#I’ve seen the Glass gets put into microwave and think it’s funny but like genuinely I am confused on why this is a thing lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stunt-lads · 4 years

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Sex on a counter/table/desk. But make it a pool table and mmmmmm trashstack? 👀

“Jesus Ben, how much money do you have?”

Ben laughs but Richie is genuinely in awe. He’s been traveling since they reconnected, not the level Mike’s been doing it (Mike flew out to fucking Bill’s house, there’s no way Richie’s gonna do that...yet) but he’s been driving to the nearest Loser he can. He’s already overstayed his welcome with Stan and Patty (not really but Richie knows Stan’s patience is finite.) And Eddie’s been dealing with his own nonsense (his divorce has been hell and Richie’s a nuisance but not an asshole.) And, well, maybe Richie’s been playing favorites. Maybe he’s been visiting the Losers he’s attracted to so he can get the stupid feelings out of his system.

Sue him.

Except not really because he’s well off but not that well off.

And not as well off as Ben either apparently.

“It’s just a basement Richie.”

“Benjamin. Don’t be modest.” He lets his eyes linger on Ben’s ass when he walks by before snapping them up to look around again, “You have a fucking theater in your basement.”

It’s not a home theater like Richie’s seen in pictures from his movie star friends, but there’s a surround sound system and a flatscreen set deep into the wall with a counter on one wall with snacks and a microwave and a couch big enough to fit all the losers and then some.

“And a pool table.” Richie’s mind does a record scratch when Ben slides open a door that he hadn’t even seen, the basement nearly doubling in size. There’s not only a pool table, but there’s a bar and a couch and Richie immediately thinks of some fun activities he could get up to in a setup like this.

He licks his lips and swallows to himself as he follows Ben into the second part of his basement.

“Want a drink?” Ben offers and Richie accepts eagerly. He’ll take any reason to not be sober when he’s around people he’s attracted to.

He wonders, leaning against the pool table and watching as Ben pours them both some cognac (the absolute bastard of course it’s cognac), if Ben would be down to fuck. He chokes on his own spit at the thought and clears his throat when Ben looks up at him curiously.

“You ever play?” Richie asks, choosing not to comment on his own thoughts.

“No one to play with.” Ben says, shrugging and gently handing Richie his drink.

“Shit Haystack, let’s play!” Richie barely, barely, refrains from downing his whole drink in one, but he’s not that stupid, this shit’s expensive and he’s gonna savor it.

Ben laughs, sipping from his own glass, “Yeah, alright, let’s do it!”

Richie didn’t think it through, not really. Because yes, he wanted to play pool with Ben because it’s fun. It’s a fun game. But he did not take into account that he, Richie Tozier, is a horny bastard.

More than once he caught himself staring at the way Ben would lean over the table, imagining how easy it would be to just slide his hands up Ben’s sides and bury his dick in his ass.

Richie is grateful for the crack of the cue ball hitting the others when it happens because it draws him from his thoughts.

He isn’t sure how it happens, just that he’s taking his turn and Ben’s gone real quiet, so he looks over and Ben is staring at him the way he’s been staring all fucking night and oh boy, does that make him feel hot.

Richie can work with this. He stands up, putting on a bit of a show and stretching his back as he does so, walking around to the other side to continue his turn.

“So,” He hopes he sounds casual, “You been seein’ anyone?”

His face heats in embarrassment and Richie revels in it.

“Just,” He clears his throat, downing the last of his drink before he answers, “Just Bev sometimes.”

“‘Sometimes’? What does ‘sometimes’ mean Benny boy?”

“She’ll come over and we’ll...y’know, and then she goes home again.”

“So is it like, an open relationship or friends with benefits?”

“Why’s it matter?”

“It doesn’t, I’m just curious.” The game is forgotten, Richie doesn’t care about it because all he hears right now is that Ben is available to fuck.

“Yeah, well, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you, y’know.”

“Ben, we’re both adults here, you can ask me if I’m having sex on the reg.” Richie is delighted by the way Ben’s face turns red and he barely stops himself from marching over to the bar, he laughs a little before pretending to be interested in the game again, “But, no. Haven’t really been interested in anyone lately, and I’ve never been one to do the whole ‘romance’ thing.”

“I’ve been told I’m ‘too much’.” He punctuates the sentence with his turn, letting the crack of the balls make sound so he doesn’t have to deal with how badly that phrase has always hurt him.

He doesn’t miss the way Ben’s face looks sad for a moment as he comes back around to stand next to him, and he wonders if he should play the sympathy card to get some sex. But, nah, if it were Stan or Bill, yea sure, but Ben is too nice for that.

“Anyway, what I’m hearing is you’re available,” Richie says, downing the rest of his drink, “You wanna fuck?”

Ben’s eyes widen to near comical proportions and Richie laughs. He can’t help it, it’s just so funny to see Ben so embarrassed.

“I—I’m straight?”

“Ben, sweetie,” Richie says it slowly, like he’s trying to explain to a child, “straight men don’t stare at their male friends asses when they bend over a pool table.”

He sees the hesitation and he smiles, a little more forced than before, he can play this off, even if he did want Ben’s dick so far in him he tastes it, or his dick so deep in Ben he’ll feel it for days after. He opens his mouth to joke it off, tell him he’s just kidding, but Ben speaks first.

“No. I mean, I’ve only ever slept with women. I don’t—I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Oh. Oh. Yeah, Richie can definitely work with this.

“Lucky for you I know exactly what I’m doing.” He digs in his pocket, pulling out a small travel sized bottle of lube and Ben scoffs. Richie looks up, suddenly apprehensive but then he sees the fond smile on Ben’s face and he grins to match it.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you planned this Tozier.”

“It never hurts to be prepared Benny boy.”

“Where...where are we gonna—?”

“Right here.” Richie says cheerfully as he hops up on the edge of the pool table. He tugs Ben close by his shirt collar and grins like a shark, “First, I need to know if kissing is okay, sometimes people don’t like it for hookups. Bill’s not a real fan of it but Bill’s not a fan of much anything if it’s not Mike’s dick—”

“Richie.”

“Right! Sorry! Second, have you ever done anal with a girl?”

“First,” Ben whispers, his voice low, and this feels wayy more intimate suddenly, “Kissing is nice and I don’t mind it. Second, no. I’ve only ever done uh, y’know...”

“P in V, got it.” Richie laughs, why does he sound so breathless? It’s just Ben for Christ’s sake.

“I was gonna say missionary.” Ben mumbles and Richie wants to laugh, to tease him about it, but then Ben’s kissing him and wow, Ben is absolutely the best kisser of all of the Losers. Richie thinks even Bill would be down to kiss Ben. He feels his cock get hard in his pants, pressing eagerly against the zipper. He’d be embarrassed by how easy he is but he can’t because Ben’s sliding closer as he deepens the kiss and Richie can feel his cock hardening too.

Maybe they’re both a little touch starved.

Richie eases Ben back, breaking the kiss even though he doesn’t want to. He wants to kiss him again when he hears the soft broken sound that comes from Ben’s throat.

“Fuck Ben, we haven’t even started yet.” Richie teases gently, he pulls his jeans down, hissing softly as the fabric rubs against the sensitive head of his dick.

“Richie,” He thinks Ben wants to sound incredulous, like he can’t believe Richie went fucking commando, but all it sounds like is desperation.

“Hold your horses, I gotta—” There’s no lead up before he’s sliding two lube covered fingers into his body. He doesn’t usually like bottoming, strangers are always too rough and messy, but with his friends? Sure. Besides, Ben wouldn’t be ready for a dick right away anyways. This is easier.

He’s careful as he prepares himself and he gets a little lost in it, head tipping back and moans escaping occasionally. He’s snapped back to the present when Ben presses a kiss to his throat, open mouthed and full of teeth. Richie lets out a whine he would deny ever came from him as Ben slides him down on his back. The edge of the pool table digs into the small of his back and he’s pretty sure he’ll feel it later, assuming he doesn’t see it in the bruises this will likely leave on his body.

He doesn’t realize Ben’s sliding his hand away from his ass until his hand is replacing his fingers and oh his fingers can go deeper. Richie keens, arching his back as Ben’s fingers scissor him open.

“For never having done this before,” Richie pants out, toes curling as Ben brushes a knuckle past his prostate, “You s-sure know what you’re doing.”

“I’ve fingered girls to get them ready before Richie. Can’t be much different than that.” Richie wants to snark back but then if he does that he might not get a dick in him and he kinda needs that now or he feels like he’ll die.

“Oh good. Wouldn’t want those ladies to ever have to be torn in half by your, assumedly, massive dick.”

“I wouldn’t say massive but it’s not small if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Ben, fucking, just—!” Richie’s getting impatient, there’s four fingers in him now and Ben keeps accidentally, brushing his prostate, like he’s avoiding it on purpose.

“Bossy.” Ben huffs in the kiss Richie initiates, but then his fingers are being removed and Richie feels so empty he could cry, “Do you have a con—”

“Don’t need one, I like to be filled, hurry up.” Richie whines and Ben laughs at him, “You’re laughing. I’m dying without a dick in me and you’re fucking laughing, how could you Ben.”

But then Ben’s sliding into him and Richie forgets how to breathe. Which he’s only aware of because of the way Ben reminds him to. And then he gasps, panting softly into the air of the basement that Richie was making fun of Ben for not even an hour ago.

“B-Ben I—”

“I know,” He doesn’t even sound smug which makes the whole thing worse somehow. He moves his legs shakily, sliding them around Ben’s waist and locking him in.

“Lets go big guy,” He hopes he sounds demanding but judging by the expression Ben makes he just sounds whiny, “Fuck me up.”

Fucking on a pool table is an experience. It’s too heavy to move across the floor with the thrusts Ben makes into him, but damn if he isn’t trying, each thrust so deep Richie’s sure at any moment he’s gonna taste his dick all the way up in his mouth. Plus the creaking of the wood is a little scary, but the way the pool balls end up rolling into the pockets makes them laugh a little.

Overall it’s not a bad experience, just different.

And then Ben does it. He gets this grin on his face as he leans back to stand up straight, pulling Richie to him, making him hiss softly in pain as the felt of the table rubs up his back, bunching up his shirt and it’s not comfortable but he forgets it all as Ben shifts just enough to slide hard against his prostate with every thrust into him. He cries out so loud that he’s sure people in the neighboring states can hear him. His eyes cross and every exhale has him whimpering and whining, clawing at the felt on the table under him.

His whines become louder as Ben reaches between them, grabbing his cock confidently, “C’mon Richie, come for me.” He whispers it and it’s so filthy, so unlike Ben that Richie can’t fucking help it, he comes hard, painting his own stomach and Ben’s hand with his come, his vision is still blurry and doubled even as he tenses and shakes while Ben continues, groaning softly as he comes shortly after. He leans down and presses a kiss to the side of Richie’s face.

“Feel better?” Ben whispers and Richie nods. He smiles like an idiot. There’s a soft throat clearing and Ben’s eyes glance up towards the doorway. Richie tilts his head back and sees Bev and Eddie there, both looking bored.

“Couldn’t wait?” Bev asks, sipping at her Starbucks.

“He’s needy.” Ben shrugs, and Richie hates him for being so nonchalant about it when he feels like he’s boneless on this table.

Bev sighs and rolls her eyes. “The others are gonna be here soon, hurry it up. Patty doesn’t need to know we’re all fucking sex fiends.”

“Richie more than any of us.” Eddie comments idly, averting his eyes as Richie moans, toes curling and back arching just for effect as Ben pulls out, laughing. He can play that game.

“Fu-uhh-ck off.” Richie draws it out, trying to keep the appearance up but he really is fucked out now.

“Can’t believe you let him top.” Bev says, walking past them to get to the bar, “He’s insufferable when he tops, thinks he’s so cool.”

It takes a moment for Richie’s brain to catch up. “What?” “...Oh my god, Ben, did you lie to this poor man?” Ben has the audacity to laugh.

“He’s been staring at my ass since we came down into the basement, I figured if I was the one who had to initiate it and be obvious then I could top.”

“My ass hurts and I’m leaking come and you’re telling me I could have fucked you?” Richie finally asks as he sits up on his elbows.

“Maybe next time you’ll be more obvious.” Ben says calmly, pointedly looking at the theater area where Eddie is actively trying not to listen as he gets snacks ready.

“...That’s different fuck off.” Bev and Ben laugh at him and he smiles, “You’re all such Losers.” He mumbles as he tries to get dressed. Maybe he’ll talk to Eddie about it. Maybe next time they can all get together or maybe Eddie will wanna just hold hands. He thinks he could do that, for Eddie.

#trashstack #poly!losers #ask #ecks barks back #thelxckblog #I COULDNT HELP IT #POLY!LOSERS GIVES ME LIFE AND I JUST #minors dni #not for minors #notsfw

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johannstutt413 · 4 years

Text

(requested by calligomiles)

“Why are you dragging me out of the Doctor’s office, Gummy?” Istina grumbled, head still buried in her book. “I told you I was busy.”

“I know, but I want you to try something and I can’t bring it in the Doctor’s office!”

She gave her friend a curious glance. “Why not?”

“He said he throws up whenever he smells onions.” Gummy waltzed into the kitchen, depositing Istina in a chair, and greeted the other chef who was working. “Hey, Blue! Oh, did you need to move that tray I put out? Sorry!”

“It’s okay, Gumm...” Blue Poison looked up to continue forgiving her, but as she did, her eyes locked onto the other Ursan in the room, and something short-circuited in her brain.

The chef seemed unfazed by this. “Thanks for putting it somewhere easy to find, though! Alright, Istina, tell me what you think!...Hey, Istina? Helloooo?”

“Hmm?” She’d sat her book in front of her and completely engrossed herself in it. “Oh, right. What did you...” Much like the Anura whose eyes she’d just met, suddenly words failed her.

“Are you two okay?” Gummy looked from one to the other as she set a strongly onion-scented pastry-like thing the size of the plate itself.

Istina nodded. “I’m okay...Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon.” Blue’s eyes darted to the side, hoping looking at the floor would help her face cool off faster. “Gummy, um, could you introduce us?”

“Oh, you two haven’t met? Istina, this is Blue - her desserts are a-ma-zing! Blue, this is the founder of the USSG and one of my dearest dearest friends, Istina!”

The advisor adjusted her chair so she could eat while looking into the kitchen. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Blue. Is that your full codename?”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head, turning her attention back to pouring out the cupcakes she’d just finished making the batter for. “My full codename is Blue Poison, but I prefer people call me Blue. Not everyone does, even so...”

“Really? That’s rather rude of them. Gummy, this is really good, but I think you should try less onion next time. The Doctor would probably like this a lot.”

The chef nodded. “I’ll remember that for next time! Well, I’ve got to get to defender training, so I’ll see you later~”

“See you, Gum...Hey, wait a minute...Oh well. Are you baking for a special occasion, Blue?”

“Nothing in particular, no.” She settled them into the oven and walked over to the table Istina was sitting at. “I keep making things for people to enjoy, but only three or four people will.”

The advisor closed her book and cocked her head, her curiosity piqued. “Why wouldn’t people take free desserts?”

“They...They think it’s poisoned, because I’m ‘toxic.’”

“Because you’re an Anura who specializes in poisons?” Istina shook her head. “That’s simply unfair.”

Blue nodded with a sigh. “It is, but there’s nothing I can do to convince them...So, I bake for those who will eat. The Doctor, Gummy, and a few others.”

“Hmm...I’m sorry about earlier.”

“I am, too.” She blushed again. “It was just...I’ve never seen eyes like yours.”

She adjusted her glasses. “Oh? It isn’t an uncommon color for Ursus.”

“It’s not so much their color as their depth. They remind me of a crystal-clear lake - at a passing glance, such a lake seems shallow because you can see the bottom, but in truth it could be a quarter of a kilometer deep and you would only know when you tried to swim to the bottom...I was born near a lake like that. It was very soothing to sit by after a long afternoon.”

“That sounds lovely.” Istina took the compliment about as well as she could, considering it came out of left field. “I admit, your eyes tied my tongue as well. I’ve never seen another like them, and they suit you so well.”

“Oh, thank you...Um, am I keeping you from your book?”

The advisor shook her head. “No, I’ve read this one before. Do you read detective literature, Blue?”

“I’ve read a few, but not often. Most of my reading is recipe or research related.” Blue smiled. “Are you a detective, Istina?”

“I have the reasoning for it, and May would like me to be her assistant, but as much as I enjoy the novels...no, I’m no detective.” She looked down at her half-finished food as she said it, a dark cloud falling over her. A voice, a reaching hand stopped halfway, a moment with irreversible consequences...A choice, half-baked but firm as iron...Baked?

Blue Poison had left her to her thoughts; by the time she broke free of them, Gummy’s meal had a friend on the plate: a pink-frosted cupcake dotted with black orbs. “You seemed to be having a moment, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I appreciate the sentiment. Thank you for your patience.” Istina confronted the dessert with an analyzing stare and a small smile. “It’s cute. You like pink, I see.”

“When I was young, I wanted to dye my hair a more normal color, but then I realized I would need to buy a new wardrobe to accommodate it, so I’ve grown to like it. If I can’t, I’m not sure who else will.”

She picked up the cupcake, looking up at Blue as she did. “I do. The pastel and your smile match quite nicely.”

“Do they teach flattery in those novels?” The Anura went back to blushing. “If so, maybe I should read a few. I don’t know how else I would match you.”

“If matching is a concern, I can wear a pink charm of some kind...Gummy didn’t do your baking justice.”

Blue blinked. “She didn’t?”

“I have never tasted a cupcake so perfectly balanced.” Truly, this was the sort of thing one would expect to find in Victoria. “The blackberries contrast with the cake and keep the sugary sweetness from being cloying without adding any untoward accent flavors, and there’s a citrusy note in the frosting that has a similar effect. On the one hand, I feel as though there are twenty or so different minor flavors, but on the other hand, they all serve to complement the cake itself and do so without intruding on its flavor or each others’. You’re as excellent a baker as Gummy is an Ursus-style chef...and sweet things remind me of better days.”

“Do you not enjoy being at Rhodes Island?” It was a sincere question, spoken with sympathy and genuine concern.

Istina shook her head. “No, I like it here, but...but there was a time I felt less burdened. Before my hands were stained red, before I knew how it feels to lose friends to war, life was much simpler. Of course, without those dark times, I would not have come to Rhodes Island...and I would not have met someone as sweet as you.”

“Oh my.” The Anura fanned herself.

“Sorry, I feel like I’m babbling on.” She finished the cupcake in three bites including the first, looking at the wrapper sadly when it was done. “Did you want some of this dish Gummy made? It needs to be warmed up, but I don’t think I can finish it myself.”

Blue took the plate and walked to the microwave. “Will the Doctor be expecting you back at some point?”

“Between the USSG and my studies, my time in his office is rather inconsistent, so I don’t expect him to come looking for me. After we’re done with Gummy’s ‘taste test,’ left to my own devices I would return to my room to finish reading...But if you’re not busy, maybe we can talk instead?”

“I would like that.” She debated for a moment mentioning something else, but decided against it for now. The microwave beeped, and after retrieving a second fork for herself she brought the now not-quite-rectangular dish back to the table. “Do you have a preference as to where I sit?”

Istina gestured to her immediate left. “Come as close as you like.”

“Funny you should say that...” The Anura moved a chair and made herself comfortable, leaving enough room for the Ursan to move her arms without interfering with each other while still being close enough to feel her presence next to her.

“Funny, you say?” She looked towards her as she dug in once more. “How so?”

Her first bite was delightful. “Mmm. If she and I are equals, I’ve never received a higher compliment. As for the proximity comment, um...You haven’t heard any of the rumors about me?”

“Now that you mention it, I think I may have. I believe I dismissed them as baseless hyperbole. They think touching you is dangerous, somehow?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Blue sighed. “Where I’m from, physical displays of affection are common - we greeted our coworkers with handshakes and our friends with hugs, held hands as we walked, only avoiding one another when not doing so might get other sick - but since arriving at Rhodes Island and displaying my abilities, no one feels safe doing so, and I...I miss it.”

Istina nodded. “I see. Based on foundless rumors and speculation?”

“I don’t know if they think I’m constantly exuding toxins or simply misunderstand my power, but I can’t say they’re entirely baseless. The primary component of the serum I coat my darts with is a derivative of a toxin I naturally produce. However-”

“You say you’re safe to touch?” The advisor reached with her free hand and took Blue’s. “I believe you.”

The Anura stopped her trail of thought and squeezed her hand. “I...You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I didn’t realize how much it would mean to me, either...This is nice. Whenever you need a hand to hold, Blue, find me, okay? I’ll make time for it.”

“I...” She set her fork on the table and her head on Istina’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

The advisor likewise set her fork down and let her hand settle on her new friend’s head, gently playing with her pastel locks. She had plenty of time to get back to her book, but moments like this were far too precious to let slip through her fingers. This time, rather than see an all-too familiar face at the thought of that metaphor, she saw Blue smiling at her, holding out her hand.

Istina took it, and she promised herself she’d never let go.

#arknights #istina (arknights)#blue poison (arknights)#another pair i never would have devised on my own #so uh yeah #after this there's a lot of not-bear stuff #event will be over by the time we get back to them #but believe me #i'm gonna have some fics to write for myself when it ends...#arknights fic

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sserpente · 5 years

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A/N: Request from anons and @wingardium-letmefuckyou. I feel like this is so different from what I usually write when it comes to Loki (you’ll see what I mean, I guess) but it just… happened. Hope you’ll like it. Happy Easter, everyone! ♥

Words: 3626 Warnings: smut, quite a bit of angst

Avengers assemble. Rolling your eyes, you shook your head, grinning at your phone screen where Tony’s message had popped up. You were flattered he considered you an Avenger now but then again, he was only a few yards away in the living room, stretching out his feet on the sofa and sipping a glass of whisky. Nothing serious, nothing to write home about… you shrugged. It was flattering nonetheless.

As a, what the people around you would probably call you, witch, it had taken you quite a few weeks to prove them you were no hostile being, mainly because your powers reminded them a lot of those of a certain God of Mischief who had also taken up quarters in the compound, ever since his grand resurrection before Thanos’ demise.

Oh, the abhorrent expressions on their faces when Thor had insisted on bringing him back, on changing the past and save his only brother even though adopted. You were glad he had. Loki was by far the most fascinating being you had ever met and you had to admit, you admired his seidr, his many tricks and magic inspiring you to improve your own skills and you wondered, regularly at night when one of your hands sneakily disappeared between your legs, whether Loki was as talented in bed as he was in creating illusions. Who were you going to blame? You wanted to have sex with him, without a doubt.

You blinked. Focus. Tony’s message. Right. Sighing, to scare the naughty thought away, you made your way into the living room where the majority of the Avengers had already gathered around the huge leather sofa, waiting for Tony to tell them his news.

“Happy Easter, everyone! Thank you all for hiding in your rooms and not come out except for coffee on this ambiguous holiday…”

It was then you sensed a barely noticeable movement in the corner. Inconspicuously, you glanced to your left, spotting Loki leaning mutely against one of the stone pillars with crossed arms, a few feet away from where your new friends had gathered.

Nobody else had discovered him as of yet. They were all busy groaning at Tony’s sarcastic words and truth be told, you couldn’t really blame them. When one fought aliens, monsters and supernatural Nazi organisations on a regular basis, family holidays like Easter, Christmas and even New Year’s Eve became rather insignificant. To you, however, it had caused the exact opposite. Holidays were one of the few occasions of the year where you could at least pretend to have a normal life and celebrate with family and friends, even if that involved silly little traditions.

Tony seemed to be thinking the exact same thing… or maybe it was just young Peter Parker who had convinced him.

“So FRIDAY and I have organised a little Easter egg scavenger hunt.”

“Seriously, Tony?” Rhodey interrupted. Natasha only chuckled and Thor looked as confused as ever. Amused, you studied the various reactions in the room. Pepper’s was by far the most adorable. The hormones, probably. Pregnant women always imagined doing these kinds of things with their husbands and children. The fact that Tony was about to be a father was probably another reason for this childish Easter egg hunt.

“Seriously. Get in pairs of two. There’s chocolate eggs hidden all over the compound and they all contain clues that will lead you straight to a plane ticket to the Bahamas.”

Rhodey’s mouth fell open. “You’re joking.”

“Would I be joking about the Bahamas?”

Startled, you took a step back when Sam rushed right past you to team up with Wanda, hoping that her mind reading skills would get him some sort of advantage. Next thing you knew, the Avengers erupted in a huddle of enthusiastic voices. Steve decided to search with Bucky, Natasha and Bruce were the perfect match anyway, Thor tried his luck with Peter Parker and Rhodey promised he would win this trip for Happy and himself.

Being the newest member, you were the only one left and while you certainly wouldn’t mind searching alone, it was both a wicked and naughty idea forming in your mind that had you turn around and finally react to the blue gaze staring daggers into your back.

“Are you just going to stand there, Loki?” You loved how his name rolled off your tongue. Like a sweet praline melting in your mouth.

“What is this nonsense?” He asked quietly, approaching slightly. “Why would he hide eggs for you to find?”

You shrugged, suppressing a giggle. Loki was not wrong, the way he said it, it actually sounded quite crazy.

“Not real eggs, silly. Chocolate eggs. It’s a common Easter tradition.”

“And what is it? Easter?”

“It’s a Christian holiday. It celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ.”

Loki frowned, clearly taken aback. “I see… why eggs?”

You laughed. “Good question. I think they’re meant to symbolise said resurrection and then people made up stories about the Easter bunny hiding them for children to find.”

“Easter bunny…” You had to admit, he looked pretty funny when disturbed. Chuckling, you looked up at him, the Avengers around you scattering around the compound. They had learnt quickly to simply ignore the God of Mischief’s presence, if anything because he usually made himself scarce and refrained from any kind of social interaction except for the occasional chat with his brother. That made it all the harder for you to spend time with him.

“Search with me. I could use a trip to the Bahamas.” Maybe you took pity on him and you couldn’t care less about those plane tickets. An Easter egg scavenger hunt, however, was the perfect opportunity to get closer to Loki. You wanted to kiss Tony for the chance.

And much to your surprise, Loki nodded in joyful anticipation. The prosperity of stealing away a dreamy vacation by the beach was too tempting to be ignored. He briefly considered leaving them to you if he won but to simply rip them into tiny little pieces out of pure spite seemed much more alluring. Loki was very well aware that every single one of them had attempted to persuade Thor to leave him to rot in the depths of Hel, trapped in the afterlife when he had sacrificed his own life in order to put an end to Thanos’ schemes. It would be a small, insignificant triumph—but a triumph nonetheless.

“Let’s start in the kitchen.” While the microwave, the fridge and the coffee machine posed excellent hideouts for small chocolate eggs, your main goal was it to stall him. Summoning things was not your speciality, you had to focus hard to achieve a decent result. Pretty soon, however, you realised that Loki was a natural. The chocolate eggs he found within a matter of mere minutes either came with a letter or a blank. Quickly, you ushered him into the hallway and through the backdoor into the sunny garden behind the compound where he spotted another chocolate egg hidden in a bush next to a vast flowerbed.

You had only found one letter thus far, quite useless when it came to the actual scavenger hunt and still, your heart beat faster and faster the closer you came to the massive apple tree blooming beautifully around the corner, close to where you had hidden your own surprise for the God of Mischief.

“Do you celebrate Easter?” He suddenly asked, genuine interest resonating in his voice.

“More or less… I grew up with it, my parents used to hide chocolate eggs for me to find every year. I’m not… well, I believe I stopped being Christian when I turned to witchcraft.”

“And why is that?” Loki smirked triumphantly when he picked up another chocolate egg. A blank, still, he seemed rather pleased with himself when he threw it in the tiny basket you had conjured to carry them all.

“I took interest in various other beliefs, with paganism leading the way. Rune magic and ancient seidr is what harmonises with my body the most. I was consequently starstruck when I faced you and your brother for the first time—actual Norse gods I had read so much about over years of practise.”

“Most of these stories are twisted truths, some of them utter lies.” Loki claimed. Any moment now, he would find it. Bracing yourself, you smiled your sweetest and most irresistible smile. Becoming a witch had made you confident and you made sure to use that to your advantage.

“Maybe… but they never lied about your abilities, now did they?”

“What—” Loki frowned. He had walked around the tree now, spotting the green and golden egg hiding on the grass next to a few condoms. Truth be told, you could not be certain Loki would defer to your unsubtle invitation. There was, after all, a chance he would rudely reject you. In fact, you had never seen Loki initiate any form of social or body contact. But you were willing to take the risk.

“My… whoever designed this egg must have an exceedingly good taste for colours.”

“I meant to decorate it with green and gold jewels too but you see, materialising objects I imagine in my head never turn out the way I want them to.”

Loki spun around. “It is yours, then?”

“I don’t care about that stupid scavenger hunt, not really. But I’ve wanted to be alone with you for a while. You never leave your room, you know.” Leaning against the tree for some sort of support, you listened to your rapid heartbeat and awaited his reaction. Loki simply narrowed his eyes at you.

“Alone with me?” He repeated, almost mockingly. “Is this a subtle request for me to ravish you… right here under this tree?” Gosh… his voice rushed into your ears like liquid gold, saying such depraved words. You held your breath when he closed the small distance between you, pressing you against the trunk so you could feel the strong muscles dance against your clothed skin. Almost thoughtfully, his left hand came up to caress your face. His demeanour changed. Gone was the dominant and intimidating god you had read about, replaced by a young prince unsure of how to deal with your sudden confession.

“You seem so… surprised.” You whispered.

His honest answer startled you. “It must have been a while since a woman took interest in me instead of my oaf of a brother… especially after all that happened since his first, failed coronation.”

It was a painful sting that went through your heart, guilt washing over your body. Your Easter egg was no more than a stupid metaphor for a cheap Tinder match, a quick fuck you would get over with and then on with your life. You had never honestly considered your feelings for Loki to grow beyond sexual attraction. You admired his skills and you worshipped his powers and wit… oh, you would be all too willing to kneel before him and tend to his Easter eggs before focusing your attention to his surely thick and long shaft, to lick over his length and suck on his tip until he rewarded you with his godly seed… without a doubt, Loki would taste delightful. But romantic interest? Potentially falling in love with the mischievous god? You had never considered yourself to be that kind of woman. Not since you had dedicated your life to witchcraft.

“Trust me, I do not want Thor. I want you. Right now.”

If Loki was suspicious, he did not show, his vulnerability vanishing from his stunning blue eyes. You would not claim he had his emotions under control… not if he let his guard slip so easily upon unexpected affection. But now, his smirk was downright malicious.

“Be careful what you wish for, little witch.” He purred into your ear, sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine. His mouth found your neck, brushing lightly over the sensitive skin until you squirmed in joyful anticipation.

“What are these for?” He tilted his head, eyeing the condoms on the ground.

“The condoms? For protection. I have no desire to get pregnant today.”

Loki hesitated. Then, he chuckled.

“Are you familiar with contraception spells?”

“N-no…”

“I shall take care of it, then.” And with that, he captured your mouth in a wet and passionate kiss, lips devouring yours in such a devastated manner you moaned against him, granting him perfect access to slip his tongue past your lips and start a playful fight with yours, battling for dominance.

This first round would be a quick one, you both knew that. Exhibitionism was not your style, neither was it Loki’s. When he claimed a woman, he wished to do so in private. There were not many things he could call his own—but he certainly would when it came to the pleasure of a beautiful naked maiden underneath his strong body.

He growled when he busied his hands with your skirt, sliding it up your thighs so he could tend to the annoying piece of thin fabric separating him from your delicate quim underneath. Without hesitation, he ripped it off your body and tossed it aside, his long fingers taking only a split second to find your wet folds and fondle them excitedly.

You gasped when he parted them to coax your clit out of its hiding place, getting you all worked up and aroused for him—not that you needed any more stimulation; but Loki of course knew how to please a woman. It was something a man did not forget, even after years of confinement.

Moaning loudly, you let your head fall back, exposing your neck to him. Loki eyed you down greedily, studying each of your reactions so intimately you felt a strange, longing sensation in your belly. Like butterflies, fluttering around nervously.

“This will not do…” He decided nonchalantly. With but a flick of his wrist, your clothes vanished. You felt the all too familiar tingling of seidr dancing over your skin, then the cool spring breeze having goose bumps decorate your limbs, your nipples hardening both from the sudden temperature change and your imminent arousal. “Hmm… much better…” Loki mused. All you managed in response was another, blissful moan.

Oh, happy fucking Easter. You sighed when Loki removed his fingers from your sex to free his aching and pulsing member from his tight leather trousers, barely sliding them down his pale but well-defined thighs. And seeing his erection was no small thing. He truly was a god and you longed to taste that long shaft and please him with your mouth until you gagged because of his sheer length and girth.

You squealed when Loki lifted you up to position himself between your legs, smirking hungrily when you spread them even further in his tight grasp. Clearly, there was no need for him to prepare you any more. With but one eager thrust, he impaled you with his hard cock, sheathing himself so deep inside of you your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your muscles gripping him tightly, unwilling to let him retreat entirely. Loki withdrew almost completely still, torturing you with slow and deep strokes. He took his time, appreciating the warmth of a tight cunt squeezing him so delightfully, greedy for his seed. And he was about to give it to you, about to give you what you had asked for.

Loki’s angle allowed him to hit your hidden pleasure spots with every single stroke, carrying you up towards orgasm on a cloud of pleasure. Moaning relentlessly, you dug your fingernails into his armour, allowing him to bury his face in your neck and inhale your scent, leaving passionate love bites in his wake.

By now, he was rutting into you like a wolf in heat. Loki seemed to forget himself. Tension, desperation, fear and frustration all appeared to seep from his body so suddenly he realised with a start what he had been missing out on. To have a woman desire him, willing to give and receive pleasure…

“L-Loki… I-I’m… I’m going to… ahh…”

“Come for me,” he ordered, looking you dead in the eye, urging you on, fuelling your arousal. “Come. Now.”

It felt like he had pressed a button, his naughty words rippling through you along with the endless waves of pleasure caused by the strongest orgasm you had ever experienced. Screaming his name, your toes curled as Loki fucked you through your climax almost violently, unwilling to stop and let you catch your breath. By the time he was about to reach his own peak, you were ready to cum yet again. And Loki’s shaft pulsing and twitching inside of you as he spurted ropes of his rich cum inside of you, filling you up nicely, was enough to push you over the edge once more. Spasming around him, you milked him for all he was worth, the pleasure unwilling to subside until he slipped out of you satisfactorily, watching with delight and pride how his seed dribbled down your inner thighs, staining your body. He sure did enjoy claiming a woman…

Carefully, the God of Mischief set you back down on your feet, making sure your knees would indeed support you before he let go.

“God… that was… wow.” It was better than you could have ever imagined. You were filled with energy you could not describe. Myths of Loki and his seidr had already given you strength but Loki himself… you felt like a new witch.

“Indeed it was.” He chuckled, tucking away his softening member. He did not look flustered in the least. You, on the other hand, were panting as if you had just run a marathon. Closing your eyes for just a brief second, you magicked some clothes back on your body, feeling Loki’s blue eyes on you with every movement you made. You shivered when his hand came up to caress our face yet again. There was hope sparkling in his eyes.

“Have you ever seen the Northern lights? With your own eyes?” He suddenly asked.

You frowned. “What?”

“I realise that we started this in the wrong order and I shall make sure to remedy that mistake and court you properly, my little witch.” My little witch. You were his little witch now.

“Um… Loki… we are not… going to… are we?” Your heart was aching. This had been about sex and lust… not the beginning of a romantic relationship. Was it not clear? You swallowed thickly, looking up at him hesitantly.

He paused, lifting his chin to feign confidence.

“Ah. I see.” He said eventually. “You merely wished for carnal satisfaction and you received it.”

You had hurt him. When you had thought you had done him a favour by dragging him straight into Stark’s stupid scavenger hunt, you had achieved the exact opposite. And it finally dawned on you. Loki wasn’t craving sexual touch. He was craving emotional touch.

“Loki, I just… I’m not the kind of woman who… I mean, I don’t…” But why, now, did it hurt you so much to have disappointed him? Those feelings tumbling around in your belly, what in the nine realms, were they on about? It was a fuck. A meaningless fuck you would not mind to repeat… or was it? Biting your lower lip, you remembered Loki’s cheeky smirk. Your heart seemed to skip a beat upon the mere imagination of him being playful with you.

“It had to be me, no? The Norse God of Mischief, the one you had read so much about. Tell me, was it exciting?” He asked, scornfully and condescending now.

“It… the best sex of my life.” You admitted ruefully.

“Well. I am pleased to have bestowed this life-changing experience on you. You will be disappointed to hear you were a rather ordinary and nearly boring companion.”

He stroke back immediately, choosing hurtful words to distract from his own pain and inflict the very same on you. It did not matter if they were true or not, you both knew they hit home.

“Loki, I’m sorry… I… I didn’t mean it like that, I just…”

“(Y/N)!” You flinched when you heard Tony yell your name. Jogging towards you, in no rush, really, he came to a halt a few feet before your trembling form.

“There you are. Rhodey won, the scavenger hunt is over. We’re all going to the Bahamas though. You better start packing.”

“Come with me.” You heard yourself mumbling when he had gone but not before shooting Loki a suspicious glance. “I’m not going without you.”

“Whatever for? You have what you wanted.”

Those feelings. Could it be? Were you… falling in love with him?

“No,” Frantically, you shook your head. “No, I don’t. Please, Loki. I’m sorry…”

“There is no need to apologise, my little witch.” My little witch. Oh no… you definitely did not want to let this breath-taking god go. He did not have to explain it. There was no need to apologise because this was what people always did. They used him and then tossed him aside when they had no need of him longer. They claimed they loved him and then revealed their true intentions. By the Norns, what had you done? You had never wanted to hurt him like this.

“I think… I should be the one courting you. Please… let me prove it to you.” You choked out, holding back your tears. You were falling in love with him. If he turned his back on you now and left, never looking back, your heart would shatter. Broken, you tried for a reconciling smile. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest when Loki sighed.

“You should go and pack your things, my little witch.” My little witch. Your smile widened, genuinely.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I’d be flattered if you supported me on KoFi! kofi.com/sserpente (or hit the “Support me” button on my blog) ♥

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this-darkness-light · 6 years

Text

Kissed By An Angel

Pairing: Sam/Castiel, background Dean/Lucifer Rating: Gen Tone: humor, fluff Summary: Sam has a good time explaining an obscure holiday tradition to Castiel. Word count: 1510 (I’m apparently incapable of writing anything under 1,000 words idk) Prompt: I saw Person A kissing Person B under the mistletoe Tags: humor, fluff, adorbsness ahoy, holidays, Christmas, kissing under the mistletoe, Dean ships it, Lucifer ships it

Written for day 5 of @webcricket’s 2017 Supernatural Advent Calendar Challenge.

Tagging: @brieflymaximumprincess

Read on AO3! -.-.-.-.-

Castiel stares up at the leafy green plant hanging from the top of the door jamb, head tilted to the side and eyebrows squished together. “I do not understand what a parasitical plant has to do with kissing.” In his hand he rolls the small, pearly white berry he gathered from the plant between his fingers, careful not to squish it.

Sam clamps his lips together and swallows the laugh bubbling up in his chest. Making fun of the angel won’t help him understand obscure human holiday traditions any better than he already doesn’t, though the light-hearted teasing would probably sail right over his head and leave him none the wiser.

“It’s just something humans do,” Sam says, tugging on the lapels of Castiel’s trench coat to pull him closer. “Stand under the mistletoe, pull off a berry each time you kiss, and when there’s no more berries, you’re done.” To prove his point, he leans down and gently brushes a kiss against the angel’s chapped pink lips. Castiel hums approvingly, and a warmth that has nothing to do with the heat from the stove where Dean is cooking dinner bursts into his chest.

When they pull apart, Castiel holds the berry out to Sam like a solemn priest bestowing a ritual artifact upon a worshipper. Oooh. That thought gives Sam an idea for roleplay later. “Here is your berry,” Castiel says in that gravelly deep voice of his, “though I don’t think this exchange is very fair to you.”

Smiling, Sam plucks the small white berry from the angel’s palm and tucks it in the left breast pocket of his flannel over shirt. “Why’s that?”

“You gave me a delightful kiss, and I gave you the fruit of a plant that sucks the life and vitality from its host.”

Pressing a hand to his mouth, Sam bites down hard on his lip to hide the grin threatening to bloom across his face. “You sure have a way with words, Cas,” he says in a wheezy voice full of choked back laughter. He kind of wishes he was recording this, because the angel’s earnest inability to understand that it’s just a dumb tradition is too funny.

If he notices that Sam’s on the brink of cackling like a wicked witch, Castiel doesn’t show it. He dips his head and thanks Sam for the compliment. “Now I believe it’s your turn, Sam,” he says, as serious as if he’s reciting wedding vows. And that’s not really a thought Sam needs right now, because it’s a nice thought and he likes it too much, and it seems like everything that he likes ends up crumbling to dust in his hands. Or dying. Besides, this is just supposed to be something silly and fun. And they don’t even know what “they” are, yet.

But what if…? It couldn’t hurt to play a little, right? (Rehearse, a voice at the back of his mind coughs, but he shoves that thought back where it came from.) Straightening to his full height, he schools his features as best he can and gazes down into Castiel’s deep blue eyes. In his little fantasy, Castiel is in a white tux with a black tie, and Sam himself is in a complimenting black tux with a white tie. “Ready when you are,” he murmurs, heart scudding in his chest at the idea of making his daydream real.

He remembers too late that, powered down though he may be, Castiel can still read his mind, especially when his emotions are cranked up to eleven like they are now. Castiel’s eyes widen and his lips part slightly, and Sam knows the angel has caught on to Sam’s pipe dream. A hot flush creeps up the back of his neck and he stares down at his boots. Way to go, Sam. You killed that nice, happy moment like a boss, he mentally grouses at himself.

Cool, slender fingers slide under his chin and tilt it up until he’s staring down into Castiel’s eyes, soft and shining with millennia upon millennia of wisdom and…something else that makes Sam’s breath catch in his throat. “I’m ready,” Castiel says in a rough whisper that sends a shiver down Sam’s spine.

This kiss is different than the one Sam gave Castiel only moments ago. Hell, it’s different than any kiss they’ve shared before. It’s slow and warm and simple, yet so much more than just the pleasure of sensitive skin on skin. Sam has no words to describe it. Sighing, he cups Castiel’s face in his hands and lets himself get lost in the moment, the feeling of warm skin beneath his palms, of Castiel’s body flush to his own, his arms tight around Sam’s waist and shoulders. A scent like night and earth and honeysuckle wafts around them, and it’s the axis on which Sam’s whole world spins.

Rap-rap-rap. “When you two lovebirds are done eating each other’s faces, dinner’s on the table,” Dean says, voice oozing smugness like a parent who just caught two kids acting naughty.

Sam starts. He’d been so caught up in Castiel, he hadn’t even heard Dean approach. Castiel, of course, is the epitome of poise. Completely ignoring Dean, he pulls away from Sam, lips plump and damp, and skims the back of his hand down Sam’s face. “That was wonderful,” he murmurs, the corners of his mouth tugging up at the edges in the closest thing to a genuine smile Sam's ever seen on his stern face.

Sam feels gratified to see a faint blush pinking the angel’s cheeks, because he can feel an identical one warming his own. “Yeah. Yeah it was,” he says, tracing the prominent ridges of the angels’ cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs.

Dean loudly clears his throat. “FYI, me an’ Luce ain’t waiting for you two,” he announces, then heads back to the kitchen and starts good-naturedly razzing Lucifer about piling microwaved veggie patties and actual vegetables onto his hamburger bun instead of the cheese stuffed burgers Dean apparently “slaved” over all afternoon.

Shaking his head at his brother’s antics, Sam squeezes Castiel’s shoulders and then forces himself to pull apart from the angel. Immediately he mourns the loss of warmth and sense of connection. “I guess we better get in there if we want anything to eat. You know how those two get.”

Castiel nods. “Our brothers would put a pack of starving hyenas to shame.”

Sam really does laugh this time, because the mental image of Dean and Lucifer crouched over a fresh kill (or, in Lucifer’s case, a pile of fresh fruit and veggies), growling and snarling at anyone who tries to butt in, is just too funny. “C’mon,” he says, grinning as he turns toward the kitchen and the sound of playfully rude banter and the smell of Dean’s famous burgers.

Before he can get two steps, a hand falls on his shoulder. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Sam?” Castiel asks, looking pointedly up at the mistletoe.

Sam mentally smacks himself in the forehead. The berry. “Oh. Right.” Reaching up, he pulls a berry off the plant and hands it to Castiel with a lopsided smile. “Here you go. Payment for, like, the best kiss I think I’ve ever had.”

Unless Sam is imagining things, and he’s pretty sure he’s not, the blush coloring Castiel’s face deepens. “I will treasure it,” the angel says as he takes the berry from Sam and slips it in one of the pockets of his trench coat.

Sam has no doubt he will.

BONUS SCENE

Dean cackles and takes a swig of his beer as Lucifer pauses the video while Sam and Castiel are mid-kiss. “It’s like watching a friggin’ chick flick, man.”

Lucifer snickers along with him and playfully nudges Dean’s shoulder with his own. “Aren’t they adorable,” he croons, zooming in on their brothers’’ love-struck faces. “I think we just watched them get married.”

Dean shudders and takes a huge gulp. “Dude, don’t say that,” he moans. “I’m not ready to walk my baby brother down the aisle.”

Grinning, Lucifer hits ‘play’ and the video starts up again. The soft little moans their little brothers were making while locking lips would make a porn star proud. He doubts they even knew their desire for each other was so…audible.

Tilting his head back, Dean finishes off his beer and settles the empty bottle on the end table next to the sofa with a muted rattle of glass on wood. “Good enough for blackmail?” he asks, stretching his arms overhead and rolling his neck from side to side to loosen some of the kinks he got slaving all day in the kitchen.

Lucifer can practically feel those proverbial horns sprouting from his head. “Oh Hell yeah.”

Despite the dastardly duo’s intentions, the video ends up being used less as blackmail and more to embarrass the newly married couple at their wedding a year later. Sam berates Dean for projecting it on a screen during cake, but he looks so much like a tomato in a tux that all Dean and Lucifer do is laugh and give each other high fives.

The joke’s on them when Sam and Castiel return the prank on their wedding day only a few months later.

#supernatural #spn #sastiel #sam/cas #this-darkness-writes #holiday fluff #christmas fic

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