" with some textiles laying around so Piggy can at least hold a spoon by herself. The three girls and your dad talk nonstop, and you and Poppy try your best to not laugh at them.

Bubba seems grumpy for not being able to do much. Despite how well the toys heal from their wounds, Bubba is a special case. A very special one. So he watches, and ask questions, while Dogday runs from place to place trying to organize the house and the extra decorations the kids insisted on buying.

Hoppy and Kickin are having their third argument of the day as they try to make pastéis. Never have you ever ate a pastel for Christmas, but the kids loved them and you didn't want to force them to follow any traditions. Ollie is merely going from place to place, helping everyone a little bit and pretending he isn't excited about it all. Eventually, your aunts and uncles pop up, and the chaos bubble pops.

They overflow you with questions, of course, but they also dote on the kids a lot, so you accept answering some things. Nando pops up right behind you, and you jump before rolling your eyes. "Fuck off, you idiot, I'm cooking", you growl.

"Parent of 87 kids and still using the same foul language", your cousin rolls his eyes at you. "Nice to see you too, dipshit".

Poppy, who's busy cutting things for you, seems curious. "Hello, sir!", she nods at him. "I'm Poppy. It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"Thought you were bigger", he jokes, and you hit him with your elbow. "Hi, Poppy. Name's Nando. I'm your dad's cousin, nice to meet you. Good to know at least someone has manners..."

"Cut it off, Nando", Miguel FINALLY pops up, snow on his hair. "Leave them alone".

"Them who?"

"My kids", you reply, smiling. "You're bothering them".

"I'm not doing anything to them!"

Another elbow hit. Poppy chuckles, understanding the situation.

-

More and more questions arise for the kids. You avoid some, the kids avoid others, and some of them have answers. The 87 toys become the theme for the Christmas eve, and when night arrives, you help everyone dress up for the occasion, sweaters and silly hats for all of them, no exceptions.

Miguel's oldest kid helps you so, so much through all of this. She's pampering her new friends, of course, while her baby sister is catching everyone's attention, including Catnap, who cannot stop staring at her. She tries grabbing his ears, and, strangely, he allows it.

Your mom takes pictures of everyone. Literally everyone, no exceptions, including one of the whole family, which had to be taken outside. When you all finally sit down to eat, many of the toys try to show off how they can finally sort of use forks and knives now. Kickin and Hoppy annoy each other to the point you have to tell them to cut it off, and Amy giggles, saying they remind her of Miguel and you.

"Really?", Kickin asks, smiling. "Didn't know that guy over there was like that".

"I'm not", you reply.

"You are", your parents, Miguel AND Amy cut you off. You shake your head. Humiliated by your own family, it seems.

Gift giving is equally chaotic. First, the human part of the fam opens their gifts. Then you open the garage's doors, and the kids all seem so, so surprised. It's... Cute, almost, to see the way they all react, and how much they help each other grab and open their gift wrappings. Dogday, especially.

Of course, not all the presents are opened here. Instead, during the following day, you put everything back at your own house before going back to your parents' to grab the kiddos.

They're happy. Surprised, yes, but extremely happy, and this is what matters most to you.

... Despite all the plushies they obtained, however, they still insist on using you as one when they have to go to sleep again.

[wickedwitchofthewesninski]

I LOVE TAG GAMES!

I was tagged by the wonderful @blacklesbianprincess THANK YOU

Shuffle your On Repeat Playlist and list the first 10 songs that come up!

My go-to playlist lately is the most eclectic shit ever istg

1- IF NOT FOR YOU - Måneskin (ballads sung by rock bands>>>>>>>)

2- Bella Ciao - Manu Pilas, from the Money Heist soundtrack (I haven't even seen money heist it just slaps)

3- Francesca - Hozier (I'd tell them put me back in it, I would do it again)

4- I want to spend my lifetime loving you - from The Mask Of Zorro soundtrack. (I have no excuses that movie is amazing)

5- Everything matters - AURORA and Pomme (so loving and soft)

6- Olmaz Olsun - Sezen Aksu (Turkish: With gold, silver, diamond, Emerald, pearl, ruby, Who has been happy in this world?! Only a sincere smile, a sweet word a kiss only, a lovely glance is enough for me)

7- LA FINE - Maneskin again (so angry and strong)

8- Ana Lahale - Elyanna (this girl's vocals I swear. I knew it from the start, a look into your eyes could hypnotize my beating heart)

9- Taking Chances - Celine Dion (this woman's vocals are always 11/10, so beat it Spiderman)

10- Help Me Make It Through The Night - Sammi Smith (a legend of country, amazing woman, gorgeous vintage sounds)

THANKS AGAIN FOR TAGGING!!!!!

I'm tagging back...... @radwildflowers @wontshaveforu @fullmetalbee @feministclassicist I hope you have a fun and musical time doing this tag! 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Music Tag Game!

Got tagged in this by a bunch of people, latest one was @ragnarockz Thank you luv!

Shuffle your On Repeat Playlist and list the first 10 songs that come up!

Goth - Sidewalks and Skeletons

Cleopatra - The Lumineers

Unwritten - Natasha Bedingfield

Ribs - Lorde

JOYRIDE - Ke$ha

Take Me Out - Franz Ferdinand

Maroon - Taylor Swift

Von Dutch - Charli xcx

Light of Love - Florence + the machine

Femininomenon - Chapell Roan

Tagging @fuckyeah-dragrace @thecollectionsof @sweetlikesunflowersandhoney @stayevildarling @isle-of-earle @rialitysworld @ladyqueerfoot <3

[ispeakforthetrees19]

Puck Me

Summary: Hockey Player Levi and Figure Skating Coach Reader make a bet...who will win?

A/N: I can't stop writing this and I'm having too much fun with it to enjoy it alone. I suck shit at fancy Tumblr HTML and theme, but here it is.

This story is based on some of my own experiences as a figure skater. This will eventually feature smut, and I will update the tags as I go. I may update again this weekend. Thanks to my beta @nilfgaardianleviosa, as always.

Cross posted to AO3.

Tags: Levi Ackerman/Reader, AU-Modern Setting, Hockey Player Levi Ackerman, Figure Skater and Coach Reader, Enemies to Lovers, You know where this is going, this will be explicit in the future, 2nd person POV, female reader.

TW: bad words, fuckboys

Words: 2.7k

Chapter 1: Teaching Tots

You step out onto the ice with Petra, fresh and smooth after the Zamboni cleaned up from morning sessions. You bend your ankles, testing your laces to make sure they’re tight enough, and start skating around the rink, warming up against the cold air.

You do some basic footwork and finally you feel warm enough to take off your jacket, leaving you in leggings and a form-fitting long-sleeve shirt. Petra is at the boards when you skate up to hang your jacket on the side; she has her foot up, stretching out her hamstrings.

Public ice is pretty dead today, maybe ten or fifteen people in rental skates starting to get on and wobble their way around the ice as they cling to the wall. You smile at the toddler bravely making their way out to the center, holding onto the PVC pipe support that kids use to stay upright. His mom calls out to him, begging him to come back to where she can’t leave the wall, too unstable in the mediocre skates with limited ankle support.

“Wanna run through jumps?” Petra asks, smiling at you with her big, hazel eyes.

You shrug. “Sure.”

You and Petra each claim a side of the ice, doing crossovers to gain speed, running through your single jumps in order, then your doubles. You’re warm now, and you take off your shirt, grateful for the cool air to hit your arms and shoulders uncovered by the tank top you have underneath.

“Fuck, my double lutz is kicking my ass,” Petra complains as she finds her way next to you. “I just can’t get enough oomph on the entrance.”

“That’s because your toe picks are weak as fuck,” you laugh, pointing to her blades. “They aren’t big enough to really dig in and get you the momentum you need to get your ass in the air.”

“But your blades are so expensive,” Petra whines, looking down at your skates.

“Black Friday still happens for figure skaters,” you remind her. “It’s almost the holidays, why not put it on your Christmas list? Not like your dad can say no to you anyway.”

Petra laughs and pushes your shoulder. “Maybe I will. Hey, are you working on your triples?”

You grimace and shake your head. “A little. Waiting for the bruises on my hips to subside before I bruise them again.”

Petra’s about to respond when you hear loud voices whooping from across the ice. You turn to look at the hockey team getting on the ice and roll your eyes.

“God, the Titans,” Petra mutters. “Don’t they have practice later?”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Tell me you aren’t already drooling over Ackerman being on the same sheet of ice as you.”

Her cheeks light up pink, and she shakes her head furiously. “No! It’s just—ugh, he’s so distracting.”

You laugh at her embarrassment, pulling her wrist to drag her away from the boards. “Come on, let’s work on our jumps before they take over the whole ice running drills.”

Petra pouts but follows, and you both run through some more doubles before the hockey team starts running exercises, tearing through the ice with their abrupt stops and deep edges.

Eventually, you give up trying to squeeze in practice and just skate around the rink with Petra, staying out of the hockey players’ way.

“I’m annoyed,” Petra pouts. “I wanted your help on my double axel.”

You shrug. “They’ll get off like thirty minutes before practice so they can gear up.”

“But the ice will be ruined!” Petra whines.

You laugh at her valid complaints. “Well, if you can learn to land a double axel on shitty ice, think about how well you’ll do in competition with fresh ice.”

Petra visibly debates your logic for a moment before nodding. “I can try.”

You’re about to suggest a break for hot chocolate and a protein bar when you hear, “Oh shit!” and something solid collides into you.

Arms wrap around your waist, and you turn mid-fall, your back pressed against firm muscle of someone’s chest as you go sliding across the ice.

“What the fuck?” you ask as the arms release you to roll onto the ice.

You look over to see Levi Ackerman himself, captain of the hockey team, groaning as he pulls himself off the ice. “For someone who looks as good as you do in tights, you sure weigh more than you look.”

You sit up, glaring at his smug expression. “Excuse me?”

“Just saying,” he mutters, getting to his feet. He extends a hand out to you to help you up and you swat it away, getting up yourself.

“Can you watch where the fuck you’re going?” you ask him bitterly.

“Can you? You know we’re running drills,” Levi says, crossing his arms at your rejection of his assistance.

“I was skating forward! You hit me from behind!” you protest. “How am I supposed to watch out when you sneak up on me?”

“Pay attention, princess,” Levi says mockingly. “It’s not just your ice.”

You’re absolutely fuming, ready to unleash on him, when you feel Petra’s hand on your arm.

“Are you okay?” she asks, noticing the snow in your hair.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, looking away from Levi’s piercing blue eyes. “Jackass knocked me off my feet.”

“Jackass?” Levi questions, irritation shining through his expression.

“Yeah,” you say emphatically. “Jackass. I think it’s perfect to describe you. Or do you prefer Captain Jackass?”

“Bitch,” he mutters, skating away back to his team who are carefully watching the interaction.

“Fucking hockey players,” you grumble to Petra, who loops her arm through yours as you start to skate around the rink again. “Think they own the ice. It’s not even time for their practice and they’re running drills, terrorizing the public skaters.”

“Yeah,” she says, unconvincingly. “Jerks. But hey, at least he broke your fall, right?”

You turn to look at her, mouth parted open in shock. “Seriously? He slammed into me from behind and you’re giving him brownie points for not knocking me unconscious?”

“Well,” Petra says sheepishly. “I saw him turn so that he fell against the ice and didn’t fall on top of you. He was going pretty fast.”

You press your mouth into a line, shaking your head. “You’re a simp, you know that? An Ackerman simp. He could burn this rink down and you’d still justify it, fawning over him.”

Petra protests and you giggle at her poorly crafted excuses. You shake your head, pulling her off the ice to the lobby, where it’s warm and loud.

“Hey,” your boss says, waving at you from the rental counter. “I know it’s not your day for Learn to Skate, but we need coverage on Saturday. Can you do it?”

“Miche, come on!” you whine, sighing dramatically. “I work two of the three sessions every week. Tuesdays and Thursdays. One day more than my contract actually says, because I’m so generous and nice.”

“It’s just the tots,” he says, eyes pleading.

“Miche, no!” you exclaim, unable to help the smile spreading across your face. “You know I hate teaching the little ones.”

“Come on,” he says. “I booked a trip out of town for Nanaba and I’s anniversary and I totally forgot she’s on Saturday rotation. Please, help me woo my wife and preserve my marriage.”

“Miche, you’re really a piece of work,” you sigh. “You know I can’t say no to helping my coach.”

“I knew there was a reason you’re Nanaba’s favorite,” he says with a smile. “Thank you so much!”

“You owe me!” you call over your shoulder, walking over to the viewing bench. “Man, I can’t believe I have to cover the tots. I hate that shit.”

“But they’re so cute,” Petra protests.

You groan at her utter betrayal. “No, they aren’t! They fall and cry, and cry and fall, for almost an hour. It’s horrible. I finally worked my way out of teaching tots.”

“It’s just one Saturday,” Petra consoles. “Plus, I’m on Saturdays too! We can get lunch after.”

You pout your lips out at her. “Fine. We can get lunch.”

Your blood is pumping as you skate down the rink, edges ripping into the ice as you precisely carve delicate swirls with your blades. Loud techno music plays over the speakers as you skate, all in perfect synchronicity with the other skaters as you do footwork.

“Faster!” Coach Pixis is sitting on the boards at the side of the rink, sipping from a water bottle that certainly isn’t filled with water.

You reach the goal line and circle back to run the same footwork back down the way you came. Power class continues like this for another twenty minutes until Pixis finally dismisses you, calling it “slightly less than abysmal this time”.

As he swings his legs over the boards to walk back to the lobby, you collapse onto the ice, chest heaving. Your best friend peers at you from where she stops beside you, eyes curious.

“You alright?” she asks, out of breath herself. Petra’s face is flushed after thirty minutes of on-ice cardio.

“So...sweaty,” you groan, enjoying the feeling of the cold against your overly warm skin. “Cold feels good.”

“You’re in a tank top, you’ll get ice burn if you don’t get up,” Petra chides. “Come on, it’s almost time for hockey practice anyway.”

You reach up a hand and she pulls you to your feet. You brush the snow off of your leggings and tell her you’ll catch up, grabbing your jacket and water bottle from the boards.

The hockey players spill onto the ice, immediately skating laps at high speed forward and backward around the rink, warming up. You purse your lips, annoyed that they couldn’t wait another fifteen seconds for you to grab your shit and get off, instead making it nearly impossible for you to reach the exit closest to the coach’s room, meaning you now have to walk around the entire rink from the bench.

You decide to wait them out, annoyed with their crappy behavior. You lean against the boards, your things in your arms, for the full five minutes, watching them, making eye contact, waving at one or two that you know.

They run laps until Commander Erwin calls for them to line up on the blue line in front of him. When he does, you leisurely skate behind the group of men to get off at the exit you wanted.

They all turn around to watch you, evidently surprised you didn’t chew them out like usual for doing this. You smile at them, your eyes finding Levi’s from where he’s smirking at you. You raise an eyebrow at him and exit the ice, feeling him watch you until you disappear behind the bleachers.

Petra is inside the coach’s room already, unlacing her skates as she sits in her assigned chair. You sit in your spot next to her, following suit.

“Ugh, did you see Levi?”

You roll your eyes at Petra’s simpering expression and wide, hazel eyes.

“Why are you such a simp for him? For any hockey player? They’re dicks and they smell bad,” you complain.

“Not Levi,” she says with a dreamy look on her face. “Remember? He helped me when I cut my hand.”

“He wrapped a dirty hockey rag around your hand and told you to stop bleeding on his ice,” you say flatly. “He’s not exactly a knight in shining armor.”

Petra continues on, dithering about how Levi is, in fact, kind of an asshole but if you look past his harsh words, sour attitude, huge ego, and generally rude demeanor, there’s probably a decent guy in there. Yeah, okay.

You slip on your tennis shoes and pull Petra out to the lobby, grabbing a Gatorade and a protein bar from the concession stand.

“Let’s sit on the bleachers,” Petra says, trying to be nonchalant.

“Because we don’t spend enough time here, let’s go watch the hockey players on our break?” you ask sarcastically.

But it’s hard to say no to Petra, with her wide eyes and pouty lips. So you cave, agreeing to go sit on the bleachers, grateful for the cool metal against your back as you lay against the bench. Petra sits at attention, watching the players skate up and down the ice, practicing formations and plays.

“He’s looking over here!” she practically squeals.

You roll your eyes, scrolling through Spotify for a bass-laden playlist to mentally prepare for spending an hour with the tots later this morning.

There’s a loud crash against the boards and you jump, nearly falling off the bench. You shoot up, glaring at the plexiglass, behind which stands a smug Levi Ackerman, smirking at you. He raises an eyebrow at you and shrugs, feigning innocence. How mature, hitting the boards to startle you.

Petra gives you a sidelong glance, a slight furrow in her brows as you roll your eyes at Levi who’s wiggling the fingers in his glove in a semblance of wave. For which you return a middle finger, setting off a round of laughs between his teammates.

You look over at her with a raised eyebrow, wondering what she’s so concerned about, but she shakes her head and turns back to face the ice, eyes watching intently as they start running drills.

Later, you teach the tots a fun fishing game, where they pull out fish from the ‘pond’ you drew on the ice with a marker, and then you teach them how to skate away according to the type of fish they caught. It’s nearly time to go, and the class has been surprisingly smooth.

However, as your last student pulls out a “big fish! So big and scary!”, and you all skate backwards away from it, doing swizzles on their unsteady little feet, your smallest skater falls.

Oh fuck, here we go.

He looks up at you with wide eyes, lip trembling as he clutches his hand to his chest. He’s two feet tall, you know he’s fine, but he thinks he’s hurt, so you let out a quiet sigh and kneel next to him.

“Oh bud, that was a big fall,” you say empathetically, pulling off your gloves and taking his ‘injured’ hand between yours. “You did great though.”

“I did?” he asks tearfully, clearly wanting to have a huge meltdown but also wanting to hold it together to earn your praise.

“You did,” you confirm with a nod. “You know what I do when I hurt myself from falling? I take a big deep breath, and I shake the ouch out. Have you ever done that?”

He shakes his head no, eyes wide, and you smile at him, a little charmed by his chubby cheeks.

“Hey, isn’t that the chick you nearly took out on public the other day?” Eren nods to the ice as he throws his bag over his shoulder coming out of the locker room. “Is she a coach?”

Levi looks over and sees you kneeling down on the ice, holding the hands of a tot who must have taken a fall. He watches you shake out your hands, and the little boy imitates you. You throw your head back to laugh at the boy’s enthusiasm, quickly wiggling his whole body, and take his hand to pull him back to the other tots who have been watching curiously.

You lead them in a line that snakes around the designated area until you reach the door of the rink, making sure they all get off and into the waiting arms of their parents.

He catches your eye, thinking about how pretty you look when you aren’t flipping him off or cussing him out. You give him a hesitant smile before you’re pulled into a conversation with one of the parents.

Eren is looking at him, mouth open as he watches Levi watch you. “Uh, hello?”

Levi looks at him blandly. “Yeah, yeah. She must be a coach if she’s teaching Learn to Skate.”

Eren raises an eyebrow at him. “You look like you’re down bad. For a figure skating coach, of all people.”

“Fuck off, Yeager,” Levi says, pushing him into the wall as he heads for the doors.

[mattscoquette]

rylees christmas ౨ৎ ࣪ ˖

stole this idea from @chrisweetheart bc it was just so sweet :(

@55sturn MY STAR GIRL !!!!! my first tumblr friend <33 i am so so grateful for you, i am so thankful every time you’ve ever helped me with something i was writing, or even giving an opinion on something so small 😭 u are so kind and so talented and i am so so so happy we are friends !!!

@mattybsgroupie my gf. i love you so so so so much you are so sweet and funny and i’m so happy to be your friend:)) you’re truly such a talented writer and i love talking to you everydayyy

@sirenedeslily my minnie girly <33 u are the sweetest girl EVER. i love talking with u abt literally anything, i literally love ur blog sm and i giggle and kick my feet every time i remember we’re friends 🤭

@mattsdolll EMMA !!!! u are the cutest thing everrrr i love u so so much <333 srsly i will talk to you about anything and everything and i will love it, i love when u text ab stuff going on in ur life bc it’s just so fun to talk with u ab 😭😭😭 ur blog is so cute ur srsly like my coquette matt twin

@sweetangelgirl7 my queeeennn ilysm 🤭🤭 you are by far one of my best friends on this app i love uuu !!! i know i can srsly text u ab literally anything and you will always respond. i’m so happy we’re friends bc i literally love ur blog sm

@sturnioz cas !!! when i think of people who need to literally take up writing as a profession you are the first one in my head. you are so talented and so kind and i just love your blog. i know we don’t talk super often but ur genuinely one of my favorite mutuals

@chrisweetheart liaaaaa my sweet girl !!! u are so cute ur srsly like my little sister i love uuuu🤍🤍🤍 i love ur blog so much it is seriously so cute like i just love it. you’re rlly one of the sweetest people i know on here and i appreciate u sm !!

@bernardsbendystraws rosieee !! we just started talking again but i’m so glad, you’re so funny and i love how you always keep it real LOL. ur writing is srsly so talented and im obsessed w ur doll!reader au 🤭🤭

& literally all of my other friends and mutuals !! even if i don’t tag u just know i am SO appreciative and grateful :) i cannot tell u how many times ive thought ab leaving this app but decided to stay because of my friends 🤍🤍 and when i say friends i mean mutuals, people i interact with, anons, literally everyone !! i love u guys all so so much thank u for making tumblr so fun im so excited to see what 2025 brings me <3

[celestialspark]

Oh my, thank you for the tag!

last song: 14-moji no Dengon by Linked Horizon

favorite color: Pink and blue~

last movie: Uh ... the Sailor Moon Cosmos movies!

last book: Under the Oak Tree Vol. 8 - finally finished it and definitely dropping the series now :')

last show: The Imperial Doctress, a C-Drama that I do not recommend :( Currently watching Your Sensibility, My Destiny, another C-Drama that seems more fun!

sweet/spicy/savory: Depends but definitely not spicy

relationship status: Single

last thing i googled: The god damn reading of 硝子 - what do you mean it's garasu? Revo Japanese please ...

current obsession: Still locked in on to my OCs and their story ... I've started writing snippets for their children now although the main story is not finished yet :')

looking forward to: The moment I can inflict my OCs' stories on everyone >:) I've started with the commissions but you'll get comics from me again

tagging: Only if you want to, but: @talvenhenki @thisisworsethanitlookslike @lilyskybean @davi-doo @pjarox @dennydraws

Ten people I’d like to get to know better

tagged by @quiteboared

last song : Youth by Lee Know from Stray Kids

fav colour: lavender

last movie: Mufasa (watched it yesterday, ngl not the best movie very predictable T-T)

last book: Ballad of Sword and Wine book 3

last show: arcane season 2 (obsessed oh my god might start writing some jayvic to fill that hole in my heart like every other doomed yaoi )

sweet/spicy/savoury: spicy all the way and sometimes savoury. don’t like sweets at all

relationship status: forever one sided

last thing i googled: “side effects and treatment for a concussion” kim dokja be going through it

current obsession: where do i even begin T-T (orv, arcane, ouran high school host club,skk, qjj and link click) (consumption of art is my purpose in life)

looking forward to: i wanna say link click s3 but recent events make me a little scared to say that. let’s go with releasing this new fic i’ve been working on for a while. it’s a bit different from my usual work so i’m excited!

This was fun, thanks for tagging me!

Hope y’all don’t mind the tag, don’t feel pressured! @you-can-be-what-you-want-to-be, @lyrebirb , @why-i , @nelkey , @starlight-in-a-bottle , @convenientlybookish

[mrsarnold]

prompt 25 w kk arnold and i’ll give you head

025. merry Christmas and a happy new year! . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

syn : christmas day with KK

pair : kk arnold x reader

warn : fluffy fluff

note : happy last dsy of advent 😞

The snow fell in soft flakes outside, blanketing the streets in a pristine white. Inside the cozy warmth of your shared apartment, the faint hum of holiday music played in the background as the scent of gingerbread cookies wafted through the air.

“Alright,” KK called from the living room, her voice filled with playful determination. “You ready to lose again?”

You stepped out of the kitchen, drying your hands on a towel. KK was standing in front of the mini basketball hoop she had hung over the door, spinning the foam ball on her finger like the star athlete she was. She wore an oversized Christmas sweater with a reindeer on it, paired with sweatpants that barely stayed on her hips.

“You’ve won every game so far,” you protested, crossing your arms. “How about you let me win this one?”

KK laughed, her smile lighting up the room. “Where’s the fun in that? Gotta keep you on your toes, babe.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling as she tossed the ball your way. “Fine. One more round. But if I win, you’re doing the dishes.”

“And if I win,” she countered, raising an eyebrow, “you make me hot chocolate. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The game was competitive, filled with laughter, playful banter, and plenty of dramatic “trash talk” on KK’s end. Despite your best efforts, she sank the winning shot effortlessly, throwing her hands up in triumph.

“Still undefeated!” she cheered, doing a little victory dance that had you doubling over in laughter.

“Alright, alright,” you conceded, shaking your head. “I’ll make your hot chocolate. But don’t think this is over!”

As you moved back to the kitchen, KK followed, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind. Her cheek pressed against yours as she whispered, “You’re a good sport, you know that?”

“Don’t push your luck, Arnold,” you teased, but your smile betrayed you.

Once the hot chocolate was ready, the two of you curled up on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket. The lights on the Christmas tree twinkled softly, casting a warm glow over the room. KK took a sip of her drink and sighed contentedly.

“This is nice,” she said, glancing over at you. “Christmas with you.”

You leaned into her, your heart swelling. “It’s perfect.”

KK reached into her pocket, pulling out a small box wrapped in red and gold paper. “I got you something,” she said shyly, holding it out to you.

Your eyes widened as you carefully unwrapped it, revealing a simple yet stunning necklace with a small basketball charm.

“I know how much you support me,” she said, her voice soft. “I wanted you to have something that shows how much you mean to me. You’re my MVP, always.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked at her. “KK, this is… I love it. Thank you.”

She grinned, pulling you closer. “Merry Christmas, mama.”

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss her.

The night was filled with warmth, laughter, and love—a holiday you’d both cherish forever.

tags : @kamii-2 -2 @thaatdigitaldiary @sierrale8ne @pboogerswbb @st4rrzynight @yannasuniverse @heart4caitlin @latenighttalkinqwp @sweetluna20 @janaelalfysblunt @cosmopretty

[hinamie]

happy gojoday to all who celebrate

[anoant-haikyuu-dump]

bunch of headshot requests ft. a new textured brush