#bauble shots

[baublekute]

[captain-fflewddurfflam]

A bear named Bauble? Scanlan says it's the most useful bear he's ever seen?

Sam and Taliesin are going for Vex and Trinket's throats with this one lol

[mochie85]

Laced Intentions

One-Shots Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: You try to seduce your new lover with lingerie that he can't resist. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: 3.2K Warnings: SoftDom!Loki, jealous Loki, hand works, slight degradation, rough seggs, lots of thrusting, fluff, happy ending (as always). A/N: Thor, Steve, and Bucky make a brief appearance. This fic was inspired by a TikTok I saw by Delacruz Collections. Check out their store. Or their TikTok. GIF of the actual set after fic. Dividers: @firefly-graphics

You needed to hurry. Loki had texted you saying he would be home soon, and you had to finish getting all the little straps tightened and make sure that everything was secured. Tonight was going to be the night.

You and Loki had just started this relationship and have yet to do anything more than heavy petting and heated make-out sessions. You knew it was because he was cautious around you. He was scared that he didn’t know his own strength. He could get lost in the moment and unknowingly hurt you.

You told him that it was ok. You trusted him. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you purposely. Even so, you wouldn’t mind it being a little rough. Especially if he was the one commanding you and your body. But he wouldn’t relent.

You’ve seen the way he looks at you. The way his eyes devour every inch of your body. Licking his lips and rubbing his neck. You knew he ached for you. Just as much as you craved him.

He said so himself one night, as you straddled his lean frame and pushed him down on your bed. You had his hard dick in your hand, stroking him up and down, as you rubbed it against your needy clit. The pulsing veins on his hard cock kissing your wet lips, tantalizing your release. “…f-fuck…don’t stop, pet,” he panted. His eyes rolled back as his head sunk further into the pillow.  

“Baby…I need you inside me,” you whimpered as you continued to stroke him closer and closer to his release.

“Oh, gods! I want nothing more than to be inside you,” he said, his eyes closed from the exquisite torture you were giving him. He didn’t see you line yourself up over him. His leaking tip, red from need, eagerly crying to be inside you.

But Loki was quick. In an instant, he pinned you down on the bed before you could sink yourself onto his throbbing length. Both of your hands were suspended above your head in one of his strong grips. He continued to grind himself against you, making you cry out his name.

“Ah, ah, ah. Naughty little thing. I told you we can’t.”

“But you said-” he kissed you fiercely, making you forget the rest of your words as he expertly made you cum from his grinding alone.

You sighed at the memory.  Loki is such a passionate lover hiding underneath false notions of your fragility. You rolled your eyes at your many attempts to seduce him and convince him that you are not as fragile as he thinks you are. You can take whatever he wants to give you. And God did you wish he would give it all to you!

So when you first saw this lingerie masterpiece of sex and eroticism, you were left speechless. You clenched your thighs just imagining what Loki would do to you when he saw you in it. Green satin straps and ribbons were constructed and held together by gold hooks and clasps. The garter and cuffs were attached by a dainty gold chain, leading back to a central choker on your neck. Each strand was decorated with small baubles of crystal that sparkled under the light, connecting all the pieces to you. You only hoped that the links would survive his rough hands. It was rather pretty and you’d hate to see it broken.

You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror before you heard the latch of the front door. He was finally home! You put on your silk robe, leaving it untied so he can see a peek of what was underneath, and you walked out of your bedroom.

The clack of your heels echoed in the hallway, announcing your arrival. The first person you spotted was Loki. His eyes met yours and then traveled down your body in the most ravenous way possible. The beer he was about to put against his lips, forgotten. As were the words in his mouth. You stood at the threshold, surprised to see that Loki wasn’t alone. It was only now you registered the other voices and laughter you heard only seconds too late.

The room went quiet as you noted the other people in the kitchen. Steve, Bucky, and Thor, each with their own pizza box in front of them, had gone quiet. Watching you in shock. You were thankful you had put on your robe, at least, even though it was still open. Everyone could see what you were wearing underneath.

Oh fuck, you thought. Well, there’s no point hiding now. Smiling with fake bravado, you greeted Loki home. “Welcome home, handsome,” you said giving Loki a chaste kiss on his lips. “I didn’t know we were having company over. I’ll go change.” You smiled and turned to walk away.

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Gentlemen,” you smiled and nodded.

“Bye Y/N.” The trio said in unison as you walked back into the bedroom to change.

Brief silence overtook the room as the men’s eyes darted between a stunned Loki and where you escaped to. “Listen, if you don’t go in there right now…” Steve pointed to your bedroom. “I will personally take Bucky’s arm off and beat you with it!” Steve threatened.

“Or, you know…I could go in there.” Bucky offered, earning a snarl from Loki’s lips.

“Leave! Now!” Loki ordered.

“Right. See ya tomorrow,” Steve said with a casual salute.

“Pfft! Knowing my brother, he will most likely take all night, and all day tomorrow too.” Thor laughed as he gathered his pizza box and a six-pack of beer.

Bucky just laughed, punching Loki in the shoulder. “Let’s go to Sam’s. That guy doesn’t have a sex life.” He said to the others.

Loki stood there, still trying to process what he saw, as each man clapped his shoulder in parting. The creak and latch of the front door closing brought Loki back to his present mind.

He stalked down the hallway, following the subtle hint of your perfume. He inhaled deeply, your scent driving him mad.

The first thing he saw when he opened the bedroom door was your robe, discarded on the bed. He followed your gentle humming into the closet where you stood looking through your sundresses. Loki quietly walked in, blocking your escape. He noted your skin, radiant and perfect, complimenting the shiny satin of the straps holding you together. Loki’s eyes followed the gold chain that dripped from your neck down to the garters and matching cuffs they hooked onto.

“That was quite a show parading into the room like that,” he said in your ear. His whispered breath tickled you, making you shiver.

“I didn’t know we would have company. Let me just pick a dress and I’ll join you shortly.”

“Will you continue to wear this underneath?” he teased, knowing full well that everyone had already left. His breath fanned the side of your face. His fingers ghosted over the ribbons, tracing them down your hips.

You craved his touch, patiently waiting for him to connect to your body. “Touch me, please” you prayed.

“Oh, and why should I give in to your requests, kitten? You’ve been awfully naughty.” His hands continued to eclipse your body. You could feel the heat from his palms traveling up and down, tracing the many straps and where they lead to. You closed your eyes at the sensation. The anticipation. Loki was a master at building you up.

“I…I didn’t know…this was only meant for you,” you whined.

“I think you did know,” Loki scoffed. “I think you wanted to make me jealous.” His voice got deeper. More dangerous. “So jealous that I would have to claim you. Is that what you want, darling? For me to claim you in front of the others? So desperate to have my cock inside you that you would parade yourself in this seductive little number so that I might take action. You should’ve seen the way Barnes was looking at you.”

“Loki, I-”

“Hands up.” He commanded and you obeyed quickly, holding on to the bar that hung all your clothes. Loki kicked your heels apart, spreading you open, and making you bend at the waist. He placed himself behind you.  His palm spanked you on your right side making you scream out and moan. It didn’t hurt. It never hurt with Loki.

“You were so brazen. Only I get to see you like this. Do you understand?” he charged as you heard the buckle of his belt loosen, the zipper of his pants being opened. He grabbed your hair gently and pulled you back to him.

“I was only trying to surprise you. I didn’t know they would be here!” you moaned as you fought hard not to bite your lip. His fingers finally caress the pulse point of your neck, trailing down to the valley of your breast. His hands got caught in the chains and you can hear the soft clink of them breaking in his grasp.

He cupped your sex, making you mewl to his touch. “This is mine, and mine alone!”

“Yours…” you sighed.

“Again!” he said dipping his agile fingers inside you.

“Yours…sir,” you said barely above a whisper. Loki closed his eyes, savoring your submission.

“Oh, you are sinful!” Loki said, his resolve breaking. “I try to be good. I try to protect you from me. But you seem hell-bent on breaking me don’t you, kitten?” His lips crashed into yours. He sucked on your lower lip as his fingers continued to work your clit.

You pushed back against him, feeling his hard erection against your back. “Please…Loki…sir.”

Loki grunted in defeat. He took a deep breath and looked straight into your eyes.  “If we do this, kitten, I can’t promise that I’ll be gentle. I’m scared I won’t be able to stop once I have you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can never hurt me, Loki.” You tried to shine your love through, showcasing how much trust you had for him.

He turned you to face him, capturing your lips in a strong but zealous kiss. He spoke in between teeth and tongue, your breath mingling with his, “If it gets too much, tell me.”

“It won’t be too much,” you tried to reassure him.

“You will tell me!” he growled, backing you out of the closet and into your bedroom.

“I’ll tell you. I promise,” you assured, looking deep into his ocean eyes.

“Good!” With that one word, he picked you up by your upper things and carried you towards the bed. You wrapped your legs around his waist as his fingers toyed with the garters gripping your thighs.

“This is beautiful, kitten,” he breathed. His cock struggling in between your pressed bodies. His teeth found purchase on the skin of your shoulder. “All wrapped up for me like a little present.” He threw you, almost carelessly, on the bed. You preened at how easily he was able to manhandle you. How effortlessly he was able to manipulate your body. You watched him take his shirt off, exposing the hard planes of his abs. The definition of his lean muscle guiding your eyes down to his exposed cock.

You felt the bed dip when he knelt in front of you. He pumped himself, once. Twice, before he teased your entrance with his stiff girth. “Loki, please. Don’t tease me.”

“Like the way you teased me with this?” he pinched the gusset of your thong and let it go, snapping the fabric on your overstimulated folds. It stung with painful pleasure as you cried out. He pushed the gusset to the side as he eased himself inside you. First, his massive tip, pulling it in and out. Teasing you relentlessly of what’s to come. Then, inch by inch, he sheathed himself inside you. Filling your walls.

Loki lost his sanity. To finally be inside you. Inside your warmth and your passion. To be surrounded by your scent and your moans, he couldn’t handle it and he was slowly going feral with each inch he fed your eager cunt. When he bottomed out, you cried as his pelvic bone rutted against your sensitive nub.

“You feel so good, pet. Better than I had ever imagined,” he said breathlessly as he started thrusting. His fingers curved around your supple thighs, bruising marks of purple and blue. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe. Each gasp of air only fueled your desire for him even more. He felt so good.

So. Damn. Good.

With each stroke he would take his tip to your entrance, stretching you, and then push back inside. Loki filled you like no one has done before, and most likely never will.

“Awe, my poor darling-” thrust. “What’s the matter?” thrust. “Have I rendered you speechless?” thrust. “I thought this was what you wanted?” You nodded your head, whimpering like an untouched virgin.  He spread his thighs further apart on the bed, pushing your knees closer to your chest, to receive him deeper. He held your shoulders down, your body sinking into the silken mattress, keeping you immobile and unable to escape the onslaught of his hard cock.

“You’re going to be good for me, right kitten? You’re going to take all of me in.” He commanded, his voice barely above a whimper. Loki was going to lose it soon and he knew it. You felt so good around him. All it would take was a few more strong thrusts and he would scream out your name to the heavens.

With his new position over you, he started diving faster. More aggressive. He pushed himself further inside you. Down to his hilt, sheathing himself inside your heated folds. “Loki!” you yelled out. You grabbed hold of his arms, your nails digging into his skin leaving half-moon marks. You squeezed his cock tighter, and you were rewarded with the deepest, most beautiful, feral sound coming from his lips.

“Ah- fuck! That’s it pet, squeeze me. Gods, you feel so good. I might just have to leave myself inside you.   -heh- Would you like that, kitten?” thrust. “Want to be my cock warmer?” thrust. “Keep me cozy all night?” thrust.

You simply nodded your head. You knew Loki asked you a question, but you couldn’t make sense of anything right now besides the feel of his hard length stretching you open, over and over again.

“I asked you a question, darling,” he said grabbing your chin and squeezing your lips to pout. “I made you into a little cock-slut haven’t I?” thrust. “Can’t seem to think at all can you?” thrust.

“…Loki…” you called out with each slam of his hips.

“That’s all right. As long as it’s my name you’re calling out. My name that you’re begging for.” Loki looked down at you. Your skin was aglow from the beads of sweat and pleasure. Your hair was a crown above you tangled in a mess. And your lips had captured one of his fingers still holding onto your chin, sucking it down to the webbing of his hand.

With a pop, he took his finger out of your mouth and drew it down your neck, leaving a cold trail on your heated skin. “I’ll have use of those talents later, my dear.” Loki laid his weight on top of you, caging your head in between his arms. His sweet lips sucked hard on your salted skin leaving you crying out for more. Your hands were left clawing his back as he grunted and moaned into your ear.

“I…I…can’t…Loki…youfeel…m’soclose…” you were incoherent. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t talk. The only thing on your mind was his name. “…Loki…”

“Cum for me, kitten. Cum with me,” he growled in your ear. Your whole body tightened up. You dug your nails deep into his back and screamed your release as he slammed himself down on you hard. He grunted his pleasure in your ear, releasing a savage growl that shook your body beneath him. The euphoric wave wouldn’t stop. Loki remained still, but you could feel him throbbing inside you, coating your walls, sending you spiraling into delirious bliss.

He remained on top of you, unable and unwilling to move away from your exquisite sex. The first thing you felt after coming down from your high was Loki’s soft lips on your neck. You turned and captured them with your own, pulling his weight further down onto you.

“Are you all right, darling.” He whispered tentatively. “Did I hurt you at all?”

“Wh-what do you mean? I feel so good, baby. You feel so good!” you said smiling.

“Was I too rough? I must’ve been. I can see my marks all over your neck.” Loki lifted himself off you and he found your lingerie shredded and clawed to pieces around your sheets. “Oh, darling. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I was worried this would happen. I didn’t mean to hurt you…” Loki started rambling.

“Hey, hey, hey.” You tried to quiet him down. “Loki, look at me! I’m not hurt. I feel wonderful.” You held his worried face in your hands and soothed his hair out of place. “Did you enjoy it?” you asked, and he nodded his head. He laid next to you, spooning you.

“Every second. Every thrust,” he said, burying his nose in your hair. “I just want to stay wrapped in your warmth forever. I don’t know why we waited so long.” You laughed at his admission. You lay there in his embrace, replaying the sinful moment in your head. Smiles on both your faces as you stole kisses from each other.

Until you remembered something. “Come on. The guys are probably sick of waiting for us,” you said trying to get out of bed.

“They left a while ago,” he finally confessed. Loki aggressively pulled you back onto the bed and into his arms. “I told them to leave as soon as you walked back in here to change,” he declared, straddling over you, pinning you back down on the bed.

“I’m afraid you’ve unleashed something in me, dear,” he said as he took one of your discarded ribbons and tied both your hands up with it. “Now, I did say that I was going to see to that mouth of yours, didn’t I?”

“Does Loki know you have a key to his apartment?” Bucky asked Thor.

“Of course he does. He’s my brother. He’s the one that gave me this key.” Thor said trying to act nonchalant.

“Come on guys. Grab the beer, and let’s go. I don’t want to miss the game.” Steve tried to hurry them. Thor opened the doors and all three men walked in looking for the forgotten twelve-pack that was left on the counter.

“Oh, Loki! Oh, fu-baby don’t stop. Don’t stop! Yes. Yes. YES!”

The three men paused hearing you scream from your bedroom. Steve blushed a strawberry red and walked right out the door.

“I just learned my lesson! Never come here uninvited.” Thor said shaking his head. He pocketed his key and followed Steve.

“Lucky bastard!” Bucky chuckled as he grabbed the beer and locked the door.

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine

[babydollmarauders]

TINSEL TIES — NICO HISCHIER

nico hischier x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which Nico finds a fun way to wait for the fire to die down

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, edging, light bondage, dominant Nico, praise, degradation, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), nipple play, fingering, p in v (unprotected). (3.9k words)

notes: welcome to day 1 of the 12 days of kinkmas! where i wrote most of these smuts in...not at all at christmas time! i’m so excited to share these holiday themed smuts with you all and i hope you enjoy!

an orange glow flickers over the living room, the soft tune of christmas music floating throughout the open space of the apartment.

my boyfriend and i stand in front of the christmas tree, meticulously draping ornaments from the prickly branches.

although it’s much too laborious to get a real tree amongst Nico’s schedule, he did agree to buy a fake one for the holidays. a beautiful faux tree that’s been sitting bare and untouched in our living room for far too long. but amidst his chaotic schedule, Nico and i have finally made the time to decorate it together on his night off.

“Neeks,” i speak gently, afraid to break the peaceful ambiance we’ve created in our home. “do you think the guys would come to a holiday party?”

the question is just the result of a fleeting thought; asked as i hang a silver bauble upon the tree, but a serene smile spreads across my boyfriend’s full lips, a glance of adoration shot my way.

“if they didn’t, i’d have them bag skating until they physically can’t get off the ice.” his response causes a soft huff of laughter to fall from my lips, shaking my head in amusement. “why? are you thinking of having a party?”

“no,” i drag out, joking sarcasm dripping from my words, “i was just curious.”

Nico levels me with a single raised brow, an unamused expression painting his face.

“yes, Neeks, i’m thinking of hosting a christmas party.” i tell him, gently hanging the next ornament as i speak, “i just feel like i don’t do enough. i mean, i’m the captain’s girlfriend; isn’t it kinda my job to host and fundraise and stuff?

“like, should i be making the team snacks or something? i don’t know how this works. is it like a soccer mom situation? should i be making protein shakes and sending apple slices with you to practices?”

my anxious ramble fades off as Nico’s hands come to rest upon my hips, pulling me towards him with an entertained smile.

“you don’t have to do any of that, süsse.” his forehead dips down, forehead pressing against mine, “although i wouldn’t mind some apple slices for myself.

“but if you would like to throw a christmas party, then we can do that.”

my arms wrap around, locking over the back of his neck and pulling him down until his lips meet mine. the kiss is sweet; soft and loving, as well as tasting faintly of store bought lofthouse cookies. when i pull back, his lips chase mine, eagerly trying not to let the moment fizzle, but i turn my eyes towards the tree, letting him lips land upon my cheek instead.

“i think it’s done.” i whisper, ignoring his aggravated groan at my rejection.

“we still have two more bags of ‘necessary’ decorations.” he reminds me, pointing over towards the armchair where a couple reusable grocery bags sit filled with various items that i had assured him we needed.

“okay, so i may have overbought.” my shoulders shrug lazily, my eyes rolling.

“you?” Nico questions sarcastically, gazing back down at me with an appalled look. “i bought them all. you just threw them in the cart.”

“and i obviously took my job very seriously, now we have extras for next year, if we decide to switch it up.”

my boyfriend untangles from my grasp, ducking under my arms to walk over to the bags of decor. he sticks his hand in, fishing out an unopened string of tinsel garland.

“what would we even use this for?” he huffs, glaring down at the sparkly red material in his hands.

“to put on the tree, obviously!”

Nico looks at me with a blank expression, his shoulders slumping as his eyes flicker from me to the tree and back.

“obviously.” his accent is thick and monotonous, obviously not charmed by my response. “but we didn’t use it at all.”

“well no, but we could find other uses for it!” i cheer, stalking over to try and pluck the tinsel from his grasp, but his grip on the package tightens. “like, maybe we could tie it somewhere in the apartment.”

his head snaps up from looking at the sparkly garland, eyes lighting up as he stares at me. “i think i have an idea.”

“yeah? what is it?” he throws the package on the coffee table, assuring me that we’ll use it later, before his eyes flit to the fireplace.

our fire is no longer what it once was when we started it around two hours ago. not yet dwindling but no longer blazing high and providing copious amount of heat.

“how long until the fire dies out?” i ask him, a small yawn pushing out of me. “maybe starting it so late wasn’t a good idea, i’m getting a bit tired; but we can’t leave it unattended.”

“if you’re that tired, i could watch it while you go to sleep.”

while i appreciate his kind sentiment, i shake my head, rather taking a seat on the couch instead.

“i don’t wanna sleep without you. besides, i can stay up. i’m not too tired.”

Nico sits beside me, pulling my thighs over his lap in one swift movement. one of his arms wraps around my waist, the other resting over my legs, his hand grasping at half my ass.

i lean forward, my chest pressing against his, and my neck cranes up, eyes gazing into his.

“kiss me.” i whisper, his head dipping down and his lips brushing lightly across mine.

“did you just tell me to kiss you?” he chuckles, pulling me forward to sit entirely in his lap.

“i did.” i confirm.

Nico leans forward, an arm wrapped around my waist to hold me to him as he grabs the package of tinsel from the coffee table.

as he leans back, he spins me around on his lap, my back towards his chest. i can hear the crinkle of plastic, furrowing my brows in confusion.

“what are you doing?” i laugh, attempting to peek over my shoulder.

“i told you i had an idea.”

“mhm,” i hum, “and what is it?”

“safe word?” my brows pull together again at his dismissal of my question.

“stoppen.” i recite the safe word, a german translation of ‘stop’ that he had taught me early in our relationship.

“good girl.”

his words spark a heat within me, blood rushing to my cheeks at his praise.

my arms are pulled behind my back, wrists held together with one of his own, before i feel the scratchy sensation of the tinsel being wrapped around them.

“Neeks,” my breathing picks up, chest rising and falling in quick succession as i feel him tie a knot in the garland.

i wiggle my hands, making sure the restraint isn’t too tight, and when i don’t complain, Nico pushes me up to stand on my feet. his hands spin my hips, my feet shuffling as i turn to face him.

“so pretty, süsse.” i can feel my face redden under his gaze, his gentle compliment causing fire to spread under my skin.

“thank you, Neeks.” my words are murmured softly, spoken as his hands drag along my sides.

his touch slips below my tank top, calloused fingertips smoothing along my heated skin and drawing goosebumps to the top of my flesh. a shaky breath passes my lips, his fingers dragging down until he reaches the waistband of my corduroy skirt.

“we don’t need this.” he tsk’s, popping the plastic button through the hole and letting the skirt pool to the floor around my feet.

cold air hits my now bare skin, my panties dampening as Nico’s hands rub along the sides of my thighs. he pulls me forward until i’m straddling a single leg, my panty covered core sitting on his muscular, jean clad thigh.

my lips part, eyes falling hooded as his hands grip my hips, guiding them back and forth on top of him.

“Nico,” i shudder, letting out a yelp as he smacks a hand against my ass.

“is that what you call me?” he gruffs, dark, lust filled eyes boring into mine.

his hands move my hips faster, his thigh tensing underneath me.

“Captain.” i whimper, my head tipping back as he bounces his leg lightly. a wet patch grows on the fabric of his jeans making him chuckle as i get wetter, my clit grinding down against him.

“soaking my leg like a whore.” he shakes his head as though he disapproves, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “what am i gonna do with you?”

blood rushes through my ears, drowning out the christmas music as i stare at my lover. his eyes are dark, pupils blown and his gaze stern; his thick, prominent eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches me grind along his leg.

the well groomed stubble that accentuates his face scruffs against my cheek as he leans forward, capturing my lips in a bruising kiss.

i moan into his lips, his tongue slipping through and pushing against mine as his hands hasten the pace of my hips.

my strangled gasp breaks our kiss, the fabric of my panties rubbing against my clit making climax approach faster.

“Cap, i’m gonna-” a knot tangles in my stomach, pressure building as my legs begin to shake and my eyes roll back into my head.

my hips are forcibly stopped, my fast approaching orgasm quickly diminishing as Nico holds my hips still. a whine falls from my lips, my eyes flying open to gauge him as pleads are babbled off my tongue.

“please, no, why?” i cry, the corner of my boyfriend’s lips quirking up in a smirk.

“let’s test your memory,” he starts, eyes glaring into mine, “last week, do you remember what you did?”

i rack my brain, filing through everything i did last week before i finally settle on what he’s referencing. sunday, right before his game against the Oilers, i sent him a video i had taken that morning; my fingers buried deep in my pussy, my breath heavy and whimpering as i moaned his name.

we’ve yet to have the chance for an intimate moment since he got back on monday, between his practices, my work schedule, and his game last night, but i had hoped he had forgotten about his promise to punish me for my actions.

“no, Nico, please.” i whine, my hands pulling at the restraints. his hands slip up, sliding over my breasts and letting his thumbs circle my stiffened nipples.

“beg all you want, süsse, i stand by my promises.” his voice is stern and unwavering, his fingers hooking over the top of my tank top.

he yanks the fabric down, my breasts spilling over until the shirt is so far down that it’s held underneath completely underneath them.

“you don’t get to cum until that fire dies down.” my head snaps over to survey the fire, its flame slowly fizzling out. i’d estimate at least another forty-five minutes or so until it’s done for good.

my breath catches in my throat as he takes me by surprise, his lips attaching to my right nipple as his left hand rolls the other between his fingers.

a high pitched moan mingles with the sound of ‘White Christmas’, my arms struggling against the tinsel ties, yearning to bury my fingers into his hair. my spine arches, pushing my breasts further into his face.

i can feel his growing smirk against my skin, his fingers pinching and rolling the left bud as his tongue swirls around the right before sucking it into his mouth.

he hums, the vibrations traveling through my body, and i make a hollow attempt at grinding my hips against his leg, only succeeding in reminding him to wrap his free hand around me, holding my hips still.

“Captain, please.” i plead, my tone high and nasal as i beg, but he just hums again, this time in disagreement.

his lips release my nipple, kissing his way over to the left before repeating the process, now pinching and prodding at the right in a torturous game of teasing.

he slowly begins to rock my hips back and forth, dragging my pulsing clit along his strained thigh as an extra stimulation.

my body shakes, overwhelmed with pleasure as my head falls back, vision going fuzzy as broken sounds fall from my lips.

i can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences, but my brain is urging for me to beg to cum, hoping he’ll show mercy on me. my requests come out babbled and stuttered, not nearly what i had hoped, and Nico chuckles against my skin.

my toes curl as the familiar tightening pressure builds backs up within my stomach, my abdomen clenching as my legs begin to shake. and when Nico doesn’t pull away, i begin to believe that he’s giving me compassion, but as quick as the thought enters my mind, its expelled out.

just as i reach the precipice of my release, my walls tightening around nothing, his lips are pulled away, his hand dropping from my nipple and his arms wrapping tightly around to halt my grinding movements.

frustrated tears pool in my eyes, a silent sob wracking my chest and expelling past my lips in puffs of air. looking back into my boyfriends eyes, his expression is cocky and unforgiving, a smirk resting on his lips.

“awww,” he coos, swiftly turning and dropping me on the couch cushions beside him. “you’re being a good girl now, aren’t you? desperate to cum.”

i nod my head eagerly, shifting around underneath his gaze as i lay uncomfortably atop of my tied back arms.

“wanna cum so bad!” i whimper, my eyes fleeting over to asses the once great fire. it’s next to nothing now, and when i look back at Nico, i can tell he’s displeased by the sight.

“alright, i’ll let you cum.” a weight is lifted off my chest, a sigh of relief huffing past my smiling lips.

i eye my boyfriend eagerly as his fingers tug at the waistband of my panties, pulling them down and dropping them to the floor. he sheds himself of his t-shirt, his tight upper body on full display for me to enjoy as he hooks one of my weakened legs over the back of the couch.

bowing down between my legs, i can feel his hot breath fan over my dripping core, squirming in need as he gets closer and closer to where i so desperately crave his touch. his eyes meet mine, holding contact as he blows cool air directly onto my puffy clit, and chuckling as my hips jerk up towards him.

his arms wrap around my upper thighs, hands sprawling across my lower hips to hold me down as he licks one long stripe through my core.

“captain!”

my head falls back into the cushions as i cry out his name, wishing i could thread my fingers in his hair and push him deeper to where i want him.

he dips down again, tongue circling my clit before sliding back down towards my pussy. his tongue prods into me, flicking once before he really dives in. my back arches from the cushions, breathy moans coaxed out as he begins eating me like a man starved.

his nose nudges against my clit, his fingers sliding up to hold my thighs in a bruising grip as he slurps at my wetness, spreading it around as lubrication.

“cap!” i scream as his lips enclose around my swollen clit, rolling it through his lips a few times before flicking his tongue against it. one leg hooks over his shoulder, pushing him forward as i’m finally able to grind my hips against his face.

relinquishing his duty of holding me still, he plunges two fingers inside of me, curling them up to hit the velvety spot that makes me scream out in pleasure. pumping them in and out, he scissors the appendages, stretching my entrance in a pleasurably painful sensation.

with his fingers keeping me full, his mouth focuses on my clit, repetitively sucking and licking. my eyes roll back in my head, my vision dancing with stars as i feel my orgasm build up for what i believe is the last time.

a third finger pushes its way inside of me, the burning sensation of fullness making my legs shake around him as my breath catches in my throat. my pussy tightens around his fingers, effectively making him aware that i’m close whilst i can no longer speak.

but just when i’m about to cum, my orgasm is cruelly ripped away once more, his fingers pulling out and leaving empty as his mouth is detached from my clit, nothing but cold air hitting against it now.

“no!” i yell, voice gravely and sore as tears flood from my eyes. i open them again to find Nico sitting up on his knees, staring down at me with a dangerous an mocking smirk.

“you didn’t really think i was gonna let you cum, did you, süsse?” he teases, his lips frowning in a faux pout. “oh, you did. the fire wasn’t done yet, sweets.”

my head snaps over towards the fire for the last time, and through the blurry vision of my tears, i can see the final dying embers of the fire, nothing but a faintly orange glow of the logs now.

my chest heaves as i look back at my boyfriend, my face dropped in a pout as salty tears trail down into my hair.

“that was mean, Nico!” i sob, looking anywhere but his eyes.

his cocky expression drops, a look of genuine concern etching across his face as he comes to hover above me.

“oh, baby,” he coos, littering short kisses on both of my cheeks before pressing a long one to my lips. “it’s okay, you can cum now.”

i sniffle, peering up at him through wet lashes, “really this time?”

“yeah, really. but, you know, if it ever becomes too much, you can use your safe word.” i nod along to his words.

“i know, but it wasn’t anything that was too much.” i confess, “it was just mean. you told me i could! and then you didn’t let me!”

“are your arms okay?” he wonders, and i crinkle my nose.

“they’re fine, but this position is uncomfortable.” he nods, backing away and helping me sit up before i whine, “can you just fuck me now?”

a hearty laugh leaves his lips at my switch up, leaning forward to pull me in for a kiss.

“you wanna cum on my cock like a good girl, süsse?” he mutters, pulling back to watch me hastily nod.

his hands grip my hips, flipping me over to lay on my stomach before pulling my hips up so my ass is up in the air.

i wait impatiently, eyes set on the last of the dying embers of the fire as i listen to him unbuckle his belt, pulling his pants down and letting them drop to the floor with a thud.

the couch cushions dip down as he kneels on them behind me, one hand gripping my hip as he uses the other to give a few tugs to his cock.

my hips jerk as he slides his cock through my folds, lubricating himself in my wetness. tapping the tip of his cock against my clit, i let out a breathy whine, pushing my pussy back towards him.

“greedy little slut.” he tsk’s, prodding my entrance with his tip and watching as my walls attempt to suck him in whilst i moan.

he repeats the movement a few more times, teasing me one last time before he finally pushes into me in one swift movement. a squeak passing my parted lips as his cock bottoms out inside of me, filling me up so well.

“oh, Nico!” i breathe out, my body lighting up as his hand smooths over my spine, before gripping my waist.

Nico groans, pulling out and then thrusting back in at a slow speed before gradually picking up the pace. my hands form fists, my nails digging into my palms as he controls my hips, slamming into me and pushing my hips forward before pulling them back against him.

the sound of our skin slapping together and his hard cock sliding in and out of my wet cunt mixes with breathy moans and deep grunts, as well as the christmas music that still floats through the apartment.

the tip of his cock hits the soft, spongey spot inside of me with each stroke, my eyes fluttering shut as i curse, screaming his name without any care of our neighbors hearing.

“this pretty pussy was made for me.” he gruffs, hands tightening around my hips as my walls clench around him, my breathing picking up as i wiggle my hips.

one of his hands slides around my front, his fingertip pressing against my clit and making me whimper as he fucks into me, rubbing the bundle of nerves in figure eights.

“Nico, please!” i beg, the all too familiar feeling of my impending orgasm looming over me as my stomach ties itself in knots.

my legs begin to shake, weakening, and i’m sure if Nico wasn’t holding me up, they would’ve given out.

“let go for me, sweets.” my walls clench at his words, attempting to keep him in the same position as my body seizes up, tensing as i finally reach my long awaited orgasm.

he continues to fuck me through my release, thrusts turning sloppy and hastened as he chases his own, until he finally shudders, his hips stilling as he cums, filling me up with his release.

Nico lets out a shaky sigh, giving us both a moment to let oxygen return to our brains before reaching up and untying the knot of tinsel garland around my wrists. pulling out of me with a hiss, he drops himself to the couch, watching as i sit up and shake out my half-asleep arms.

i slump against his side, pulling my tank top back up to cover my chest as i snuggle closer into his sweaty body.

“i think we’re going to have to clean the couch if you still wanna host a party.” he finally speaks, coaxing a bubble of laughter up from my throat.

“yeah, but i think a shower sounds nice first.” i sigh, pushing myself off the couch to stand up, but my legs feel like jelly underneath me, wobbling until Nico stands, grasping my hand in his.

“you’re right, let’s go.” he hums, helping me towards our bedroom and to our en-suite bathroom.

“who said you were joining me?” i tease, raising an eyebrow; but when he turns to look at me, a lust-driven and domineering look on his face, i shrug, “on second thought, a shower together would be nice.”

“mhm.” he simpers, turning around to turn the shower water on, and i stick my tongue out behind his back; accidentally leaving it out for too long.

he looks at me with eyebrows raised as i hurriedly pull my tongue back into my mouth, my body not nearly ready for another ‘punishment’ before he laughs.

“let’s get you cleaned up, süsse, you must be tired.”

[putellasawfc]

gingerbread competition!

leah williamson x reader

-

christmas music sounded from the bluetooth speaker that had been set up across the room, the familiar jingle of all i want for christmas is you by mariah carey filling the apartment you shared with your girlfriend of four years with a contagious level of christmas joy. the days had finally began to get chillier, the nights getting darker earlier and that’s all it took for you to get into the christmas spirit, which is why you had a variety of seasonal based activities ready for leah and yourself to partake in during the three day weekend you both had.

originally, you had really planned for tonight to be the night that you unpacked all the christmas decorations that you had stored in the loft and begin decorating your house. but after a long day of filming for different youtube videos and tiktok’s with the other arsenal girls, neither of you could be bothered with lugging down the boxes and bin bags that were filled to the brim with tinsel, baubles, stockings and lights. so instead, you went with the second best option. decorating a gingerbread house instead!

leah had been very scrooge about it at first, whining and wittering on about how there’s no point because it never stays up, even calling the whole thing a scam at one point but you had just tutted, claiming she just didn’t know how to build them properly.

“i do know how to build them! they’re just all flimsy, stay up for about five seconds and that’s it!” she defended herself, her brows furrowed in frustration as you stifled a laugh at how much offence she had taken to your previous statement.

“alright, alright. i believe you.” you teased, continuing to empty the gingerbread house kits you had picked up the day before. “i bet i can make mine look better than yours though.”

you knew the leah williamson could never back down from a challenge, her competitive streak was too high.

she scoffed, leaning forward with her elbows on the wooden table. “yeah right. sorry baby, but you have no chance.”

“well i actually have full confidence in my gingerbread house decorating abilities, so.” you said, dragging out the ‘o’ as you spread the different icings and sprinkles amongst the table, between the two of you. “why don’t we put a bet on it?”

“what kind of bet?” she eyed you, and you thought about it for a moment.

“whoever wins gets to choose an ugly christmas sweater that the loser has to wear to the next event we go to?” you suggested, that being the first thing that came to mind.

the blonde thought about it for a second, her gaze falling to the items on the table before she pursed her lips and slowly nodded, her blue eyes finding you again as she held out a hand in your direction.

“you have a deal.”

you grinned, wrapping your hand around her own and giving her a firm handshake. “may the best woman win.”

now, here you were almost twenty minutes later trying your best to apply the white icing onto the roof of your house that had miraculously managed to stay up for longer than fourty-five seconds, after you had generously coated the sides in too much icing. you would never admit it out loud, but leah was definitely right about the whole thing being flimsy. you had almost given up at one point in frustration after the house caved in on itself a sixth time.

“maybe we should’ve decorated cupcakes instead.” you mumbled, licking off some of the icing that had smudged on your thumb.

“i hate to say i told you so .. but.” the lioness captain huffed, “i definitely told you so.”

“when have you ever not enjoyed saying that?” you shot back, taking a quick glance towards her own house that had yet to be built, the woman deciding it would be better to decorate the pieces first and then stick them together after.

“i have my moments.”

you shook your head in amusement, finally satisfied with the amount of white, red and green icing that coated the house to mimic snow and tinsel. you moved to pick up a small bag of sprinkles that had already been opened by leah earlier, looking into the bag with furrowed brows.

“could’ve saved some for me babe.” you frowned, not even a quarter of the bag was full anymore.

“oops, my bad.” her tone was anything but apologetic, an amused smirk sat on her face and you elbowed her gently.

“you sabotaged me? that’s a yellow card!”

“i didn’t sabotage you! i just had to make my house look good, you wouldn’t understand.” she sent a playful look of concern to your creation and you gasped in mock offence.

“you’re so mean! my little house looks great.” you pouted, “would’ve looked even better if someone hadn’t used all sprinkles but … it’s okay i can still win without them.”

she scoffed at that, before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, aside from the speaker that was still blasting out more christmas tunes as the night went on. you made do with the sprinkles you had left, carefully sticking them to the icing around your house, focusing on the outside of your roof to make it look like colourful christmas lights had been put up. you moved onto picking up different sweets, dotting them around the house wherever you thought looks best, just adding the finishing touches when a groan to the left of you caught your attention.

you raised a brow and looked over, not being able to help the smile that rose when you saw how much leah was struggling with putting the pieces together. she’d managed to get two to stick together, but then the other side would fall down, and then when she’d attempted to stick that side back together, another side would fall down, tangling her in a never ending cycle that was clearly annoying her with the way her brows touched and her jaw tensed.

“looks like your little sabotage was for nothing.” you chirped, revelling in the way it only made her more frustrated.

“shut up.”

you laughed, finally finishing the house before pushing it away slowly, relieved the whole ordeal was finally over. “ahhh, now i get to sit back and watch you struggle.”

“i’m breaking up with you.” she muttered under her breath, intense gaze not moving from her house.

“you’re not allowed.” you swiftly replied, leaning in closer to get a better look at the mess she was making. “maybe if you ask nicely, i could give you a hand.”

she didn’t reply at first, still attempting to finish the task herself, but when almost three minutes went by and she wasn’t getting any closer to completing it, she stomped her foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum and turned to you in annoyance.

“fine. help me.”

“uh, what was that?” you questioned, cupping your ear with your hand.

she rolled her eyes, throwing her head back in exasperation at your immaturity.

“please will you help me build my house?” she asked again, “before i throw it at a wall.”

you grinned, throwing an arm over your girlfriends shoulder and pulling her into your side, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek before nodding. “i’d love to.”

it took a little bit of work, the pair of you bickering back and forth when leah had accused you of putting too much pressure on it and you accusing her of letting go too soon, but eventually, the both of you pulled your hands away cautiously, giving it a few seconds just to make sure before you gave eachother a double high five, pleased that it had finally stayed put.

pushing it back slowly as you had done to yours previously, you both sat back and admired your efforts on both houses.

“think it’s gonna be a pretty close one love.” leah said, pulling up her phone ready to snap a picture for her instagram story, where you had planned to put up a poll to see who’d win.

“hmm, maybe.” you hummed in agreement, “but i think my gumdrops on the roof might just help me win.”

she rolled her eyes once again, but this time with less irritation now that the hard part was done with. “yeah, yeah. if you say so.”

the defender took a quick snap, moving her phone to show you her screen when not even second later did leah’s house fall apart, one of the pieces even landing on the floor with a soft thud.

“you’re having a laugh.”

[fleet-off]

From a chat I had with lu @lu-sn months ago, an idea that’s been living in my head rent-free. ❤️

They’re packing up Vegas’s room at the minor family compound—Pete on the floor with the boxes, Vegas on the edge of the bed and a dozen ugly outbursts.

(It is pain and presence and all Pete’s patience in the face of Vegas’s uselessness; it is a fragile, defensive rawness and a loving, too, and all of it bound up in grief and grievance.)

The packing goes more tolerably than it has any right to. Porsche never pokes his head in. Pete follows Vegas’s terse directives unerringly, sees too much but asks few questions. Three boxes and four garbage bags are filled in short order.

And then Pete comes upon Vegas’s drawer of trophies.

Not spelling bee trophies, you understand; these are the tokens of theft and successful exploits.

So here is the ring Vegas wore to visit Tawan. A forgotten earring. A pair of briefs, abandoned by a nameless squirrel-faced little twink who dangled off Kinn’s arm and Vegas’s every honeyed word.

Gifts, too: a set of ornate golden cufflinks, an enormous and tacky wristwatch. A dozen expensive baubles Vegas never used but forever gripped tight.

Here is a collection of meticulously labeled disks—one bears the squirrel-faced twink’s name, not that he’s aware—and Vegas knows the moment Pete picks up the oldest and glimpses its significance, because the corners of his mouth tighten a fraction. He sets down the disk and lifts Tawan’s ring instead, inspecting the empty promises engraved on its inner edge.

“Drop it,” Vegas bites out.

And Pete nods, and drops the ring back in the drawer with precisely as much consideration as Tawan deserves, and they move forward.

Or so Vegas thinks, except the next item Pete produces is a second ring. Gold and jade, a gift from some big-mouthed triad boy with his tongue hung so loose he ultimately lost it. “A shame,” Vegas had told Kinn at the time, airily—“It was a talented tongue, wasn’t it?”

There are at least four rings in that drawer.

The physical evidence of everything Vegas won over Kinn once brought him a mangled satisfaction. Now it is as if Pete is raising his mutilations to the light. He clung to them—they are his, as very little has been—but they are not of him.

“What,” he says sharply, “you want it?”

Pete raises his eyebrows. “I don’t think it would fit me, if I did.”

“Don’t get fucking jealous.”

Pete tilts his head. Looks up at him, thoughtful. “You’ve been a lot of different things to different people,” he says. “Did they fit you?”

(And here is the truth: sometimes, they did. Sometimes it was the wind in his face and a motorcycle engine revving under him and a rush of pure simple abandon. Sometimes the success of the lie overtook him and he became it; sometimes he ached with fragile pride for his meager wins.)

(Some nights he lay in bed with the smothering heat of a body against his back and cold sweat on his bare skin, and only his fingers dirty from touching Kinn’s leftovers because there was nothing left inside him to hold the stain.)

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Vegas says. His voice comes out strange and hoarse. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Pete.”

Pete crawls over. He picks up Vegas’s hand where it lies limp on the bed.

Despite everything—Vegas’s chest catches, watching him slide the ring onto his finger. He loathes—loves—his lungs are shot, can’t drag in enough air.

The ring dangles off his finger. Triad kid assumed his size, thought him grander than he was.

It looks gaudier now than it did the one time he attempted to wear it. Maybe it’s the absence of the family ring.

The tat and trinkets were designed for tawdry shapes, molds into which Vegas contorted himself. He is no longer capable of the imitation.

(Pieces of him continue to wear those shapes, still and forever. This alien body is an inescapable thing.)

Vegas watches his own hand clench into a fist. The urge—to unmake, to smash himself open—this too is inescapable. Easier to extract what is genuine from the beaten pulp than from the shell.

Pete knows this too, but he bows his head against Vegas’s arm before Vegas can even try. His forehead is warm—his hair soft—underneath, his hands hold Vegas’s wrist like a precious thing. Clumsily, Vegas’s free hand finds Pete’s nape.

“Be the parts that fit,” Pete tells him. “Hold what you want to keep. The rest will fall away.”

Here on his finger, a part of Vegas forcibly made native; here in the stretched-taut tendons of his forearm, the rot that is all Vegas’s own. Pete is careful with the invasive patchwork of him, but the specific gentleness he offers Vegas’s putrid inborn mess is fury and comfort in equal measure.

He strokes Pete’s hair. Slowly lets his fist unclench.

The ring clatters to the floor, bounces somewhere under the bed. They do not retrieve it.

[t00thpasteface]

No thoughts, only skyrim

god i wish that were me........... when i play skyrim i start from scratch and don't quit until i've hoarded every shiny bauble i can get my stealth-archer-mage paws on and have leveled up enough to two-shot a dragon right out of the air. but i have to be a certain level of manic and yet a certain degree of depressed to even CONSIDER doing that, because otherwise i rightfully balk at the idea of killing a couple weeks pretending i'm an elf and running after twelve-point bucks on foot with a stolen bow

[buckybarnesandmarvel]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚

pairings: bucky x reader

warnings: fluff! a smidge of unrequited love, but i think that’s about it

summary: the team decides to do a secret santa... of course you get the one person you’re in love with

a/n: i don’t know how i feel about this one, but i hope you still enjoy!

**********************************************************************

You wrung your hands in nervousness, as the team sat around the tree. You were wearing a hoodie and sweats that you had found lying around - you and the girls often stole other member’s clothes to wear - with your favourite pair of fuzzy socks and a blanket around your shoulders. The others had situated themselves on the sofas, by the sofas or around the tree - well, that was just you and Tony.

Wanda handed you a cup of hot chocolate as you muttered a quick “thanks” before turning towards the presents.

You picked the first one up, inspecting the tag before calling out for Nat. Tony picked one up and called out for Steve. You both handed the presents out until each member had one in their hands. You watched Bucky out of the corner of your eye, seeing as he turned the small box in his hands, a small smile appearing on his face.

That calmed your nerves slightly as you looked down at the neatly-wrapped gift laying in your lap. You picked it up, your finger hovering over the flat surface and spine. You could tell it was a book - it was no secret you liked to read. If a team member needed you, they would often find you in the common room or your room, your eyes glued to the pages of your current adventure.

You smiled at the thoughtfulness, before gently prying open the sides stuck down with tape. As you opened the wrapping, you came face to face with the first edition of your favourite book. A small, breathy “oh my god” left your lips as you traced the writing softly. You let out a laugh as you face lit up with a huge smile. You looked up to see if you could figure out who it came from.

You were met with Bucky looking right back at you, his apprehensive expression melting once he saw yours. You mouthed a silent “thank you” as he mouthed one back. Your brows shot up in surprise as Bucky cocked his head in the direction of the kitchen. You nodded, before making an excuse of getting more hot chocolate and headed into the kitchen.

As soon as you saw Bucky, the words spilled out of your mouth.

“How did you know?”

“Oh, c’mon, doll. I’m a trained assassin. You think I didn’t notice?”

You gave a small shrug before he continued.

“And, no one else would’ve gotten me something like this.” He held up the present you had gotten him, a small, dark red bauble with ‘James’ written in gold cursive on it. You hadn’t interacted much with Bucky so you were stumped about what to get him. When you finally settled on this, you couldn’t help but worry about his reaction.

“So... do you like it?”

“It’s perfect.”

Without warning, Bucky leaned forward, clashing his lips onto yours. You parted after a few seconds, a giggle escaping you.

“What was that for?”

Bucky gave a shy smile, his metal hand reaching to rub the back of his neck.

“I liked it.” you admitted.

His eyes lit up as he watched you get closer to him again, before finally connecting your lips in a sweet kiss.

**********************************************************************

tagging: @wndawtch​ @chrisevansdaughter​ @bubblessunshinehoney @chrisdrysdale​ @pbnjparker​ @newgirlintheneighborhood​ @youralphawolf72​ @littlebluestone​ lmk if you want to be added or removed! xx

**********************************************************************

[lipglossanon]

What’re Ya Buyin’?

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

The Merchant x fem!reader (follow up, one shot)

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, pussy spanking

not proofread ✍️ but edited cause I forgot to cut out a part I left in til now 😵‍💫

Title from a RE4 Merchant quote 😝

have some brain rot that wouldn’t leave (but don’t expect more! 😜)

part i

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“I have something I think you’ll like,” his voice calls out to you as you slip around the corner, walking into the halo of his purple torches. 

“Oh?” you return, grinning at him like you’re not covered in dirt and blood and the viscera of someone else’s insides. 

He chuckles and opens his ridiculously large jacket up, showcasing some shiny new baubles and trinkets; however, it’s the dull metal of a scope that catches your eye and pulls you to his table. 

“Thought it might interest ya,” his voice comes out light and teasing making your eyes flash to him, head tilting in curiosity. 

“How much?”

“How much d’ya have to offer, stranger?”

You don’t miss the hungry gleam in his eyes as you look through your pockets. Placing two gold ingots and some sapphires on the table, he clicks his tongue. 

“Doesn’t look like that’s enough cash.”

Heat pulses through your pussy at his rough voice, clit already throbbing in your panties—still dirty from the last encounter.  

“Oh that’s too bad,” you pout at him, body language open, “is there another offer you might accept?”

“There is,” he nods, reaching over the table for your hand.

Once you take his rough hand into yours, he guides you around the wooden furniture to his side. He presses you against the wall, his bulky mass dwarfing you making you moan softly. 

“Haven’t even started yet,” he laughs, low and deep, “can you be a good girl for me?”

“Yes,” you gasp out at him, hips rocking to meet his but growing frustrated with his coat blocking his lower body, “please.”

He shucks his pack off onto the table and slips his jacket off, along with his hood, making your eyes widen in surprise. Turning back to you, he’s still bulky but now it’s just him. Meaty pecs covered in a smattering of chest hair that leads down to his stomach and thick happy trail. Mouth watering, your eyes eagerly rake down his body, taking in how fit he actually is underneath all the wares. 

But you’re more excited to see him without the hood. Dark tousled hair, offset by deep blue eyes watch you in amusement while his mask covers the lower half of his face still. 

“See something you like, stranger?”

“Oh,” you murmur, feeling caught out, “I just didn’t expect…”

You trail off, feeling hot under his gaze as he takes his turn to look you over. 

“Well now, this won’t do,” he murmurs dragging his palms down your sides, grabbing the hem of your shirt and lifting until he’s pulling it completely off of you. 

Shivering, you let him run his rough hands over your bare skin, the heat seeping into your muscles making you relax into his touches until you’re as docile as a kitten. He ghosts over the nipples showing through your bra to cup a hand around your neck and tilt your head back so he can meet your eyes. 

“Pretty little thing,” he murmurs, voice hushed and reverent as your eyelashes flutter, brain pleasantly quiet as he smooths his other hand across your jaw and cups it.

His thumb presses in on your bottom lip and you part your lips to swipe your tongue over it, inviting him to press it into your mouth. 

He obliges you, eyes heated and dark as he presses his thumb into your mouth and down onto your tongue, letting saliva pool around around the warm digit. 

“What I wouldn’t give to taste that mouth,” he rumbles, his voice making your skin tingle. 

“You can,” it comes out softer than you intended since you were aiming for sultry, “I can close my eyes again, if I have to.”

“Oh you can, hmm?” he teases you making you squirm under his gaze which seems much more intense without the shade of the hood to block your view. 

You kiss the pad of his thumb, “Uh huh.”

He sighs a little, hands moving completely away leaving you with a chill.  

“We’ll save it for next time,” he compromises, “now let’s get down to business.”

You pop open the button on your jeans and slide down the zipper, pushing it along with your panties down to your thighs before he’s grabbing your wrists to pin you in place. 

“Allow me,” he holds your wrists in one hand as his fingers glide across your slippery clit. 

“Still wet from last time, ey?” 

You moan when he shoves two thick fingers into your pulsing cunt. 

“Pretty pussy still dripping my cum,” his voice rumbles low in his chest, eyes dilated and heavy as they stare at you. 

His fingers scissor your hole open before slowly plunging back inside your fluttering walls making you mewl. 

“Please, I need you inside,” you gasp as he rubs across the spongy spot at the front of your pussy, “oh, oh god.” 

“Mmm, I’d pay a pretty penny to keep you like this,” his masked mouth presses a covered kiss to your neck.  

He pulls his fingers out of your pussy with a slick noise and shoves his pants midway down his thighs. 

“Fuck you’re so big,” you whine, eyes hazy with need. 

He chuckles and strokes his cock once, the fat head dripping precum. 

“It fit once already, love,” he murmurs to you, pressing his fat tip into your clenching heat and sinking into your body. 

Shuddering as he sinks inch by thick inch deep into your wet pussy, your hips cant towards him until his pelvis presses flush against you. 

“Best cunt I’ve ever had,” he growls, pulling his slick shiny dick halfway out before sinking it back into your fluttering walls. 

You whine, fingers curling into fists as he keeps a tight hold on your wrists. His free hand slips down to pinch and rub your swollen clit until you’re continually squeezing down on his cock. 

“Want me to cum inside this juicy cunt?” his deep voice makes your nipples ache.

“Please, s’only a fair trade, right?” you tease him, laugh morphing into a keening moan as he bullies his cock hard against your g-spot. 

He spanks his fingertips across your pudgy clit, gloves rough against your pussy lips. 

“That’s right, love,” he chuckles as he humps his cock deeper and harder into your squelching hole, “fair is fair.”

He spanks your clit again as he frees up your wrists. 

“Spread that sweet little cunt for me,” your eyes have a hard time pulling away from his mask covered face, the sight making your thighs clamp together. 

Your hands reach down and grab your pussy lips, spreading open your cunt so your pudgy little clit is on obvious display. 

“Beautiful,” he mutters, eyes staring down at your exposed pussy. 

You cry out as he spanks your swollen clit hard.

Again. 

And again. 

And again. 

You’re drooling all down your chin as each slap sends white hot electricity all through your pussy making slick gush all over his thrusting cock. 

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train making you wail as he repeatedly spanks your pulsing clit as you clamp down, milking his fat throbbing dick. 

“Good girl,” he praises, moving his hands to grip your waist, hammering up into your spasming pussy. 

With a rumbling groan, he buries his cock balls deep and cums, hot spurts of sticky jizz filling your cunt until it drips past your stuffed hole. 

Once you both come down from the aftershocks, he slips out making you whine at the empty feeling once again. He only chuckles and helps you pull up your panties, eyes dark and hungry as he covers up your cum dripping pussy. 

You gasp when he smacks your cloth covered mound. 

“Gotta say, stranger, you’re my favorite customer.”

[kit-williams]

Azazel rework: Sick Thoughts

The dreaded Azazel rework this is also probably going to be a multiple part thing for him. Azazel was one of the first boys I wrote about and compared to the others his was the weakest and also personality wise he was lacking. I had felt no real love for him Sooooooo he got an update. With a much better personality that will actually allow him to stand up with the rest of the boys and make him a unique yandere/character.

Tag List: @thevoidscreams @barn-anon @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty

@bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

Dramatis Personae

Dark Angel Chaplain Azazel Erros (Ah-zay-zell is how I pronounce it)

Imperial Guardswoman: Lilith "Puppy" Morningstar - long raven hair, olive skin tone (think Italy or Spain), bright Hazel eyes, athletic build but still feminine, hair is kept in a military style bun.

Azazel Erros sat in the back of the tank, right by the rear door, ready for any ill fate that would befall him and his temporary companions. His eyes scanned the bodies in the back... the way they all pressed up against each other like rabbits in a warren to keep warmth and he was a fox that had managed to squeeze himself in there... it reminded him of an old tale his mother had told him of anthropomorphized animals overcoming their nature to be better. Regardless they had picked up Azazel not long after he had given his dead brothers their last rites.

He remembers the way the tank rolled up and it was her voice and her shy temping smile that greeted his eyes out from under that flak helmet. They too had met an ill fate like he and his battle brothers had... their transport having been shot down and this small group was the survivors fighting their way back to the front, like good mortal troops.

His enhanced eyes focused on the movement in the corner as they called her a puppy but he saw through her guise of being a snake. He watched her rifle through the bag that they found in the middle of nowhere, full of useless expensive baubles, hardly worth a second look in his opinion. However, he watched how her the green in her hazel eyes glittered in the sunlight as she claimed ownership over what no one else wanted.

Azazel saw the smiles on their lips as she looked so happy at her spoils. But now he was watching her tucked away by the tank shells in her claimed dark space in the womb of the tank... he watched her face light up by a weak light. The small bit of light allowed his eyes to see the color of her face and other small details with his enhanced sight, she looked around like a sinner in church making sure no one was bothered by her light... and then the small giddy smile that graced her lips and the way the light danced in the green flecks of her brown eyes.

Frivolous nonsense, he thought as she made faces in the small mirror and preened at her appearance. It reminded him of the few unfortunate run-ins he had with the nobility... always fawning over themselves. Azazel should have returned to a meditative prayer but his eyes focused in on the small tube of lip paint... it was a ripe red color... it reminded him of a fruit and it made his tongue move in anticipation at the juice of it meeting his own. He watched Puppy apply it precisely to her bottom lip in the trundling vehicle. Azazel watched��as she pulled her lips in, over her teeth, rubbing her lips together... he heard the soft pop of her lips parting. The soft smile on her lips as she now had the lip paint on her top lip.

Azazel felt his breathing hitch for a moment... the breath tightening in his chest... he was holding it in... as his eyes locked onto how full her red lips looked. How she was unaware of his voyeuristic watching, him a Dark Angel's Chaplain, the way she pursed them and touched up a spot to make sure her upper lip was the same red as her bottom. She turned her head from side to side, continuing to purse her lips occasionally, as he could tell she was enamored with the red of her lips.

Azazel tried to let out the breath he was holding as she grabbed one of the artillery shells and his mouth opened slightly, hidden by the skull mask of his helm, as she kissed the cold metal making an audile muwah noise... no doubt leaving behind a red colored impression of her lips on the metal. His mind drifts back to one of those unfortunate moments he had to meet nobility... the way the man had those same sorts of impressions upon his skin and clothes and the scent of an unknown female. The amorous evidence of lustful inhibitions... he watches her smile at her work as she puts the shell back. Azazel is certain that the red of her lip paint would leave a mark on his skin... leaving a trail of them behind on his flesh... as her mouth trails down his body... leaving her marks.

Azazel blinks and softly grunts and moves slightly as he breaks himself out of these thoughts. He ignored the discomfort between his legs... banishing her from his thoughts though failing as his eyes looked over to her and could see how she looked over at him, the small light closed up, with a guilty look on her face... like a sinner. The look that tells him that she acts as if she did something wrong... something she wasn't allowed to do.

She waits watching him with those big eyes of hers like some small cat hiding in the dark. She soon pulls out the light again and returns to preening herself in her dark corner and Azazel licks his teeth as he watches. He watches her adjust how she sits... how she curves her spine in a posture he only knows being called "sitting pretty". He remembers hearing guardsmen talk about the harlots seeking their thrones. He remembers watching how they would advertise themselves without saying a word to the men... pure body language between the two parties so that no one was "soliciting" and no one was being "solicited" out in the open anyway. He wasn't uneducated at why he wanted to have her nor how he wanted to have her... he most certainly wanted her to sit like that in his lap and feel what she was causing. Would the little temptress play coy? Feigning her innocence and trying to act all puppy-like? He bit his bottom lip as he focused on how she brushed something powdery on her cheekbones.

She batted her lashes at herself in her small mirror but for Azazel, it could have easily been to him... he was waiting for her signature wink to him whenever she was attempting to flirt with him. He wasn't dumb to her attempts as she would try and his reply was to ignore her or if she was unlucky she would be reprimanded by her superior and would return to her professional demeanor. But, oh! How he could tell she was trying to coil around him... unable to stop herself from making such overly flirtatious advances. I'm sorry about Puppy... she's overly friendly... Her superior had told him in private after one of her attempts had fallen flat. She was too sweet for her own good... getting too familiar with others too quickly... she was clearly a risk... and Azazel knew what dangers she was unknowingly courting.

"Why are you here?" Azazel remembers asking her when they had finally gotten a moment alone together... those moments were few and thankfully regretfully far between Her hazel eyes looked over at him as he watched her throat bob as she drank from her canteen.

"My Lord?" She looked up at him and he could hear the simple accent she did her best to hide, but her eyes spoke of confusion and he watched her lick her lips nervously when he did not reply, "To serve the Imperium." It was at that moment that Azazel was thankful that guard uniforms turned the wearer into an androgynous blob of pockets and flak armor plates.

"You are unlike many I've worked with." He probes gently knowing he doesn't have to push too hard to get her to say something she shouldn't.

"Oh." She said in a way that Azazel couldn't read if it was disappointment or surprise but either way, he still got what he wanted when she opened her mouth again, "Well it was this or sex work." She says with a shrug as she gives him a harlot's grin at her confession to the Chaplain. Oh how often she bit her tongue wanting to add more like the harlot she was... unable to keep quiet for her own good and always eager to gossip confess to an ear willing to listen and give her attention beyond asking what her prices were. However, those cheeky comments always involved some sort of implication of her willing to try and bed him... to be a sort of relief.

He exhaled hard within his helm as he knew how if he was younger, long before he was a Brother Chaplain, he would have and at times did jump at such opportunities. Tasting and partaking in some sins firsthand... and he used the knowledge he gained when he repented and became a Brother Chaplain. Yes, his younger and wilder ways had been repented for... that was before he met her... he had been free of temptation for so long! But again... when this Puppy smiled at him and let her flirtatious tongue waggle at him. Azazel was frustrated at the fact that he was suddenly feeling such a stirring in his loins by her. Other women of higher station had equally been as stupidly bold as her but it was only her that was getting such a reaction from him!

Even though his eyes were closed for those moments lost in memory to ignore his desire and to try and reign his mind back in to continue to focus on prayers. It was his preternatural senses that told him that someone was in his space. His eye lenses were dark so it wasn't a stretch for them to mistake it as him sleeping. When his eyes opened he could see her right there. He watched the way her eyes darted over his faceplate... as she was leaning in to see under his hood.

The brief panic in her eyes as a hard jolt nearly makes her lose her footing and send her crashing into his lap... but unfortunately she recovers. He hears her soft exhale of relief, his smile on his lips as it's unfortunate how he watched her make a fool of herself all the same. She crouches beside him hugging her knees as she looks over his rosarius beads and other visible trinkets tied to him... I could kill her... he thinks to himself... be rid of these wicked temptations from this snake. But, lo! How being so close... he could see how her lips were painted such a deep red color... like the skin of an apple.

His throat felt tight as he suddenly desired her to be foolishly brave. To watch her climb into his lap and leave a deep red mark upon his armor... or perhaps she would be bold enough to leave such a mark on the off-white cloth of his hood... batting her eyelashes and feigning how it got there... or maybe she would save them the scandal of their dalliance being exposed by hiding it in the hollow of his throat. How he stared at her eyes staring up at him as once again she was looking at his faceplate... kneeling beside him... his discomfort had yet to go away... would she be lurid enough to leave markings smeared across the skin of his stomach and smeared around his-

Azazel bit back a frustrated noise as he forcibly stopped those thoughts as she walked away and he could no longer see her plump bottom lip. Azazel would need to, at the very least, require the attention of a serf when he returned to the rest of his brothers. Being away from her should be enough to fix it...

He tries not to think about the next morning during their morning meal the spots of lipstick she had missed wiping off... and the faded blush on her cheeks... he tries not to think about her pressing a kiss... to the hollow of his throat like a wilting maiden... he hardly notices the way she starts to eat up his thoughts... God Emperor help him.

[artlasjc]

I UNDERSTOOD THE REFERENCE!!

I know it hasn't been an easy month so far for most of the fandom, so I'm going to say a little fun reference that I caught in the last episode that aired this Thursday. Kent Puckler from Dr. Drazel's troupe in episode 113 said a line that when I heard it I thought there was something more to it.

At minute 30:00 of the last Live while Scanlan says goodbye to "The boys" and Grog says "Watch out for Bears" Kent Puckler says: "I, I have a Thing with Bears"

Of course, it was a loose sentence in the middle of a special episode with the cast playing with Vox Machina again, but I (as I do with a lot of things in this fandom) thought deeper about it and remembered a fact that I almost missed if I hadn't been glancing at Taliesin at that moment, just glancing at it.

Because when I looked at Taliesin and at the same time Sam by his side, I remembered the One Shot Choose Their Adventure...Again! From Red Nose Day, where after Liam couldn't appear as Bard for this one-shot (He escaped again!!) Sam had to replace him at the last minute and since Sam didn't have another character he instead played a younger and I would say "innocent" version of Scanlan Shorthald before Vox Machina was even formed and still lvl 5.

Oficial ART from Annalise Jensen here is on Tumblr too from @may12324 amazing ART

I lost focus a little, sorry, ADHD,

Returning to the Subject in this One-shot we are introduced to another character who interacts with both Scanlan and Kent, the character of Taliesin Bobby Socks the SON of Kent Puckler

Again same artist Annalise Jensen

Well, if you've read this far, you must be wondering what Bobby has to do with Kent Puckler's phrase. Well, it's simple because Bobby Socks is a DRUID class, a Shepherd subclass.

With a BEAR TOTEM Call Bauble.

So since this came to my mind I've been wondering if this means that Kent Puckler has a bear problem because he has a son who is a Druid and is a good child that when Bobby talks about his father the Bears bother him, or because Bobby's own Bear Totem OR even Bobby himself turns into bears to scare his father thinking it's a joke???

We'll never know because I'm probably overthinking a joke I made at the moment about bears being scary to a troupe of musicians being Centaurs on a Road Trip.

Anyway, I just wanted to bring a smile to the face of the person reading this and take away some of their worries about the world. <3 <3

So if you can go watch 2023 Red Nose Day One Shot and have a laugh about Bobby Socks and a young Scanlan Shorthald.

thanks for reading this far

Good morning, good afternoon or good evening to you reading and it's Thursday yet?

[baublekute]

Playing more with V's past

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 15

Part One Part Fourteen Link to ao3. Part Sixteen

Not exactly in love with this one but I just needed to move past it at this point RIP

“Jonathan, how are you so bad at this? It’s literally impossible that you are this bad at decorating.” Nancy proclaimed exasperatedly as the two of them watched the garland slip away from her boyfriend and fall to the ground for the fourth time in a row.

Steve snorted at Nancy’s loud declaration, hiding the bright smile on his face behind a hand. The couple had come early to help him set up for the party, but most of their time had been spent choosing various records to listen to throughout the night and making fun of Jonathan’s absolutely abysmal decorating skills. 

“I’m Jewish!” Jonathan protested, his cheeks burning a soft red as he began to climb down the ladder once more, “I don’t know how this works!”

“You guys celebrate Christmas too,” Nancy shot back, walking over to grab the garland from the ground and hand it up to him so he didn’t have to come all the way down again. 

“Will and my mom do,” Jonathan argued, gearing up for round five with the decorations, “I refuse on principle,”

“Principle,” Nancy huffed, rolling her eyes and turning to Steve with a look. It was a look he knew well, the one that said ‘can you believe him?’. 

It was fun to be on the other side of that look

Steve shrugged at her silent question, staying out of the debate as he reached for another glass bauble. His mother was very particular about where on the tree each ornament had to go, and even if she wasn’t going to see it this year, Steve still wanted it to look perfect. 

He had no idea why he cared when she obviously didn’t anymore, but maybe Jonathan was right. Sometimes it was about the principle of things.  

Speaking of Jonathan, Steve looked away from the tree just in time to see the garland slip out of his hands for a record fifth time. There was no hiding his laughter this time, and Nancy joined Steve in unstoppable giggles as Jonathan gave them both a spiteful scowl. 

“Okay, I give up. Decorations are stupid, and impossible, and not worth the effort,” Jonathan grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and pushing out a short irritated sigh. 

“Byers, the night we became friends your house was literally covered in Christmas lights,” Steve joked, scooping up the garland and hopping up onto the other side of the ladder, “I think you can handle it.”

Steve held the decoration up in place, raising his eyebrows and briefly making eye contact before looking at the hammer in Jonathan’s hands. 

”Yeah, and do you remember how the house looked, Harrington?” Jonathan asked rhetorically, a wry grin overtaking the grumpy look as he picked up the hammer and began to position the first nail. 

“That was the night you guys became friends?” Nancy interjected before Steve could reply. 

Steve hummed in consideration, turning his head down to look at her. She was standing just below them, arms crossed as she raised one slim brow in their direction. 

“Sure. Why not?” Jonathan shrugged, smacking the nail right on the head. 

“Yeah, Nance. Everyone knows that the best way to make friends is killing interdimensional monsters together,” Steve announced, like that was completely common knowledge that she obviously should have known. 

There was a brief silence as Nancy and Steve stared each other down, and then she cracked, snorting out a soft huff of laughter and shaking her head. Jonathan snickered from the other side of the ladder, and Steve indulged himself in a slightly cheesy grin.

It was nice, the easy way of things now that they had finally talked. There was nothing hanging over the three of them-

Well, there was nothing hanging over them that they had created. Sure, Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan still had secrets, but they were shared secrets, and that made the weight all the lighter. 

“I didn’t know you were Jewish,” Steve said idly as they went back to focusing on the garland. 

“On my mom’s side,”Jonathan explained, grabbing the last nail, reaching into Steve’s space to hammer it in, “Now that my dad finally took off for good we can actually talk about it without it starting a fight,”’

Yet another reason to hate Lonnie Byers. Steve didn’t really understand being Jewish or anything, but this obviously mattered to Jonathan, and it didn’t seem like it would be that hard to include some Hanukkah things in with Christmas. 

Wait. 

“Should I have gotten like a menorah too? Or some kind of special food?” Steve asked as they began to climb down, suddenly worried that he might be acting just like Lonnie by not including something special for their holiday too. 

“Hanukkah was almost two weeks ago, Steve,” Jonathan deadpanned, “Don’t worry, all the being Jewish is done for the year,” 

Shit. He didn’t even know that. Here he was trying to claim that they were spontaneously friends now, but this was just another reminder of how little Steve actually understood about Jonathan. 

He knew Nancy as much as Nancy let anyone know her, but Jonathan was still an X factor. Even after their moment in the Wheeler’s basement, it still felt like there was this fortress around him, a big heavy wall built by years of being jaded and fearful of the way the rest of the world treated him. Jonathan’s mindset seemed to be permanently stuck in hurt before you get hurt- a spikey, reactionary way of living that made him use his words as weapons 

Steve understood it, but he wanted to be able to find a way to get around it. 

He didn’t want walls. Not with them. Not anymore. He just didn’t know how to start climbing. But apparently Jonathan was going to throw him down a rope. 

“But…I appreciate the thought,” Jonathan added in a softer tone when he saw Steve’s wince, awkward and unsure as he carefully avoided eye contact, “It’s nice. That you care. You know?”

Steve didn’t reply because he wasn’t exactly sure what to say, but he gently bumped his shoulder against Jonathan’s, hoping that would say everything he wanted to. Judging by the blush on Jonathan’s cheeks, it had at least had some effect.

Progress was progress. Steve would take it.  

He walked back over to the tree, both of the others following him like ducklings, looking slightly lost now that most of the other decorations were up. Steve had smoothly avoided having them by the tree, but now there was no way to keep them back without it seeming weird. 

“Okay,” Steve sighed, hating the way his shoulders were automatically starting to tense up, “So Nancy if you want to do the blue ones, they go in a full circle at the bottom, and then a clockwise diagonal spiral up to the top. Clockwise like to the left and up. Jonathan there should be two red ones on every level, so you can do those. Well, up until you get to the last five, then it’s just one red one on every level, because there isn’t enough space. Make sure you space them out enough to leave room, but not spaced out in the same places. When we’re done with the basic ones, we can add the special ones.”

It was the instructions his mother gave him every year, the ones Steve knew by heart. He was an expert in tree decorating by now, and he was used to directing whoever was helping him with a deadly efficiency. 

But instead of just starting the way Tommy and Carol might have, Jonathan and Nancy gave Steve a shared look of confusion. 

“They’re ornaments, Steve,” Nancy said, slowly, like she was talking to one of the kids, “Wherever we put them should be fine, right?”

No. It wasn’t. 

This was the way the tree was supposed to look, the way Steve had decorated it every single year of his life. His mother would get upset if the tree looked wrong, and then his dad would be irritated that she was in a mood, and it would be all Steve’s fault for just not making the tree look the way it was supposed to. 

But…

“Hello darling! I guess you’re out with Tommy and Carol right now, but I hope you get home soon. Even when we aren’t there your curfew is still midnight. You know I worry if I don’t know where you are.”

But did she still worry about him? Did his mother know that Steve hadn’t paid attention to curfew since he was about fifteen? She didn’t know he hadn’t spoken to Tommy and Carol in almost a year. 

“Listen, Steven, I’m so sorry, but there’s been a slight change of plans. Your father and I were supposed to be home on Christmas Eve, but one of his partners invited us to a Christmas party in New York. We really can’t miss this, not when they’re still considering that merger with Smith and Kinsey. I know you understand.”

But he didn’t. Not really. He understood his father, but why did she have to go with him? Why couldn’t just his mom come back home? 

“We’re going to try and come back for a few days between Christmas and New Years. I’ll try to call in the morning on Christmas.”

But she wouldn’t be able to come back. They would find some excuse. Some party, some work event, some reason to not have to be here. They always did. 

Ah! Alright, Richard, I’m coming! Sorry, your father brought the car around and he’s honking up a storm. I love you Steven!” 

But…

But his mother wasn’t going to see the tree this year. 

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, knowing that he had already waited too long to reply and they had caught on that something deeper was at play, “I guess it doesn’t matter.” 

Ring. Ring.

Saved by the bell. 

“I’ll get the door,” Steve said, relieved for a reason to take away the ornaments. He carefully covered the box and placed it on the table, watching to make sure not a single bauble was jostled out of place. When they were safe, he turned to Nancy and Jonathan, shooting them a winning KingSteve smile. 

It was fine. He was fine. 

“Nancy, put on some music and Jonathan… you make us some Hanukkah decorations to add in here,” Steve directed, giving them jobs that were far away from the tree. 

Rinnnnnnnnng. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. 

“How am I supposed to-“

“I believe in you!” Steve called out behind him, already walking away before Jonathan could finish his questions. Steve had no idea what a Hanukkah decoration would be, but if it mattered to the Byers, then it mattered to him. 

Plus this would be a great distraction from the tree, and the ornaments, and all of the stupid emotions that came with them. 

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. 

“I’m coming!” Steve yelled as the doorbell continued to obnoxiously chime. Someone was pressing on it over and over, and he had a pretty good idea of who was waiting for him on the other side. 

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ri-

“Do you know how annoying that is?” Steve said as he opened the door, looking down at Eddie who was bent at the waist, staring at the bell with laser-like intensity as he pressed it as quickly as he could over and over. 

Eddie popped up, giving Steve a gremlin smirk and scrunching up his nose in an oddly adorable way. 

“We’ve been waiting out here for ages,” Eddie replied, dragging out the word as he tilted his head back and groaned, “I thought you would have the butler standing at attendance waiting for our arrival, Sweetheart.”

“Gave him the week off for the holiday. Sorry, Babydoll,” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes as he looked at the rest of the group waiting on his doorstep and waved them in. 

It wasn’t the entirety of Hellfire, not even by half. Jeff and Frank were standing behind Eddie, and no one else. They were bundled up in coats and hats and scarves, a stark contrast to Eddie who was wearing only a long sleeve shirt and a beanie on top of his mountain of curls. 

“Just you guys?” Steve asked, trying and failing to hide some of his disappointment. He knew that asking them this late would probably mean that most of them had plans, but it was still a little bit of a let down that they couldn’t even find time to stop by. 

“Uh yeah,” Jeff said as he walked past Steve, taking off his scarf as he did and launching into explanations for everyone’s absences. Janet was in Chicago visiting family, Kaiden’s whole clan was out ice fishing for the week, and Rocky was semi-permanently grounded and thus unable to find a way to sneak out with his parents both home from work for the holidays. 

“And Gareth?” Steve asked, trying to ignore the way all three of them immediately winced. 

“He wasn’t feeling great,” Eddie replied, just a shade too fast. 

It was a lie, a really obvious lie, but Steve didn’t call him out on it. Truthfully he hadn’t really expected Gareth to make it anyway. Steve wasn’t the brightest when it came to school, but he was pretty great at reading people, and he knew well enough how Gareth felt about him. 

“Are we…early?” Frank asked hesitantly, looking around at the mostly empty house, deftly changing the subject. 

Steve furrowed his brow, taking a cursory glance at the clock on the wall just to be sure that he was right. 

“Uh yeah? It’s only five?” Steve questioned back, quirking his head to the side, not quite connecting the dots.  

Jeff and Frank immediately began to groan, and Eddie ducked his head, hiding his face behind his hair as his cheeks immediately darkened to a deep rouge. 

“I told you he said it started at seven!” Jeff shouted, throwing up his hands. 

“Dude, you never listen,” Frank snapped, shooting Eddie a fairly severe glare. 

“Sorry! I’m sorry,” Eddie sighed, pulling on his curls and giving Steve a sheepish little look, “We can come back later if you want?”

“No, it’s totally fine,” Steve quickly replied, wanting to erase the sadness from Eddie’s eyes as fast as he could. Something about seeing him this way was setting off every one of Steve’s instincts and that just couldn’t stand, “You guys can help us finish setting up,”

“Us?” 

“Jonathan and Nancy came early too,” Steve said with a grin. 

He was going to make a joke about the fact that they had been invited to come early, unlike the boys, but he hesitated when he saw the instant stormy look that had appeared on Eddie’s face the second he heard their names. His jaw was set tight, and there was a tightness in his shoulders that looked almost painful. 

Huh.

“If you guys wanna go through, we’re almost done. Just the tree and a few other things left,” Steve instructed. Jeff and Frank went in past him, but Steve caught Eddie’s sleeve as he walked by, pulling him into a short stop. 

“Everything okay?” Steve asked, pitching his voice softer so no one else would catch the question. He wasn’t exactly sure what had happened, but it felt important enough to mention. 

Eddie paused for a second before doing a complete one eighty. His eyes got big and wide, far too innocent to be real, and he pulled a thin smile that looked completely wrong. 

“All good,” Eddie chirped.

Another way too fast response. Eddie’s tells were so easy. Steve raised a single brow, waiting and seeing if Eddie would crack under the pressure and fess up to the lie. 

No dice. Eddie was good at putting up his walls when he needed to be, even if he was crap at lying. 

“Seriously, Steve, I’m fine,” Eddie insisted, holding out his hand. Steve sighed, taking it and immediately gasping at the sensation. 

It was like touching pure ice. 

“Eddie!” Steve exclaimed, reaching out and taking Eddie’s other hand, holding them both tightly in his own. He leaned his head down low, blowing hot air on the two frozen popsicles in his clutches, rubbing Eddie’s fingers to try and get some more blood flowing. 

“You need to wear gloves,” Steve lectured, continuing to warm Eddie’s hands, “Frostbite sucks, and it’s like negative two with wind chill! You need a coat to wear your coat too. I know you have one, so where is it? Huh? Just because you like to go against ‘the man’ doesn't mean you get to act dumb. Do you want to get sick? Because this is how you get sick, Eds. If you need gloves, I can lend you a pair. You at least need…”

Steve trailed off after a quick glance upward, his heart stuttering in his chest.  

Eddie was staring down at him, his eyes wide with something new that Steve couldn’t quite identify. He almost looked scared, but he wasn’t pulling away. The red was back in his cheeks, but there was no shame on his face, no guilt. 

Steve slowly straightened up, still holding Eddie’s hands tightly, his thumb continuing to worry against Eddie’s slightly thawed out palm. Steve’s stomach was doing weird somersaults and when he tried to speak, no words seemed to want to come.  

“Um-”

“HEY GUYS!” 

Frank’s shout startled them both into action. Eddie ripped his hands away, pulling them in close towards his chest, and Steve jumped about a foot in the air, knocking his shoulder painfully against the wall as he did. He dragged a sharp breath in, eyes scrunching up as a wave of hurt washed down his arm. 

“Coming!” Eddie yelped, and Steve opened his eyes just in time to see Eddie hurrying away from him and into the hallway. 

His heart lurched again, more painful this time than nervous. Eddie hadn’t even done anything, he had just walked away, but something about it hurt, and it hurt badly. Steve wasn’t sure why he couldn’t stand people walking away from him anymore, but it was even worse when it was Eddie. 

Then right at the entrance of the living room, Eddie paused, turning around and facing Steve. 

Another long look. Another silence that Steve didn’t know how to break. Even the ache in his shoulder had vanished in the pressure of the moment 

But then Eddie held out his hand, a tiny little grin overtaking his features as his eyes went soft and warm. 

“You comin’ Sweetheart?” 

The tension slid away from Steve’s body at the question, and he nodded. His anxiety melted away, and Steve walked forward, interlocking their fingers and dragging Eddie into the living room. 

Taglist: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name@minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

[superficialdomina]

Unwrapped

A secret Santa gift for @glitchquake ❤️❤️

Summary: An Avenger/Time Lord!Loki x fem!reader, friends-to-lovers, fluffy/smutty one-shot.

My masterlist

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+; minors DNI! Explicit smut, PIV, oral sex (f receiving). A smidgen of angst.

Author's Note: Darling @glitchquake, merry Christmas!! 🎄🎄🎁🎁I had so much fun with this prompt and with weaving in some little Easter eggs (or should they be candy canes!?!!) just for you. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed creating it.

And another thank you to the wonderful @fictive-sl0th for arranging this terrific Secret Santa. I was so glad to be a part of it!! (Readers, you can find the Secret Santa 2023 Master List here).

Prompt: Walking in and seeing Loki wrapped in nothing but red ribbon under the Christmas tree and then you two do the do.

It had turned into a perfect Christmas decorating party. The smell of baking gingerbread filled the Tower common room, Mariah Carey was belting out the chorus to All I want for Christmas, and Nat was at this very moment balanced precariously on the top of a high-backed chair to add a glittery star to the apex of Stark's 12-foot Christmas tree. The rest of you had been happily adorning the tree - and the common room - for several hours, with all manner of baubles, candy canes, lights, and tinsel. Someone had made an early batch of eggnog, and a holiday buzz hung excitedly in the room.

You were humming along to Wham’s Last Christmas, when you caught Loki’s figure entering the room. He looked as disdainful as ever, although on this occasion, an air of skepticism coloured his general standoffishness.

“What,” he asked, distastefully running his fingers over the pink and green lights, “is this about?”

“It’s December 1st, Loki!” you beamed at him, ignoring his curmudgeonly attitude and generously wrapping a spare length of sparkly tinsel around his shoulders. “It’s a Christmas decorating party!”

Loki frowned, but a smirk lingered at the edges of his mouth; your enthusiasm was difficult to curb at the worst of times, and often proved infectious. He began to say something – probably characteristically barbed – before he spotted the small pile of gifts under the tree. “And tell me, darling - what are those?”

“Christmas gifts from Little Miss Festive over here,” Tony cut in, gesturing towards you with the glass of eggnog in his hand before thrusting it upon Loki. “There’s even one for you, Horns.”

Loki narrowed his eyes and turned to you, looking mildly suspicious. “What is it?”

“I’m not telling you, Loki!” You purse your lips in mock admonishment. “You can wait until Christmas eve like everyone else!”

“Why?” Loki asked.

“Tradition,” you said, with an air of finality that put an end to any further argument.

The tower’s Christmas eve party was in full swing. Tony’s fancy stakeholder party, full of elegant hors d’oeuvres and flowing champagne, had happened a few days earlier; to your relief, tonight’s event included only the live-in members of the Tower, with a few bonus loved ones here and there. It was delightfully warm and friendly. Thor was beaming widely at everyone around him, and he had not taken off the chunky red pompom beanie you had made him since he’d unwrapped it several hours earlier. Even Loki seemed to be enjoying himself.

“Congratulations on acing your finals, darling,” he had murmured to you when he first arrived. You’d looked at him in confusion; you’d finished your end-of-term exams only a few days ago, and you didn’t expect to know the results for several weeks.

“How do you- Loki, I haven’t even heard-“

“Oh, just something I picked up around the Timelines,” he added with a wink, as understanding finally dawned on you. If only my future-self had also been brave enough to tell him I’m madly in love with h-

But you wouldn’t think about that tonight. You’d been having such a wonderful time; for your first Christmas with the Avengers, you couldn’t have felt more at home. Yes, you were a little blue about your unrequited-love situation, but you were determined to focus on how lucky you were to be here. What wonderful friendships you had built this year! How magical it felt to be included, to belong! No, it wouldn’t do to dwell on the one thing, that one little thing…

Making gifts for your new chosen family had been so much fun. In addition to Thor’s beanie (which was now looking somewhat askew on his blonde head), you’d made long, checkered scarfs for Steve and Tony, a pretty maroon shawl for Wanda, and a pair of cute boot-cuffs for Nat. They’d all made very kind ooh-ing noises as they’d each unwrapped their little hand-made gifts from under the tree.

But the project that you were the most proud of was the gift you’d made for Loki: a pair of unbelievably soft, dark-green, fingerless gloves. You had worked incredibly hard on them. It had been slow and painstaking; the soft merino wool was so fine, and the needles so small, they made your hands cramp. The intricate cable-knit pattern you had learned specifically for this project was complicated, and you had pulled out your stitches on multiple occasions in the name of perfection. You only hoped that he would enjoy them. Speaking of which…

“Loki!” Thor boomed suddenly, grabbing the attention of most of the room. “Brother, there is a still a gift under the tree for you!”

Loki’s eyes darted to you, and he gave you a charming smile as he knelt down to pick up the small package. He unwrapped it gently, tentatively peeling back the brightly patterned paper until he held the gloves in his hands. You realized you were holding your breath as you waited for his response.

Loki didn’t look up; he traced the detailed curves of cable knit with one finger. “How – you made these? They’re… How are they so soft?”

You felt your face warming. “Made with love!” you joked, loosely patting his shoulder and laughing. But your laugh was cut short as you saw a look pass over Loki’s face. Oh no.

“Oh, haha – I don’t mean Love love,” you continued quickly. “You know, you’re my friend – friends. All of you. And I- you know, I love you - all.” The end of your sentence was lost in Thor’s smothering embrace, with generous hear-hears from the rest of the team as they chinked glasses and went back to their holiday chatter.

Loki had stood, but he continued to stare down at the open package in his hand. Did he not want them? What was wrong with them? Damn it, you cursed yourself, you should have just gotten him something simple! You didn’t mean the gloves to be any sort of grand gesture… You would never! Stupid. Why didn’t you just get him a cool iPhone case? Because he wouldn’t use it, you admitted to yourself, and anyway, what was wrong with giving your friends nice things and telling them that they were important to you? Nothing, you thought defiantly, and if Loki’s going to be all suspicious and grouchy about it then he can go –

But before you could open your mouth to give Loki the small lecture you were working up to, he had taken three long strides to the common room door and disappeared out into the hallway.

You were astonished. He just left?! Goddamn him and his shitty communication skills! If he’s that upset, he could at least talk to you about it. You talk to him about everything! Maybe that’s the problem, a cold voice muttered inside your head. You’d finally crossed over into “too much”. As usual.

No. No way. This wasn’t fair - he couldn’t just be mad at you and not even give you the chance to explain. Fuck it, you were going to fix this.

You followed Loki into the hall, but by the time you got through the crowded common room, he was well and truly in the lift. You furiously pressed the call button, repeatedly, even though you knew it wouldn’t make a difference to the speed of the damn thing. You watched the digital numbers slowly tick up to the 26th floor.

Finally, after an achingly slow ascent, you made it to Loki’s rooms and banged hard on his door.

“Loki!” you shouted through it. “Open up! You have to talk to me! You have to –"

The door was apparently unlocked; it swung open at your aggressive knocking, and you tentatively stepped into the darkened apartment.

“Loki?” you called, as you walked through the quiet rooms. You were sure he was here – you’d seen the elevator stop on this floor. And besides, where else would he go? “Loki! Loki, please, you have to talk to me. Please don’t be mad. You don’t have to wear them. You don’t even have to keep them. Goddammit Loki, where are you?” you almost shouted the last, as you pushed open his bedroom door.

You were immediately silenced by the sight in front of you.

Loki’s enormous, indulgent bed was decorated extravagantly in Christmas décor. Fairy lights tangled with fresh boughs of fir tree were entwined through the posts, dotted here and there with tiny silver baubles and bright red holly berries. Like a Christmas tree, you thought, mesmerized.

Loki sat underneath the elegantly twisted branches, leaning back against the ornate headboard, his head resting cheekily on one fist as he waited casually for you to spot him. One of his eternally long legs was crossed over the other at the knee.

He was wearing nothing but his trademark smirk and a modestly positioned bright red bow.

“Hello, darling,” he said softly. “Merry Christmas. I hope you like the gift I got you?”

“Loki, I- what? What is going on? How did you – you were barely minutes in front of me! How did you get into this getup so fast?”

Loki’s fingertips gave a little green crackle. Oh. Of course.

“Aren’t you going to unwrap it?” he asked darkly, his cocky smirk even wider.

“I…” Don’t analyse this too much, you told yourself, as you woodenly moved towards him. You reached out an arm to try to pull at the bow, but of course, with him perched in the centre of his enormous bed, you couldn’t quite reach; you lifted one knee onto the mattress, arm still outstretched for the bow… then the other…

Before you realized what was happening, Loki had taken your hands in his and pulled you towards him. He was sitting upright, and he gazed intently into your face, his eyes darting between yours as he quietly murmured to you. “Is this alright?”

You nodded dumbly. Alright? It was everything you had ever wanted – Loki, naked and stretched out before you like a banquet, with a comically large red bow hiding his –

Your eyes widened as you abruptly spotted exactly what the ribbon had been concealing; beneath it, Loki was rock hard. You caught yourself involuntarily wetting your lips with your tongue.   

The low, flickering glimmer cast by the Christmas lights was beautifully romantic, and you felt yourself melt into him as he gently pushed your hair behind your ear, cradling your head in his large hands and firmly pulling your face towards him. His mouth found yours, and your heart beat madly in your chest as he kissed you for the first time.

In all your wildest imaginings, it could never have been like this. His kiss was firm, but his lips were as soft as dew; the tongue gently exploring your mouth was skilled, but tender. Your hands reached for his hips, at last meeting the loose end of the red ribbon and pulling the bow free. Without breaking his kiss, he carefully laid you back on his bed.

Loki’s long, muscled body was now kneeling before you, his lean, strong thighs holding him steady above you as he used his hands to caress your body. It was more sensual that you had even been touched… had ever even dreamt of being touched. As rushes of hot, vivid lust reached every part of your skin, every drop of your blood, you realized you had also never felt so… so safe.

Loki pulled away from you, his perfect torso towering above you as he knelt between your legs. He gazed at you longingly as he slid a hand under each of your thighs. “May I?” he asked throatily.

“Yes,” you murmured, your voice a bare whisper.

Loki didn’t hesitate, almost falling into you as he dipped his head to place his strong, clever tongue upon you. The bliss was immediate and exquisite. You felt yourself writhe under him, heard yourself whimper and moan as he deftly played his fingers over you, in you; every place he found to touch or kiss you came as the perfect note in the perfect order. In the few moments you allowed yourself to open your eyes, you were met with the beautiful scene of Christmas romance he had created above you… Created for you…

His fingers curled gently, knowing the speed and rhythm you needed, and you let him lead you on towards the sweet release he promised you. Your fingers found his raven hair and twisted their way into it, not meaning to pull, but inevitably losing control as he pushed you closer. He moaned wantonly as you tugged.

That was all he needed to pull you over the edge into orgasmic oblivion. You came hard, crying out, pulling his hair again in time with the unconscious pulsing of your pelvic floors. He didn’t stop, pulling you onwards, sucking and licking and pumping as your body continued to convulse, until you cried out again, pulling him away from you as the sensation became too much.

When you opened your eyes to see him above you, he was gazing at you hungrily.

“Loki…” you almost sobbed.

He brought his perfect, sculpted body close to yours; he expertly guided himself to you, the wetness generated by the magnificent orgasm he had given you allowing him to glide into you with ease, despite his generous girth. And when he was settled in you, fit so perfectly inside you, he finally gave in. With a deep growl, he began to move.

“Faster,” you moaned, begging him, needing him to give you more. The stretch you felt as your body accommodated him was magnificent.

His hands still roamed your body; his impressively sensitive touch finding pleasure in your pleasure. His beautiful dark curls hung sluttishly about his sharp face, loose and wild. With eyes closed, his thrusts messy, he chased release above you, until with a sharp groan, he came.

He took a few moments to compose himself, drawing in deep breaths, before opening his eyes to meet yours. In a single movement, he rolled to his side, slipping out of you and easily enfolding you in his long, strong arms, your back to his broad torso. Your chest began to rise and fall in time with his.

With a difficulty that was only partially due to the weight of his arm across you, you pulled yourself away from his chest and turned to face him.

“Loki - what happened? I followed you up here because I thought you were furious with me. Why did you leave in such a rush after you opened my gift? You didn’t like the gloves?”

“My darling,” Loki purred, pulling you tightly back into him. “I adore them. They are utterly perfect.” He gave a dramatic little sigh, and his fingertips traced invisible patterns on your back. “When I opened them, I was overwhelmed with gratitude and wonder. That you would give me something so beautiful… So me… The hours you must have spent meticulously crafting them. And then, that you did it for love…”

“Actually, I said with love,” you laughed.

His fingertips froze their pretty movements on your skin, and you looked up to see his face ashen. “Oh no! No, Loki, don’t be sad. I did… I mean, I do…”

You took a deep breath, and decided, finally, that honesty was the best policy.

“Loki, I do love you. I cherish you. I want to gift you a pair of green knit mittens every Christmas for as long as you’ll accept them.” You paused nervously. “But if you don’t- I mean, if you want to stay friends, I’ll… I’ll be OK… with that-“

“Dear heart,” he murmured into your hair, idly picking at the shreds of red ribbon strewn about you both. “I think we are a bit beyond that. Don’t you?”

“Well…” You chuckled again. “I guess so, yeah.”

Loki gently tucked a finger under your chin, pulling your face towards him so that he could lightly kiss you mouth. “Merry Christmas, my darling.”

“Merry Christmas, Loki.”

Secret Santa taglist

@joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

[jenniferlawrencelover]

All I Want For Christmas is You (Deadpool Edition)-CHAPTER ONE

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Logan Howlett/Worst! Wolverine

Rating: Explicit (MDNI)

Summary:

Wade never thought he would be engaged again.

And he wasn’t.

Yet.

Wade never thought he would be engaged again.

And he wasn't.

Yet.

*

DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS: 26

"Bub, if you don't move your ass out of my face—"

"You weren't saying that last night, sugar butt," Wade shot back with a grin, wiggling his hips just to be annoying. He was balanced precariously on a stepladder, trying to hang a glittery, excessively large tree topper. It was a special ornament to Wade because it was the first thing Wade had stolen for Logan after he saw it in the window of some fancy-ass home decor shop downtown. Wade knew that Logan would absolutely hate it, and therefore he knew he just had to have it. It helped that technically he was already banned from this particular store, because what were they going to do? Ban him again? You can't double-ban him.

Logan did call the cops on him for theft when he brought it home because he's an asshole, but that was neither here nor there.

The ladder wobbled as Wade pushed up to his tiptoes, and Logan's hand shot out and held onto Wade's legs to keep him from toppling over. "You're gonna knock the whole damn tree over," Logan grumbled, eyeing the ornament that Wade was determined to hang despite it being several sizes too big for the spot.

"But think about how majestic it'll look!" Wade finally managed to secure the topper, hopping down from the ladder with a flourish. "Voila!"

Wade took a step back, admiring their work. The tree was a monstrosity of clashing colors and mismatched ornaments. Some baubles dangled precariously from flimsy branches, while others were wedged in tight clusters as if a miniature ornament explosion had occurred. The base was an overstuffed jumble of tinsel, clashing with the bold, mismatched garlands draped haphazardly across its branches. The strands of lights, a patchwork of different colors and sizes, flickered erratically as if they were struggling to make sense of their tangled surroundings. At one point, Wade had seen a spark come from a few of the bulbs, but he was sure that wouldn't be a plot point that was of anything of importance (hint: it was).

The ornaments themselves were oversized, glittery baubles in electric blue and neon pink, intermixed with tiny glass figurines of reindeer and snowmen that seemed to be fighting for space on the same branch. A collection of homemade ornaments—some crafted with excessive amounts of glue and glitter, and all created by moi—were proudly displayed, hanging at odd angles. Among these were paper angels and beaded snowflakes that had clearly seen better days.

At the top of the tree, the crowning glory was the topper Wade had stubbornly hung—a massive, shimmering star that looked like it had been stolen from a Vegas showgirl's headdress. It was practically drowning in sparkles and sequins, casting a dazzling, if somewhat blinding, light that flickered across the room.

The tree skirt, a gaudy mishmash of red and green sequins, was barely visible under the heap of presents Wade had insisted on wrapping in overly festive, holiday-themed paper with garish ribbons. The whole setup was completed with a few hastily strewn candy canes and an abundance of stray glitter that would inevitably find its way into every crevice of their apartment.

Logan crossed his arms, his eyebrows knitted together in a familiar expression of disapproval. "It's an eyesore."

"An eyesore?" Wade exclaimed, feigning shock. "This is a masterpiece! You know, people pay big bucks for this kind of thing."

Logan snorted, unconvinced. "People like you, maybe. I've seen better decorations at a fucking dollar store."

Wade reached up to adjust a strand of lights that had come loose, his fingers deftly rearranging them until they were just right. "Well, I think she's beautiful. And if you will be a good Wolvie and actually help me, maybe later you can even stuff my stocking."

"You're fucking disgusting," Logan snarled.

Wade grinned cheekily, still fiddling with the decorations. "Oh, come on. It's Christmas. I'm just trying to spread a little holiday cheer." He glanced at Logan with a mischievous glint in his eye. "And I know how much you love my festive cheer."

"And by that-"

"And by that, I mean this sweet, sweet ass sugar gum drop," Wade crooned, tucking himself into Logan's warm, broad chest. They stood there for a moment, the soft glow of the Christmas lights casting a warm mirage of light over the room. Wade sighed contentedly, his head resting against Logan's chest. Logan didn't reply, but his arms tightened around Wade.

"You know, we should probably christen the tree properly," Wade remarked, eyes fixated on the flickering lights.

Wade was a huge fan of christening things. Everything had to be christened. Everything. New suit after it was destroyed in a particular marathon of rough sex after a mission? Christened. Logan finally upgraded from a flip phone to an iPhone? Christened. Just bought milk? Christened. 

Did it have to do with the fact that his boyfriend had a body sculpted by the gods and a libido that could match a rabbit high on an aphrodisiac? No, and actually, it's offensive that you would think Wade would reduce his boyfriend down to his sex appeal. What kind of monster do you think he is? Wade's relationship with Logan was multi-faceted, like a diamond with a thousand facets—

You know what? Fine. So what? Is it a crime that Wade likes to have long, raunchy, maybe a little masochistic, probably a little too rough for Disney, outdo-50-Shades-of-Grey-and-eat-your-heart-out-BDSM-etiquette sex with his boyfriend? It's not like Logan's complaining—well, except when he pretends to be exasperated with Wade, which is just part of his charm. Get off his ass, or maybe eat it while you're down there.

Wade's lips brushed Logan's ear as he whispered in a sultry, teasing voice, "Maybe a few strategic baubles to enhance the mood. I could even drape some tinsel over us like a sexy holiday blanket. Just me, you, some eggnog—"

"You mean that shit you made in the blender? I don't think eggnog is supposed to be that color."

"It's a festive green. Besides, I added extra nutmeg. Trust me."

Logan gave him an unconvinced look, clearly not buying it.

"Come on," Wade whined, turning around in Logan's arms and pouting up at him. "It's Christmas-"

"It's not Christmas, it's November."

"-I've even put up some Mistletoe. Are you really willing to disrespect the ritualistic customs of Mistletoe? What kind of monster are you?" Wade says aghast, clutching at the invisible pearls.

Logan didn't respond at first, his gaze scanning the room before flickering back to Wade. "I don't see any mistletoe."

Wade wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, his grin widening. "It's hidden. Wanna take off my pants and find out where?"

Snikt

[ishaslife]

A Starlit Rendezvous

One-shot

spawn!Astarion x f!oc (noble) Isla

Genre: fluff, fantasy, romance

(*) Check bottom of the post for photos relating to the fanfic.

Summary: Set about 5 years after the game's events; Isla and Astarion are now lauded as heroes of Baldur's Gate. Celebrated for having saved the world from the tyranny of the Absolute. Astarion holds a prestigious position in society but is able to work only at night due to his "sensitive skin condition," people don't question it as they are quite influencial people. The two have been invited to the theater by his colleagues and decide to spend the evening outdoors.

The sun had set in Baldur's Gate, the city looked almost beautiful in the glow of the pink sky and stars had started to show, though not as clearly as they did out in the wilderness during their travel. Isla and Astarion had been living a quiet life since they stopped the Absolute and saved the world. Well, as quietly as they could...

"Are you ready, my dear?" Astarion was dressed in some of his best attire, he liked to look good. Not necessairly to impress anyone, well, maybe his beloved... but simply because he wanted to. After sifting through several doublets, he eventually settled on one – a maroon piece adorned with gold buttons and intricate embroidery.*

"We'll be late if you take any longer" '...even I don't take this long.' Astarion mumbled to himself while adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. 

"Ugh, the carriage won't wait forever, darling!"

"I'm almost there!" Isla called out as she descended the mansion's grand staircase. "Gods, your impatience echoes up to our room," she said with a playful giggle.

Astarion let out a soft sigh as he gazed upon her, his hand instinctively finding its place over his heart. "Oh my darling, you look absolutely breathtaking! Come on, give us a spin." Isla twirled in her rich crimson evening gown, a delicate velvet masterpiece adorned with gold beads and embroidery. Nothing too flashy but eye-catching enough to fit the occasion.* She greeted Astarion with a graceful curtsey, a radiant smile gracing her lips. He gallantly took her hand, planting a gentle kiss on the back of her palm, and then elegantly intertwined her arm with his.

"Shall we?"

"Of course my love, but before we go-" as they were about to step out of the door, she stopped him in his tracks and planted a small peck on his cheek which made his cheeks and the points of his ears redden. He tried his best to hide it with his hand and an awkward chuckle. Despite the years they'd shared, it remained a mystery to her how something as simple as a kiss could still make him fluster, but a sweet mystery nonetheless.

"Time to face the music!" They laughed and entered the carriage. When they finally reached the theater, it was a sight to behold, a grand place that could hold almost the entire elite of Baldur's Gate. After a few greetings, they were led to a comfortable compartment adjacent to Astarion's peers and they watched the play commence. Alone and apart from the rest of the crowd, Astarion reminisced about how different it was compared to his mortal days, even though he could only recall fragments. He marveled at the memories he did retain – the bustling crowd, the diverse characters that frequented the place, their varied walks of life. It was captivating how adept Astarion was at discerning people's social standing, distinguishing the wealthy, the even wealthier, and the wealthiest, and those who merely put on a facade. 

He said, "Clever, isn't it? You see, true nobility doesn't flaunt, they don't need to. They don't drape themselves in jewels or don their finest silks for a place as drab and unruly as this. No, they're always anxious, fearing that their precious possessions might vanish. These baubles are their only tether to the pinnacle of privilege after all." he chuckled "Meanwhile, the lower rungs of society will adorn themselves with every trinket, gem, and finery they can find."

He paused for a moment and continued, "not everyone is that complicated of course. There are those like our good selves, who simply dress well because we can."

"true, but why do some go through so much trouble?" Isla asked, she knew the answer of course but she wished to indulge him nonetheless. She liked to hear him talk.

"Well, it's all about ensnaring the gaze of the former, naturally. They aim to wed their offspring to these prestigious houses, securing influence and, of course, money."

"Gods, I hope I wasn't quite so predictable when we first met."

"I had expected you to be, but you... you defied my expectations. You were a delightful suprise I hadn't anticipated. Of course, now you're somewhat more decipherable, but that's only because I've come to know you so well. In those days, I was so confused as to why I couldn't understand you, it drove me insane. But... I suppose that's why I fell for you." He gently took her hand once more and kissed it as the play concluded. However, neither of them paid it much mind, despite Astarion's deep appreciation for the arts. Tonight, his focus was solely on cherishing his beloved.

It was now past evenfall and into the early hours of the night. They had whiled away the evening at the theater and continued their night at a charming pub, where they mingled with the upper echelons of Baldur's Gate's high society. Throughout the evening, they had the pleasure of meeting a handful of actors, although Astarion couldn't help but notice how some of them couldn't seem to avert their gaze, their eyes frequently drawn towards Isla. This stirred a touch of jealousy in him, prompting an impulsive act of intertwining their fingers, giving her a swift peck on her cheek, or casually draping his arm around her shoulder. It was as if he were silently conveying, "Don't even consider talking to her."

As more time slipped away, Astarion and Isla bid their farewells to their acquaintances. They were about to enter into a waiting carriage to return home when Isla paused and said- 

"can we perhaps, walk? It's just that... The night is so beautiful, and it feels like ages since we've strolled together, aside from those distant days when we journeyed the Sword Coast."

"Hmm, you're right. It's high time we created some new memories, isn't it?" Astarion replied with a soft smile, the kind that creased the tails of his mouth ever so slightly. 

The two of them strolled through the winding streets of Baldur's Gate. The evening was graced with a gentle, warm breeze, and the sky overhead was adorned with a canvas of stars. 

"They're beautiful tonight, even if they're not so clear," Astarion remarked, looking at the sky. Isla couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu; it seemed like he had made a similar observation once before.

As they walked hand in hand, they passed by lively street vendors selling exotic wares, their voices carrying the scent of spices and roasted meats. The laughter of revelers spilled out from the bustling taverns and inns, filling the air with a joyous ambiance. 

They decided to stop by the upper city gardens to rest their feet. Isla laid her head gently of Astarion's shoulder, he was a little taken by suprise but he didn't mind.

"Ugh, I won't lie, all this walking has made me a little... hungry." Astarion stated, feeling a little tired. 

"Don't worry my dear, we'll be home soon. There's plenty of 'wine' waiting for you." Isla replied, a tinge of playfulness in her voice, hinting at their shared secret.

Isla gazed out at the children in the park, even though it was quite late into the night, they continued to play after their dinners. Their parents kept a watchful eye on them from afar while engaging in conversation amongst themselves. A spontaneous smile graced her lips, one that had emerged without her awareness, until she overheard a young boy yell,

"MISTER! MISTER!" 

The boy darted up to Astarion, catching them both by surprise. Despite Astarion being seated, the boy stood much shorter and couldn't have been older than 5. 

Astarion, a tad confused, inquired, "What is it, little one? Do you need something?"

The boy placed his hands into Astarion's and responded with awe in his eyes, "Sir, I couldn't help but notice your eyes. They're so pretty, they look like rubies. Do you have gems for eyes, mister?"

Astarion, taken aback, struggled for words but managed, "Well... dear boy, my eyes are very much real."

"Really? Can I have a closer look then, mister?"

Isla watched the heartwarming interaction unfold with a gentle smile. Astarion, while still slightly uncomfortable, couldn't help but smile either. He knelt to meet the boy's gaze, allowing him a closer look. Soon, more children joined, their eyes fixed on Astarion's.

After a moment, Astarion, with a hint of playful sternness, quipped, "Are you quite finished with your scrutiny, young ones?"

One of the children spoke, "I hope my eyes are as pretty as yours one day, sir. Mine aren't a unique color like yours."

Astarion, his demeanor softening, said, "Oh, come now, your eyes are beautiful too, like stars in the night sky! Don't wish to be anyone other than yourself, child. Always remember to be strong, fearless, kind, and... well, sweet. Just as you were now." It was a tender moment, one in which Isla realized, she hadn't seen him with children before, and it warmed her heart to witness him in this gentle role. 

As the children continued on their way, Astarion settled back beside Isla, a faint but genuine smile lingering on his face. She couldn't help but keep her gaze fixed on him. Astarion finally broke the silence, "You know, perhaps having one of those around wouldn't be such a bad idea."

Isla found herself taken aback by his comment, and her cheeks gave away her bashfulness as they flushed red. Astarion couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction, a fond and affectionate laugh that filled the night. He leaned in and tenderly pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

Finally, hand in hand, they began their journey back home, their hearts lighter, and the memories of the evening etched in their souls.

*