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aliesbienish · 10 months ago

Note

Hi!! I was wondering if you could please write a Paul x reader where the reader is super pregnant and is hungry all the time and eats the most random stuff and the pack teases her about it until Paul puts his foot down and tells them to back off

Thank you! I’m really enjoying the study of wolves🤍

Hi lovely anon, thank you for this sweet request - I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do x

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Recipe for Pack

There was no doubt who this baby belonged to, even in the womb. Since a few months into your pregnancy you’d been insatiably hungry, snacking continuously. Paul had always been the same, of course his excuse was his shifting. Unfairly that meant he got super hearing and strength while you needed to pee constantly and had nausea that rudely didn’t limit itself to the morning. So constant eating wasn’t an issue, it was the cravings that were becoming a hassle.

Paul, being a secret softie, had tried to cater to your every whim. Whether it was chocolate covered zucchini’s or melted cheese topped ice cream, he kept the judgement to a minimum. However these odd cravings did often lead to late night trips to the nearest 24 hour store located in Forks, a forty minute round trip. One particularly bad evening had him chauffeuring you 70 miles at 3am to Port Angeles, purely for a a chocolate milkshake and fries that got dipped into it. It was a miracle the machine wasn't broken.

But while Paul was nothing but accomodating, it couldn't always be said for the rest of his pack mates. Eating a hot dog with raspberry jam caused Jared to make vomiting noises. Adding leftover mash potato to a smore prompted Quil to question whether you needed a visit to a psychologist. Even sweetheart Seth made a quip that your cravings seemed like ingredients to a witches potion. Which was probably fair, as you munched on a buttered bread covered with rosemary.

But one comment, made sitting around Emily and Sam's dinning table took it too far.

Sitting with what to you seemed like a delightful combination of peanut butter and hot sauce bagels topped with orange slices, it was enough to elicit a groan.

"This seems to be getting way beyond normal now. I'm beginning to wonder if you are actually having these cravings or if you just like to make everyone else uncomfortable!" Jacob declared jokingly, but with your out of control emotions it was enough to stop you mid bite and feel shame.

"Right? I think next she'll just eat straight from the trash, it's not like she is far off!" Laughed Quil, causing laughter around the table.

Your eyes watered as you choked out "I'm sorry,"

"No, don't you dare apologise." Paul stated, gently placing his hands on your shoulders. "It's these morons who have no right to be teasing you." Turning to address the pack he gave them a hard stare. "You are all being absolute dicks. She's trying to survive extreme changes to her body, something we should be particularly understanding about, but instead your being rude and judgemental. If you all don't get your shit together and start being supportive then I will absolutely see if beating some sense into you in wolf form will help the process,"

The next evening you were all once again sitting around the dining table. The pack, showing their support, were all eating your newest and rather tame craving - chocolate covered bacon.

Sam got everyones attention and raised his fork in a toast "To our newest pack member,". The rest of the pack raised their own cutlery and echoed the sentiment.

This time the tears in your eyes were from happiness.

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#twilight x reader #twilight fanfiction #twilight #twilight imagine #paul lahote x reader #paul x reader #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote

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dirtyvulture · 8 months ago

Text

BBB

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader*

18+ only read at your own risk

Word count: 3248

Requested by anon: Hi i love your work..you don't have to do this request if you don't want.. i was kind of was wondering since we haven't heard from Sergeant Nat and reader. If we could hear from them? I was thinking since Nat is always the confident reassured one in that universe like maybe something happens where shes not sure where she stand with reader? Like jealous or maybe reader lets one of her military friends borrow her laptop and they use it to watch porn...and nat finds it and thinks its reader. And nat kind of loses her mind in a way that we havent seen. (Not like crazy but for the first time shes like am i enough). And reader is high key oblivious bc she worships nat. Some communication to sort out and then smutty times. Only if you want. If not i look forward to whatever you post yay.

AN: *Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Thanks for the idea, anon! This was a lot of fun to write. :)

This is Part 5 in my Sergeant Beef series. Read the first one here.

“Hey, can I borrow your laptop?” Sam asks, poking his head into your room.

“Why?” You don’t even look at him, focused on you video game on the tiny television mounted to your wall.

“I dropped mine in the lake, so I had to buy a new one but it won’t get shipped off until later this week,” Sam explains.

“Okay,” you say, hardly listening to him as you race your little car across the screen to bump the giant soccer ball towards the goal. “It’s in my room on the–”

“I know where it is. Thanks.” Sam whisks in and helps himself.

“Close the door on your way out!” you call, just in time to hear the door slam behind him. Turning your whole focus back to your game, your fingers mash the buttons to a triumphant win.

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

A few days later, Natasha is over at your apartment. While the two of you had discussed a thousand times moving in together, you had always stalled or walked around the subject. Natasha wasn’t sure if it was because you were nervous what the public’s perception would be of your relationship, or if you preferred your own private space too much to give it up. Ever since the deployment, you had been more likely to retreat and hide away (even from Natasha) when you were upset or moody. She wondered if it was a side effect of your PTSD, but you never seemed ready for that conversation so she left it alone.

For dinner, you grilled some steaks (setting off the smoke detector in your apartment) while Natasha made a side of mashed potatoes and green beans. Afterwards, you went to take a shower while Natashas lounged around and found a movie on Netflix for the two of you to watch. She sits on the couch, opening your laptop and finding the web browser. She looks up Netflix and then browses through the recommendations on your home page, but none of them pique her interest.

She goes onto Google to search what other people are recommending and wades through a sea of titles and descriptions to find one. Swapping back and forth between tabs, she finds a website with a host of titles and flips back and forth until she finds a movie that is both on the list and currently on Netflix. But in the process, she loses track of the tab and accidentally closes it, silently cursing to herself, before going to check the history to find it again.

But what she finds in the history is not what she had been looking for.

Natasha feels almost scandalized when she sees the words “big busty blondes” in your search history, followed by a list of pornsites. While she knew you watched such videos in her absence, she didn’t know what genre you were into, and now a deep sinking feeling of insecurity fills her. She was not blonde, nor was she particularly busty after the years of hard workouts had shrank some of her assets a little. You always told her she had the perfect body, but now she wasn’t quite sure if she should believe you.

“Nat? Did you pick a movie?” You poke your head out of the bathroom. You’re not wearing a shirt and your wet hair is dripping water down your chest, emphasizing the lines of your muscles. Natasha can see the bullet scar on your ribs from the deployment that almost ended your life. But you walked away with every member of your team alive, and your tale of bravery had become something of a living legend in the community.

She knows you could have any woman you wanted. She had seen the way the recruits eyed you and how bold the other brass were with you. Before your promotion to sergeant, you were often overlooked and completely ignored. Natasha, perhaps a little selfishly, always considered herself the catch in your relationship: she was one of a handful of female sergeants with outstanding credentials, and looked great in and out of a uniform. But maybe she thought too highly of herself. You had developed into a very competent sergeant, were extremely good-looking, and had the most lovable personality anyone could ask for.

What if you didn’t want her anymore? What if you wanted someone younger, or someone you could start a family with? Natasha hadn’t yet disclosed to you her inability to have children, but if the subject ever came up, she knew you’d need no other excuse to walk away.

“Nat? Did you pick out a movie?” you ask again.

“Yes,” Natasha says. “We can watch Trolls.”

“Okay. That sounds fun.”

You come out in a sweatshirt with matching gray sweatpants and join Natasha on the couch. Instinctively, you put your arm around her shoulder and she snuggles against you, letting you rest your head against hers.

You seem to enjoy the goofy children’s movie, laughing out loud at the jokes and cheering when the main characters hug by the end. But Natasha can’t focus for a second, still thinking about the search history on your laptop. She didn’t even know if it was something she should bring up, but it was already eating her alive to think that she wasn’t good enough for you.

Natasha didn’t know if she would be able to survive without you. She would have to do everything she could to keep you by her side.

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

“Give me a sec,” Natasha calls, hurriedly slipping her boots on. She checks herself in the mirror one final time before opening her apartment door to see you.

“Hi, Nat–oh.” Your expression goes flat.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asks, her stomach twisting in knots. Maybe this had been a bad idea.

“You dyed your hair,” you say, blinking at the short blonde hair she was now sporting.

“You don’t like it?” she asks, her worry growing by the second. She had dropped a significant sum at the salon on base to cut and dye her hair. Perhaps this had been a severe overreaction on her part.

“Oh. No, um, it looks very nice,” you stutter.

Natasha is not convinced in the slightest. Her face flushes red and she bites her lip to stop herself from crying in frustration. “That’s okay,” she mutters more to herself than you. “Where are we going again?” she asks, even though she knows every detail of the outing she had planned with you.

“The gym first, then we can get lunch and go grab groceries,” you list off, seemingly oblivious to her awkwardness.

“Yes, that’s right. Okay, let’s go,” she replies sullenly.

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

Natasha isn’t sure what else she can do to hold your attention after the hair dying incident. She tries to be extra doting with you, but all of her efforts seem to go completely unnoticed. You only say “thank you” once when she gets you your favorite chocolate bar from the commissary. The next time the two of you are in bed together, Natasha feels like she has to guide you through all the motions and you fuck her with a concerningly low level of enthusiasm. Natasha is convinced you’ve found someone else and just the thought of losing you makes her sick.

She’s nearly sent over the edge when she finally gets a text from you:

From Y/N: Can you come over tonight? I want to talk

Natasha feels like the rug has been pulled out from under her feet. Sweat breaks out on her forehead and her stomach starts to hurt like she had a bad meal. What if she just didn’t go to see you? Would you really still break up with her over text?

Her body seems to have a mind of her own as she responds:

To Y/N: Ok

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

“Thanks for coming over,” you say, welcoming Natasha into your apartment. She steps in guardedly, wondering if you’re hiding your new girlfriend under the couch. Or maybe she’s already in your bed. She shuffles down the hallway to subtly peer into your bedroom, which is empty.

“What did you want to talk about?” Natasha isn’t one to dance around the elephant in the room. Besides, she doesn’t want to draw this out any longer than it needs to be.

“Oh. Um…” You sound caught off guard. “Well, I was thinking that–”

“You want to break up with me.” Natasha can’t stop the tears forming in her eyes. She wipes them away, angry at herself for showing such weakness already.

“What? What makes you think that?” Your shock is so genuine, Natasha almost wants to believe you.

Natasha hides her face behind her hand. “I saw it on your laptop last week. The kind of porn you were watching–”

“Porn? I use incognito,” you say. “Unless that doesn’t actually hide things…” you add in a mumble.

“Your search history said you looked up…” Natasha takes a breath. “‘Big busty blondes,’” she repeats, hating the way the words sound off her tongue.

“What?” You sound confused now. “That’s…I don’t watch that kind of stuff. Wait, is that why you dyed your hair blonde?”

“No,” Natasha lies. “But I saw it on your laptop!” she insists, hastily changing the subject.

You pause for a moment, then start shaking your head with a chuckle. “I’m gonna rip him a new one,” you mutter. Then louder, you explain, “Sam borrowed my laptop last week because his was broken. I’m guessing he used it to…you know…” Your expression turns into one of disgust, and Natasha matches it.

“Oh. So, you’re not into big busty blondes?” Natasha is embarrassingly desperate for clarification.

“No, I’m not.” You take a step towards her and hold out your hands. “But I do have a thing for hot redheads who could totally kick my butt.”

“I know,” Natasha says, taking your hands and leaning up to kiss you. Her lips lift into a smile when you return her kiss with more passion than you had all week, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her flush against you. You dig your fingers into her thighs, lightly rolling your hips, and when she feels your hard bulge against her stomach and all of her doubts are cast away immediately. Her face burns in shame when she realizes how quickly she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. You weren’t going anywhere. You were totally in love with her and wanted no one else.

“Wait, so what did you want to talk about?” Natasha asks, trying to ignore the arousal building in her core as you hump her.

“Oh! Um…” Your face reddens, as if you’re so turned on yourself you forgot why you asked her to come. “Uh…I wanted to ask if…you would like to move in with me? Or if I could move into your apartment? Or we could find a new place together…”

Natasha feels like she’s gotten whiplash from the subject change. She had come here thinking you were breaking up with her, but instead you actually wanted to move in with her? Just when she had thought it was never going to happen.

“Why the change?” she asks.

You shrug your massive shoulders. “We spend so much time together as it is. And I was mostly nervous because you know I have those night terrors a lot, but…” You sigh. “I realized I get them a lot less when I wake up next to you.” Natasha wants to melt in your arms. “And it would be really nice if I got to wake up next to you every day. And eat every meal with you. And–”

Natasha cuts you off with a hard kiss. “Yes,” she pants, groping for the tie on your sweatpants and pulling them down. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”

“Nat,” you whine when she grabs your cock. She feels it throb in her hand and her arousal spikes. As high as her own sex drive was, there was little else that turned Natasha on more than to see how excited you were for her. She pushes you towards the bedroom and you understand without needing words, obediently sitting down on your bed and pulling you on top of her. You grunt when her weight lands on your thighs and Natasha immediately props herself on her knees; sometimes she forgets about the injury on your right thigh that still causes you pain sometimes.

“Sorry baby,” she whispers while leaning in to kiss your cheek. It had been a long and sometimes frustrating journey to get back to the same level of intimacy the two of you shared after the deployment ambush and your recovery. The medicines you were on had drastically affected your mood (and performance) and there were still some positions you could no longer do because of the strain it put on your body. But Natasha had been patient and gentle with you, even when all she wanted to do was fuck you senseless. Over time your strength and stamina had come back, and Natasha was thrilled you could still please her in bed.

She leans back and takes her shirt off while you mirror her. You’re almost back to your weight as before the deployment, but the physical therapy has encouraged you to work out even harder, so you are more muscular and toned than before. Natasha eyes your body hungrily, her hand reaching out to trace the scar on your ribs. While she hates the memory attached to your scar, she can appreciate how much more badass it makes you look.

“Nat,” you say, and she breaks out of her thoughts. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” She pushes you to lie on your back, rolling her clothed lower body against yours. “Everything is very okay.” Her hands skate across your warm skin, squeezing your biceps before resting on your chest, balancing herself as she rocks back and forth. Even though you’re still wearing boxers, Natasha can feel the hardness of your dick pressing against her butt.

“All ready for me?” she hums, digging her nails lightly into your chest.

“Always,” you respond, rolling your hips to match her rhythm.

“Hmm.” Natasha contemplates how she wants you today. You almost never call the shots in bed, but you have no problem with Natasha taking control most of the time. She likes how submissive you are to her and your willingness to please her even at your own expense. But she isn’t feeling selfish today and wants you to relax and enjoy too.

Her body seems to have a mind of its own as she humps along your abs, eventually pushing her panties to the side so you can feel her heat on your stomach.

“Nat,” you whine, gripping onto her waist to guide her movements.

“Just let me ride you,” she says, lifting off of you for a moment to remove her panties completely, and the two of you moan when she settles back on you. You flex your abs until Natasha swears she could grate cheese on them. She angles her hips back and widens her legs so she can drag her pussy along the ridges of your abs, smearing her wetness everywhere. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” she moans.

“So do you,” you say, your hands tightening around her waist.

Natasha moves her hips faster, sliding back until she can feel your cock practically poking a hole through your boxers. She’s just warming herself (and you) up and doesn’t want to rush to the main event. But as she hears your whines and feels the tension in your body, all she wants is for you to flip her over and fuck her until she can’t walk.

“Can you do exactly what I ask you to?” Natasha pants, the building arousal in her stomach almost painful now.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, Sergeant. Whatever you want.”

The use of Natasha’s title makes her pussy clench around nothing. Her body aches for you and she’s done playing around.

“Good. I want you to get on your knees and fuck me,” she demands, abruptly climbing off of you and presenting her backside to you. You scramble to obey, wasting no time lining up your cock with her soaking pussy and pushing in eagerly. Natasha inhales sharply when your length stretches her out, filling her perfectly and reaching places she could never reach with her hand or a toy. When you start moving your hips, she whimpers and moans, gripping handfuls of the bedsheets so you don’t slam her into the headboard.

She spasms around you with every stroke, clenching tightly and trying to draw you in as deep as you can go. Natasha loves to hear you moan, knowing she was the cause of them, and more of her slick leaks out around your cock.

“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, your thighs slapping against her butt with every thrust. “You always feel amazing.”

“Harder,” she begs. “I want you to cum when I do.”

“I’ll try,” you respond, your breathing ragged as you start to falter in your rhythm.

“Fuck, you’re in me so deep,” Natasha moans, wishing that despite your already above-average size, you had more to give her. She lets go of the bedsheets and slips her hand down between her legs, rubbing her clit for added stimulation. “Don’t you dare stop,” she warns, noticing the way your legs are shaking and your thrusts are losing their power.

“I won’t,” you whimper, and Natasha is not convinced you’ll be able to last much longer. Her hand glides back up to her stomach, where she can feel the bulge of your cock through her skin. That alone nearly sends her over the edge, but she has one more request from you.

“Bite me,” Natasha pants, motioning to her right trapezius muscle. Normally, she is very against you marking her during sex because she doesn’t want to worry about hiding them, but now she is panting at the thought of you finally staking your claim on her.

“Bite you?” you say, sounding extremely timid.

“Yes!” she growls, not wanting to repeat herself. “If you don’t bite me, I won’t let you cum.”

You moan and tighten your grip on her waist. Natasha feels your cock throbbing inside her, but she knows you won’t finish without her permission. The bed creaks as your weight shifts and she feels your chest press against her back as you lean over her. She hums in anticipation, feeling your breath across the back of her shoulder. Your teeth graze her skin lightly, your hesitancy obvious.

“Y/N,” she moans, pushing back into you and squeezing your length. “If you don’t fucking bite me–”

Your teeth suddenly clamp down sharply and Natasha keens, gushing around you and not even noticing you finish inside her. White spots of pure pleasure burst behind her eyelids and she feels cum drip down her thighs. It feels like she’s riding out the high forever, but when she finally unwinds, she feels your weight pressing into her back and a dull stinging in her shoulder. She twists her head to see the clear imprint of your teeth in her skin, the flesh reddening already.

“Sorry if that was too hard,” you say softly, as if you’re embarrassed by following her instructions.

“Nonsense,” she says, reaching behind her to cup the back of your neck. She pulls your head down against hers and nuzzles against your cheek. “Next time, you can bite me harder.”

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AN: Sorry to Sam lol

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #sergeant beef au #natasha romanoff x reader

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lostintransist · 3 months ago

Note

COOKED. BAKED. BARBECUED 🙏 thank you☆

Thank you! I enjoy writing shorter fun blurbs amidst my giant ass stories.

Anon I have been looking for an excuse to write about this smarmy asshole for a while. Excuse me while I run with your compliment 😅😘

Phillip Graves loved heading home after jobs. The shift from dry air recirculating air of the plane to the moisturizing soup that passed for oxygen in the south east of Texas was the first sign he could relax.

The second sign often was his sister's incessant calls to his phone as she circled the airport waiting for him. Lillian hated waiting for her little brother. She complained he took an excessive amount of time to escape the airport despite him never checking a bag and having the skills and leg length to stride past hordes of others attempt to escape the liminal hell that is the airport.

If ever you meet a powerful man and want to be reminded he is no more than a man, you should see him with his family. They do not care if their brother can topple governments. He is just a person who flinches when his sister points a wooden spoon at him too aggressively. He can't forget the times it connected before.

The third sign that Phil had arrived home was the smell of BBQ drifting into his nose. The owner of the food truck had found a perfect spot to set up three times a week; the parking lot of a local gym. Stupidly smart businessmen.

Phil could hold himself back from many things. Fall off the bone ribs after a hearty work out could never be one of those things.

He has noticed you inside the gym. Of course he did, it was his job to notice. You were strongly built, a feast for his eyes.

Phil had learned dainty was never going to pull him in quite like the ability for a woman to lay him out if he mouthed off. Or tie him down and edge him to hell, whatever her prerogative happened to be. Mmm his last girlfriend hadn't been interested in strapping him to the bed and fucking him within and inch of his life. Yeah, that's what he needed on this leave—days without leaving the bedroom and a woman who would fuck him like she hated him.

Now Phil is an opportunist; he won't take shots that will likely miss. He noticed you in the gym but only let his fantasies run wild and not his mouth. He finished up his workout and left the gym, presumably leaving you behind for good.

He would have left you behind, but it seemed you also had a hankering for some of the best BBQ in the state. You seemed smart enough not to say that out loud though. Highly contested titles were highly contested for a reason.

Having gotten his overfull styrofoam box Phil settled in the one patch of shade near the food truck. Everyone else piled back into their cars and drove away to enjoy, but Phil didn't want to wait. The meal settled on his knees he dived in.

When you join the queue, spandex pulled snug across your body, Phil watches. Taking in the view of you moving with a purpose and smiling at the man taking your order, he adds these to the mental files for later. Creepy? Maybe. But he didn't make it your problem.

Tucking into his meal Phil is pleasantly surprised when the sound of shoes slapping concrete pulls him from the haze of good seasoning and moist meat. Looking up, it's you.

Instead of offering a smile like southern hospitality instructed, you point to the shade next to him.

"That free?"

Phil lifted a brow and gestured to the open space with an elbow. Swallowing down his bite, Phil lets you settle before he speaks up. The rib pinched between his fingers has a bite left. He didn't learn much from his father, but he did learn not to waste his food.

"That accent is too strong to have been here long." Phil presses the knuckle of one hand to his mouth he cleared his throat. "What brought you out this way?"

"A cheating man, why else does someone move here?" You give him a hard side eye as you dig into your mashed potatoes.

He opens his mouth to continue the conversation, ignoring the clear 'I don't want to talk about this' vibes you are throwing off.

You cut him off before the air can leave his lungs to form words.

"I'm going to a sex party tonight."

Ah so you had learned how to get the religion folks to back off. Interesting. Meant you had been out this way a while.

"Interesting, which club?" Phil keeps his eye on his food as he names off a few larger ones and several smaller ones. He clocks the slight twitch when he picks the right one.

"You sure know a lot of clubs out here," you glance over to him with narrowed eyes before picking up your own rib.

"Mmm. Maybe I'll see you out tonight," Phil drops the information casually like he hasn't adjusted every plan he has in the hopes of wearing you like a mask.

"Maybe," you reply noncommittally.

Silence between the gusts of wind is all that is between you until Phil suckles the sauce from his fingers and closes his box. The best thing about this food truck is the leftovers.

Phil stands, throws you a wink, and walks to his lovingly restores 1960's Chevy truck.

Imagining the look on your face when he is introduced as one of the owners of the club you are going to tonight got him through. Through the rest of the day with his sister, through dinner with his family without punching someone out, and through the traffic that would normally have him cursing people out in all his favorite swear words from across the globe.

He had been wrong. The look on your face was better than anything he could have imagined.

Masterlist

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x you

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littlelovelunette · 5 months ago

Note

I love your writing so muchhh🩷🩷

Can you write some holiday stuff like they went to go celebrate Christmas with vanders family and then after they go home fuck possibly, but like make it messy and nasty

It's The Holidays

Contains smut, fingering, squirting

Everyone's sane and alive AU!

Someone complained I didn't mention ages here, so let me just state the obvious— this is smut so Vi and Reader are obviously 18 or above.

Thank you, Anon, and nice req, I gotchu

Snowflakes drifted lazily through the crisp Zaun air as you and Vi walked hand in hand down the bustling street, the glow of lanterns reflecting off the wet cobblestone.

Vi’s breath puffed in front of her, cheeks tinged pink from the cold, but her fingers squeezed yours, a silent promise of warmth.

"Vander's got the whole place decked out," Vi said with a smirk. "Bet you anything Mylo rigged up something stupid again."

When you reached The Last Drop, the scent of spiced cider and roasted meat spilled out into the street, a stark contrast to the chill outside.

The tavern was unrecognizable—garlands of evergreen and twinkling lights stretch across the rafters, mismatched ornaments dangled from hooks, and a battered old wreath hung proudly on the door.

Inside, Vander stood behind the bar, arms crossed, watching as Claggor struggled to lift a massive pot of stew onto the counter.

Powder darted between them, a bundle of homemade paper snowflakes in her arms, giggling as she flung them into the air.

"Hi!" Powder exclaimed, barreling toward the two of you, her arms wrapping around your waist in a tight hug. "You're finally here! I saved you guys a seat next to me!"

Vi ruffled Powder’s hair before grinning up at Vander. “So, what’s the damage?”

Vander chuckled, shaking his head. "Let’s just say Mylo tried to string lights up outside, and now half of ‘em don’t work."

"I told you it would work!" Mylo yelled from across the room, waving a half-eaten roll in his hand. "Claggor just dropped the damn power source!"

You and Vi exchanged a look before bursting into laughter, the warmth of the tavern settling in your chest.

The night unfolded in a blur of joy. Powder dragged you to the small corner where a tiny, uneven Christmas tree stood proudly, decorated with makeshift ornaments—glass bottle shards wrapped in ribbon, gears polished to a shine, and Vi’s contribution: a crooked metal star she welded herself.

Vander made his rounds, ensuring everyone's plate was full, his hearty laugh filling the air as he shared stories from past holidays.

Dinner was loud and chaotic, a mix of clattering plates, teasing jabs, and warmth that makes the world outside seem like a distant memory.

Vi kept stealing bites from your plate, smirking whenever you swatted at her hand, and Mylo nearly choked on his drink when Powder launched a spoonful of mashed potatoes at him.

As the night winds down, you found yourself curled up on the worn couch near the fire, Vi tucked against your side.

Powder dozed off, her head resting on your shoulder, while Claggor and Mylo argued over who had to clean up.

Vander watched over them all, a mug of cider in hand, his expression soft with something like pride.

Vi leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "Told you it’d be fun."

You smiled, lacing your fingers through hers. "Yeah… best Christmas ever."

And as the fire crackled, casting warm flickering light across the room, you knew there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

"Wanna take this to my room?" Vi wiggled her eyebrows and you couldn't help laughing.

"Sure." You wrapped your arms around her neck, as she picked you up. Vi walked through the narrow corridors and reached her room. You opened the door for her as she carried you inside bridal style.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you." Vi put you down on the bed after locking the door and hovered over your figure.

"Just fuck me, yeah?" You smiled a little, reaching up and pressing a kiss against Vi's temple.

Vi's ears turned red slightly but she composed herself and gently tugged your panties down, pushing the skirt of your dress up.

"Ready?"

"Mhm." You hummed out.

Vi's fingers rubbed over your pussy lips and slowly dips inside to tease your slit making a small throaty moan break out of your mouth.

"Shhh," Vi's other hand clasps down on your mouth, "Powder's room is close by mine, don't moan too loud or she'll hear it."

You flushed a little, getting wetter at the thought of getting caught. You nodded either ways and moaned against Vi's hand.

Vi's fingers slowly delved inside your slit rubbing against your inner walls and scissoring through the tightness. "Is this your first time?"

"Mhm." You hummed behind her hand making her laugh softly.

"Im your first?"

You nodded again making Vi blush a little redder and continued gently pulling her finger back and inside.

You mumbled her name through her hand making her remove it. "Yeah?"

"Fuck me roughly. Please, take my virginity, be harsh with me."

"Oh, my love." Vi pressed a kiss on your forehead. "Are you sure?"

"Mhm..."

Vi got up, shifting to take all your clothes off and taking hers off too. You smiled at her naked frame and spread your legs.

Vi leaned down and shoved her fingers back in your pussy, putting one of your legs over her shoulder. You gasped and used one hand to muffle your moans. Her fingers were so fast and so hard making your hips buck up for more.

Vi bit down on your neck, leaving hickeys all over your skin for everyone to see. You knew you'd need makeup to cover it.

Your hands encircled around Vi's form as you desperately hung onto her. Her fingers thrusted in and out of you at an incredibly high pace.

Your juices were spilling all around Vi's fingers and sheets, the room was filled with the squelching sounds issuing from your cunt.

"V-Vi, I feel weird." You whispered in her ear, Vi smirked a little, adding a third finger making your toes curl as you squirted around her digits.

"Oh, baby, you squirt?" Vi smirked making you blush.

"It's never happened before." You whined softly.

Vi just smiled down at you before engulfing your lips in a soft kiss, tongue slipping past your lips.

Now, you were sure— this was the best Christmas ever.

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