#nonny and i came up with these a month ago
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flownintothesun · 1 year ago
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 —
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  ✰ ⋆ ─── 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐬.
francis is dressing up as his first love this year. of course he means the bard himself — none other than william shakespeare, complete with mannerisms.
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✰ ⋆ ─── 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐲.
westley would be a pirate, of course — as though there was ever any other option. most fearsome pirate in all the seas — the great, legendary captain mccarthy. he says he'd also make a dashing zorro.
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✰ ⋆ ─── 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧.
marin would be a glittery and shimmering siren with a very realistic tail. i think she'd go all out with it, too. her song could steal a sailor's soul.
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✰ ⋆ ─── 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞.
would go very classic in a marie antoinette take with the full costume, sparing no expense.
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✰ ⋆ ─── 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨.
nonny's muses would have to wrangle him into partaking. but he'd probably be the big bad wolf for reasons.
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✰ ⋆ ─── 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐥𝐫𝐚𝐬.
"i do not support the rampant consumerism and blatant appropriation of a culture’s spiritual beliefs."
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youvebeenlivingfictional · 6 months ago
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So in The Pro Art says something like “letting you go back to your husband every day isn’t going to be easy is it” - in your mind would he eventually try and convince the reader to leave her marriage for him or would he just kinda accept that she’s not his and keep it as a relationship of infidelity?
the pro
Notes: Got a long-winded answer for you, nonnie.
Warnings: Infidelity; married Reader; coach Art Donaldson
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"You could leave him, you know."
It's murmured against your hip. You don't look at him for a few moments; you don't move, and for a few beats, you don't even breathe. It's not the first time he's said it to you, but it catches you off-guard every time.
The first time, he said it right in front of your husband.
The fact that Art had become a near-permanent fixture on your husband's party lists was a blessing and a curse. It was always tantalizing to have him around, but it was also torture. You didn't allow yourself to be drawn away or followed as Art had that first night together. The two of you had agreed after the fact that it had been a reckless act, and that there was too high a risk of getting caught when the house was full of people.
It didn't stop you from fooling around at the house after lessons. It was still reckless, but you'd won the favor and trust of the house staff. They steered clear when Art came to see you, and turned a blind eye if they happened to see him going up or down the stairs.
You came to know every inch of Art's body as well as you knew your own—every scar, freckle, slope—all of it. You learned the taste of salt by lapping a bead of sweat off of the swell of his Adam's apple. You memorized the way a blush spread across his cheeks when you took his cock into your mouth, and the flutter of his lashes as he struggled to against his pleasure to watch—because he liked to watch. You held the memories of his touch, his kiss, his embrace when you went on business trips with your husband, and savored the scant phone calls that you managed to take and make with Art when you were away.
It was enough to get by, and enough to sate you through those parties when he was so painfully close—especially when you were subject to Art palling around with your husband. It was worse still when you'd become the butt of your husband's jokes, though these days, it was about how focused you were on your tennis.
You could see the tightness in Art's expression, the growing cracks in his patience as you forced a smile through tease after tease. But Art had widened his own smile and barbed his words:
"Careful. She could leave you any time she wanted."
You were stunned, and you knew that you weren't covering it well. But your husband hadn't taken it seriously in the slightest. His laughter had covered your shock as he clarified:
"For tennis?"
Art's eyes held your steadily as he lifted his glass to his lips.
"Sure," He agreed after a sip. "For tennis."
--
The next time Art mentioned it, you chalked it up to the heat of the moment.
Art wasn't always mouthy during sex, but sometimes, he seemed unable to stop himself. You had been away from one another for nearly three weeks—no practice or meetings, nothing but a handful of phone calls and a string of texts a mile long.
When you'd returned from your trip, you'd had to wait another week before you'd been able to sneak away and go to his place. You'd hardly been a step inside the door before he was on you. You didn't make it past the front hall before he'd had your tennis skirt shoved up, your panties pulled aside as he drove into you. His body was flush against yours, his hands grasping your hips in a way that you feared would bruise.
"Never letting you out of my sight again," He groaned, "I want you to leave him."
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding on for dear life as one of his harder thrusts made the table beneath you rattle, sending a stack of mail sliding to the floor.
But that had been months ago, and he hadn't brought it up since.
As you finally draw in a deep breath now, you force yourself to focus on his ceiling, your fingers tenderly combing over his scalp. You feel him shift against you, his chin resting on your belly.
"...D'you hear me?" He finally presses, and you sigh, knowing that you can't hold off any longer.
"It's not that easy."
"Sure it is."
"No, it isn't."
"You're making it difficult."
"Art."
"You could pack up your shit and walk out tomorrow."
"In theory, sure."
"And in practice. What the hell's stopping you?" Art pushes himself to get a better look at you.
"Besides the fact that I'd be broke?"
"I'll take care of you."
"...You already took care of me," You tease, letting your eyes lower between his legs, a teasing smile on your lips. But when you meet Art's gaze again, your find his expression hardened with annoyance.
"I mean it."
You roll your eyes, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and pushing yourself up.
"I don't have time for this."
"For what? A question?"
"It's not a real question, Art. You're being facetious," You insist, snatching your bra and underwear from where they've been tossed.
"I've never been more serious in my life—Hey, hang on a second," He pleads, taking hold of your arm. You go still, fingers flexing in the fabric of your clothing. Why does he have to do this now? The two of you are meant to be cuddling in your afterglow, not bickering like this.
"I am tired of sneaking around," Art presses closer, the heat of his body beginning to break down the icy wall that you're desperately trying to build up around yourself. "I hate seeing you fake smiles at those stupid parties, and I am sick of not waking up with you."
You squeeze your eyes shut as you force your upset down.
"Art."
"I'm tired of pretending that I don't think about you all the time—"
"Art, don't—"
"And I am tired of pretending that I don't love you."
It takes all of your strength to stay standing. You just manage to shake him off, lowering yourself to sit on the edge of the bed again as you try to keep your cool.
"Why would you say something like that?" You breathe. You feel Art's hands smooth over your knees and thighs as he kneels in front of you.
"Because I can't lie to myself anymore," He murmurs. "And I don't want to lie to you about it, either."
"Sometimes a lie can be a good thing." You scrub your hand across your face, trying to settle yourself. When you lower it, you find Art looking crestfallen. You shake your head, cupping his cheeks.
"I don't mean that," You insist. "I'm sorry."
"Tell me you don't feel it, too."
Sometimes a lie can be a good thing. But you know that if you manage it, you'll break this beautiful boy.
"You know that I do."
You watch Art's shoulders relax before he surges up for a kiss. You whine softly as he eases you back onto the bed, rolling his hips. You shiver as you feel his cock twitching and hardening against your thigh.
"You'll leave him?" He mumbles against your lips.
"Yes."
"Soon?"
"Yes."
"Promise me."
"I swear, Art."
"I love you."
You tip your head back, cupping his face and sweeping your thumbs across the swell of his cheekbones.
"I love you, too."
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dickgraysonsbitch · 6 months ago
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Hi! Just found your blog and it’s the best thing ever honestly. I was wondering if you could do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader deals with migraines and sensory overloads? If not that’s totally cool, have a nice day!
thank you so much for your ask!! this was actually my first request ever 😭 nonny you will go down in history 💖 a psa that while i do have mild sensory issues, i don’t have migraines, so any and all criticism is welcome!
warnings: pills/migraines | 1.2k words | dividers by @cafekitsune | requests open !
You fell onto the bed, tucking your knees in close to your chest. Fifty minutes. This goddamned headache had been the bane of your whole existence for fifty minutes, and you couldn’t even catch a bloody break. Every week, it would come back like clockwork, and while you had your routine (two advils, an eye mask, and soothing ocean noises all while sitting in a dark room with a singular, mildly-scented lavender candle with two out of three wicks lit) it didn’t change the fact that every minute that you lay there, the throbbing sensation around your head came back worse than before.
Grasping the tip of your nose, you tilted your head back in order to swallow the pills next to you. If you didn’t, you’d eventually gag on the water, and that wasn’t really a pretty sight to see. It was a miracle that you could even work as a hostess, especially on the graveyard shift, because it was taking every ounce of your willpower not to throw up at even the most tamest memories—a sleepy child with food flying out of their mouth, or a costumer shouting about how ‘insane’ you were when you had only gotten through your second advil of the day. It wasn’t enough, clearly, because if it had been, you wouldn’t be holed up in your dark room like a vampire with chronic pain.
One knock on your window jolts you from your ibuprofen-fueled haze. Two knocks. Three knocks—god, who doesn’t have patience in this stupid city? Not everyone can be a metahuman that travels at the speed of sound.
You open your window, head still pulsing, but all thoughts of another cup of mildly sweetened honey tea dissipates when the Red Hood smoothly slides into your living room/kitchen (it’s Gotham! Rent may be low, but you are poor as hell), removes his helmet, and shakes his head like a wet dog, the domino mask he was wearing underneath somehow not falling off. He shoots you a crooked grin before plopping himself on your couch, resting his legs on your coffee table.
“Shoes off,” you grumble. “And for the millionth time, I have a door for a reason. And I put food on that table, and I don’t want to see your nasty feet on it.” While other people might be a bit more reserved when talking to a Bowery drug lord, you had never given yourself the same boundaries. He’d crashed into your apartment when he was injured one night a few months ago, and since then, the Red Hood swore to one, pay off your window, and two, make sure you were safe. In his words, it was the best way to repay you for saving his life—even though you didn’t really do anything of the sort. Basic stitches that you learnt in high school, because that was what they taught when a vigilante could collapse in your house due to blood loss any minute in Gotham.
“Woah…” he raises his hands up in mock surrender, his eyes glinting with mirth. “What’s wrong? Rough shift?”
He can always tell, and you’ve decided to refrain against trying to lie to the only crime lord that you’ll likely ever be friend with, unless the Penguin unexpectedly decides to lumber up your fire escape. (Hood’s gotten you a spiked baseball bat for occasions like that, because you complained about any firearms). A pang of pain from you head. Mental note, put out the candle, no wicks. Darken the room even more, try and fail to go to sleep. You have your second job in the morning tomorrow. Mental note, take a melatonin if you can’t sleep, pack a few pills of ibuprofen and acetaminophen if you can’t get through your morning shift. It’s two AM right now, you could still get three hours of sleep if you—
A rough, calloused hand gently caresses your cheek, sending a tingling sensation down your jawline, all the way down to the base of your spine. Okay, woah. “Take a deep breath, baby.” Hood’s deep, gravelly voice shakes your from your stupor. Oh. You were slipping back into your anxiety induced panic attacks, and you hadn’t even noticed. You take one deep breath, but instead of feeling like you’re stuffing an oversized pillow into a kid sized cover, you’re at ease, letting fresh air flow into your lungs.
“How you doin’ tonight, huh baby? I saw your kitchen light on, thought I’d stop by.” Red Hood rubs a simple circle pattern into your back, letting you lean onto him.
“I bet…” you take a shallow breath. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
A smile cracks through onto his face. “Nah, baby, just you. All the girls have nothing on you, baby. You want to tell me about your day?”
Maybe it was just his voice, but you were almost immediately more at ease than you wee moments ago. Red Hood would’ve had a great calling as a therapist, or even a guidance counselor, but you weren’t sure that he’d like it if you called him, arguably the most fearsome man in Gotham, a service worker. Men were weird that way.
“C-can you talk to me, Hood? I don’t know… you have a nice voice, I guess. Makes me feel safe.”
You could swear that you heard his voice crack before he cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that. So… I guess I didn’t do much today. Oh! This one sleaze-bag was trying to rob this eighth grader, and I’d never seen this old guy, okay? The kid, his name’s James, he immediately just swings his backpack at him. And I come in, this dude’s already gotten a broken nose…”
He keeps talking about the unexpected things that happened during his day, but your eyes are just trained on Hood. His sharp jaw, his toned arms, his hair and the decent-sized white streak that runs through it, his soft lips and the J scar that covered his left cheekbone, and you wondered what it would be like to know him without the mask on. Would he still be the same, sweet guy that you knew?
In a sudden moment of courage, you take Hood’s hand and squeeze it, your heart pounding nervously against your ribcage. “Thank you, Hood.” You whisper. “I don’t know… I don’t know what I would be done if you weren’t here. I’d probably be still having a killer headache right now.”
He smiles, something that you’ve been seeing him do a lot more often than he’s known for. Red Hood, vigilante, drug lord, crime boss? Nowhere to be seen. You try your hardest to gaze past the white lenses over his eyes, concealing his eye color.
“Jay,” he mutters softly, soft enough that if you hadn’t been sitting so close, you wouldn’t have been able to hear a word that he said. “Call me Jay.”
The head comes come back sometimes, but you usually tend to ignore the headaches after a dose of acetaminophen and a head massage from who might be the world’s best vigilante, Jay. You may not know his full name yet, but you know his heart, and under all that armor, under the Red Hood, is a man with a heart of gold.
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please please please let me know if i got anything wrong so i can edit it!
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tan1shere · 12 days ago
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hi bb 🥹
could you do like a deep comfort with Billie? where reader is feeling really anxious and we’re just sitting in the bed and she just helps talk out our troubles and thoughts and just holds us and is physically intimate with us (fluffy) to help us calm down <3
New Chapter
Billie Eilish x female reader !
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A/n: I saw this tiktok and ugh I just needed to write something like it. Hope you enjoy nonnie ! (Ok so embarrassing update. Sad update LMAO but I forgot Ms billie can't get us pregnant -i just didn't think the idea through- so I'm making it a bit creative and I'm praying you enjoy, just try not to think of it as legitimate and focus on the comfort okur :D) - also sorry if it's short 😔 - also kinda went way off your request :( I hope you like this tho nonnie
Summary: you're always an anxious mess, so once you find out this news you have a complete breakdown.
Warnings: angstyish, comfort, suggestive mentions ??? Anxiety attack, I think that's it !
Masterlist
Uh oh. Was all you thought this morning when you felt ill. You had so much work to get done you did not need to get a cold or the flu ontop of that. Then it hit you on what it could be. Surely not though.
Rewind to a few weeks ago. You and Billie had just had a date night and you wanted to try something new, per her suggestion. Slightly drunk you both decide to use the ejaculating dildo. But last time which wasn't that long ago, you were trying for a baby. You had been finding anonymous donors for a while and she finally found one. You ended up forgetting about it, so you thought nothing could happen because I mean, it was old. Surely nothing could attach to anything right?
Wrong. This feeling was getting worse as the morning went on. Billie was over at Finneas' working on some music related things. So she wasn't there. You had bought pregnancy tests like a month ago when you and Billie came up with the random idea. You were ready then, kind of. Now? Fuck no. Your job had been getting worse and you were honestly thinking of quitting. But you couldn't do that. Even if Billie insisted that it'd be ok, she could pay for the both of you she says. But you said she shouldn't ever have to do that.
Working was your everything even if this job was the putz, you've always loved working. You procrastinate looking at this stupid test. The whole baby thing was merely a thought you guys weren't 100% on it. Atleast you weren't. A human growing inside you, that's so much to think about. Children are a huge responsibility. Your head soon feels light, trying to calm your nerves. "Don't be stupid, this is just nothing. Turn it over." You try and convince yourself. Your hand trembles as you do, fully expecting 'not pregnant'
Wrong again. Your eyes widen tremendously. "Fuck, no no-" You accidentally drop it starting to freak out. Your chest feeling extra heavy. And just in time to freak out more, the front door opens. "Hey baby! I'm back." Baby.. Baby. Ones growing inside you. Your mind races. Shit, fuck. Your freakout continues. Your breathing becoming labored. Trying to calm down as your heart rate picks up. Pointless. "Y/n?" You try desperately to think of something, how on earth do you even explain this to her. 'Oh hey, yeah I'm pregnant.' Not to mention how scared you were.
You didn't want this not now, and you honestly weren't sure if you ever would. That's probably just the anxiety talking, but all you could think about was how scary this all was. Scared wasn't even the right word for how you were feeling. And the pain in your heart was telling you that. She comes into the bathroom looking at you with worry. "What's going on-?" Then she saw your teary eyes, panic flooding her. "Hey, hey. What's up?" She grabs your face gently. "Talk to me, please." But she stops herself realizing you were about to have a panic attack.
"Ok, look at me, I'm right here." Her hands grab yours going to put it on her heart like she always does, but you retract them. Shoving them in your hair. "I cant do this." You say breathing heavy. Still stuck on what you had just read on that stupid stick. It's all you could think about right now. "Do what babe?" That worried her more. What on earth were you talking about. "This can't be real- I have to be dreaming." You then say clutching your beating heart, shaking your head in disbelief. She grabs your face again, never harsh. "What. Is going on." Her thumb swipes your tear stained cheeks.
In attempt to calm you, and it worked for a moment. How do you even tell her. "I-.." You began but tear up again. You couldn't find the words at first, buy you try so hard. "I'm pregnant." You decide to just blur out, ripping of the bandaid, the stuck. Sticky. Bandaid. She gives you a confused look. "Babe-" She doesn't believe you, you wish you didn't believe you. "You do realize-" But you turn around before she could finish, grabbing the test and putting it in her hands. She widens her eyes, seeing it. Even more confused than she was before. Then her brain clicks. "The dildo.." you hear her mumble.
You're pacing, but she grabs you. "Hey, it's ok. I promise this will be all o-" "No. I can't do this, I don't think I ever could. This is so scary and." You stop feeling your chest heave. "Baby." She then says. "Yeah, ones growing in me. A human, I can't do that." She grabs you again, spotting how another attack was coming on, her hands grabbing yours and instinctively putting them on her heart. One of your coping mechanisms. "Look at me, we can do this I promise." You sob. "It was old how'd it even-" She brings you into her. Wrapping her arms around you. "I don't know my love... I don't know." But that's all you needed to stay calm, her warmth was incredibly comforting. Her voice calming every nerve inside you.
Just like it always did. You wrap your arms tightly around her. Burying your head into her chest. Lettung the initial shock die down. Heart going back to normal after awhile. Her hand gently caresses your hair, kissing the crown of it. "I'm here, which will be the main thing and we will get through this together no matter what." Her soothing touches and voice was all you needed. That's what helped in the end. You kinda wished you had done it when she was home, knowing that if she had been, you could've potentially avoided a anxiety attack. Still holding you close as you did so, letting you know that all of this would be ok. "What if I suck, what if it hurts-"
But she stops you, really not wanting you to think about this right now. "Hey, don't worry about that right now ok?" She pulls you back getting you to look at her. "I know you're scared. Fuck, I am too. But we got this." Her finger moves a loose strand out of your face, holding it once again. "You're good with kids, so good with kids. I'm just worried that I won't be good with it." Her head shakes. "You'll be amazing. You've got so much love in you, I know once it's here you'll be the best. Mother. Mark my words." You smile at her brightly. Everything she was saying soothing every worry. You were so glad to have someone like that in your life.
"I love you." She then says, making you cry out of happiness this time.
"I love you more. I'm so glad out of anyone in this world, you're the one I'm doing it with."
"And that's never changing."
Lil note, since I felt like I didn't get your request like you wanted and it's kinda bugging me (a lil mad at myself) I'll do a little blurb of a small idea that I got !
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kingkaizen · 5 months ago
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∘ a/n: let's pretend that i didn't take a month to fulfill this request, sorry nonnie <3
∘ ft: gojo & geto
∘ includes: cunnilingus, face fucking, riding, gojo & geto being idiots
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“Can you both shut up and eat me out already?”
The situation that you’re currently finding yourself in is not an easy one to explain. Just only 24 hours ago, you were still in a committed, yet toxic relationship. You have been with your ex for about two years before you caught him cheating and ended it all in an instant. Your best friends, Gojo and Geto immediately came to your aid, as they always do. You’ve been friends since your school days and your bond with the duo has only grown stronger as the years went by. They always resented your ex, how he treated you and how he made you feel.
Now it’s their turn to make you feel just as you deserve.
“Sorry, (y/n), Gojo is just a fucking idiot who doesn’t know how to share.” Geto rolled his eyes at Gojo as they were both resting between your open legs. At this point, you were completely naked in front of them, warm cunt aching in need as they took forever to get to the point. One thing about them, they will never stop arguing. Before Gojo could reply, Geto dives straight in, licking up your slit as your juices coat his tongue. You threw your head back in bliss as you felt him circle around your clit, a gasp leaving your lips as Gojo slipped two fingers inside.
“Look at how easily you take them.” Gojo groans, fascinated at the sight in front of him. Geto’s eyes bore into your skin as he gazed at your body. 
“Keep your eyes on us, love.” Geto cooed, removing his lips from yours, waiting for you to obey. Your head came back up slowly, looking down at the sight beneath you. Geto’s face was soaked in your juices just as much as Gojo’s fingers were. Just before you could whine from the loss of contact, Gojo places his hand at the back of Geto’s head, pulling him in for a kiss. You couldn’t help but feel turned on, watching the two men share a taste of you. 
“You’re taste so fucking good.” Gojo says as he pulls away, standing up to hover over you. “We should fill her up, just the way she likes.” Geto follows, flipping you over so that you’re on top of him as his head faces the bottom end of the bed. 
“Go ahead and take what you want.”
You don’t need to be told twice, reaching down to guide his tip into your entrance. You gasp as he enters you slowly, stretching you out. You can feel him gripping your hips, trying his best not to lose it as your walls clench around him. “Fuckkkk” Geto groans as you begin to move your hips back and forth. 
“Don’t forget about me, sweet girl.” Gojo stands facing you, leaking tip begging to be touched. Guiding your head towards his cock, you wrap your lips around him, swirling your tongue around his length. You could feel him pulse inside of your mouth in pleasure, large hand resting at the back of your head to take him in deeper. It’s not long before he begins to lose himself, slowly thrusting in and out of your warm mouth as your lips stay tightly around him.
“I hope you’re not about to cum already, Gojo. You didn’t even get to feel how tight she is yet.” Geto slapped your ass, making you moan around Gojo’s cock. His eyes tighten up at the vibrations, thrusts becoming more erratic by the second. You could feel yourself beginning to lose it, Geto controlling the movement of your hips as he reaches deep inside of you. 
“Go ahead and cum sweetheart, cum for me and me only.” Geto’s possessive words send you over the edge, your body shaking above him as your eyes roll to the back of your head. Gojo’s not far behind, pulling out before shooting his cum all over your chest. Geto chuckled underneath you, pulling himself out to lay you down gently next to him. “I knew you would be quick, you seem like the type.”
“Shut the fuck up.” 
“Let’s switch and you can have a taste of my sloppy seconds.”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
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sc0tters · 10 months ago
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Wildest Dreams | Luke Hughes
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summary: as the biggest test comes for you and Luke you begin to realise that maybe he was only ever meant to be a dream.
request: yes/no
warnings: sexual themes, oral (fem receiving!), swearing.
word count: 3.5k
authors note: this is the piece that you guys actually picked for us to write about this week! to the nonnie that actually suggested this I hope I did the request justice and I absolutely loved writing this, like hands down favourite of the year. I tried to incorporate a bit of everything because the votes for how this one should go were so divided to! Whilst this is a part two fic you don’t have to read the first instalment before however it is advised for context!
pt 1
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Luke was your best kept secret.
The light shone through the half drawn curtains as it made you groan “where I am?” You grumbled as you blew by to pull your duvet over your face and instead pulled a blanket over you. You looked around finally noticing the pictures on the wall and the hockey gear scattered on the floor, you were in Luke’s room.
As you went to get out of bed the door opened “you’re awake.” Luke smiled seeing the sight of you in his sweater “how are you feeling?” He asked handing you an Advil and a bottle of water “did I kiss you last night?” You didn’t know if that was a dream or not and part of you was terrified to hear the truth.
Luke winced as he thought you had regretted it making him weary of sitting next to you “I know I shouldn’t have kissed you but I just realized that if I didn’t do it then I really never-” you cut him off as you hooked your fingers under his chin as you pecked his lips making him go quiet.
He brought his hand to your hair as he tugged as the hair on the nape of your neck “woah.” Luke mumbled as he stared at you “meant it if I said I liked you.” Again you were unsure of if you had said it to him “that makes two of us.” The hockey player nodded in agreement as he ran his hand over your thigh.
The boy did everything in his power to make sure he kept his cool “what do we do about Jack?” He asked suddenly feeling the image of his brother appear in his mind “we can tell him when it feels right.” You grabbed his hand as you sighed “and if he isn’t happy we can reevaluate then.” You cringed knowing that Jack had always been protective of you, this was never going to end well “hope to give you the world pretty girl.” He mumbled as he went to kiss your lips again, pushing the worries out of your mind.
That was over three months ago and you swore you never intended for it to stay like this for that long. But as Luke moved to New Jersey and you found yourself landing a job in LA it only felt right to keep things light hearted. Sure there was a silent agreement that you guys had met a level of exclusivity where you were no longer sleeping with other people. You tried to say that Luke didn’t have time for another girl with the addition to being an NHL player, hell he barely had time for you. Even as the texts came at the most random hours you still ever found yourself growing irritated because you truly did find yourself falling in love with Luke.
Now the biggest test for you two had come and it was at the lake house. Two whole weeks of you in nothing more than you in shorts and your bikini was bound to be torture for Luke. The fact that you couldn’t have Jack finding out about you guys either only made Luke’s desires for you increase tenfold.
To top it all off Luke had to listen Cole and Trevor talk about how you were as hot as you had ever been. That’s how the youngest Hughes boy ended up sat on your bed as you were in the shower leaving the rest of the boys on the boat “what happened to going with the boys?” You were surprised that he was home “wanted to see you.” The innocence of his words made your cheeks feel warm as you ran your towel over your wet hair.
Luke patted his shorts as he motioned to sit with him “couldn’t listen to him talk about you anymore.” His finger ran over the edge of the red satin robe that was pressed against your body “didn’t know you could get jealous.” You teased letting out a laugh as it made him press his finger harder into you.
His gaze sharpened as he scoffed “why would I need to care when you’re on my lap, not his?” Luke grumbled as he pinched at your hip “think it’s cute you care.” You rolled your eyes as you caught your lower lip in your teeth.
The boy smiled as he sighed “glad you think that.” Luke rolled his eyes as he brought his hand to your cheek. It was killing him how you established a stupid rule that meant he couldn’t touch you over the time at the lake house.
You figured that it would make things easier for you if you weren’t worrying about the inevitable hickies that Luke would leave on you “fuck you look so kissable right now.” Luke groaned as his throat went dry staring at your lips “Luke we can’t.” You warned going to get off of him as his grip on your thigh tightened.
Desire roamed his mind as the only thing that he wanted was you “the boys are out baby.” The boy complained as he pulled you onto his lap properly “they won’t know a thing.” He added pecking your lips.
But as you fought the sexual frustration that built in your body you couldn’t help but sigh “we shouldn’t.” You mumbled as you pulled away “baby please I can be quick!” His huff made you laugh “Hughesy thinks he could really get me off that fast?” You teased only going quiet as you were flipped over.
Luke hovered over you as he glared “I know you like the back of my fucking hand pretty girl.” That was the truth, over the last few months even if there was one you two actually spent together Luke knew the was to make you squirm. So much so that once he moved to the garden state he knew how to get you off by the mere sound of his voice. Whilst Jack was teasing Luke about the mystery girl that let moans roll off of his bedroom walls.
A gulp caught in your throat as his hand pulled at the ribbon on you robe letting the fabric hit your sides. Luke loved how your eyes grew full as you went silent “not so tough when you’re on the bottom now are you?” He smirked running his finger over your body “fuck Luke.” You whined as your skin grew warm in wake of his touch.
But you were never going to have it that easy “what about your rules?” There was this set of about four or five that you had in the hopes that it would make you keep your hands to yourself and the sexual frustrations to a minimal. You rolled your eyes “fuck my damn rules too.” You grumbled making him laugh.
Luke finally found himself getting what he wanted as he kissed you. No longer was it one of emotion but instead was full of lust as it sucked the oxygen out of the room “Luke.” You gasped feeling his lips move to your jaw and he continued peppering soft kisses on your body all the way until he got to your breasts “you don’t have all day.” You grumbled feeling his hands run over your stomach.
A laugh left his lips as his face hovered over yours “like seeing how needy you get f’me.” The boy mumbled as he shifted down your bed aiming to go to your now soaking cunt that had you squirming to press your thighs together “and so wet too.” He teased propping your legs up at an angle giving him space lay down “please.” You begged writhing in your sheets full of anticipation.
Luke pressed his tongue flat against your slit as it almost made you jump “fuck Luke.” You groaned quickly finding your hands in his hair as his arms locked around your thighs.
He loved having you like this as he looked up to see your eyes already screwed shut. His tongue lapped up against your cunt as though you were his last meal “s-so good.” You gasped tugging at his curls as his teeth grazed over your clit.
Your feet pressed against his back as you swore your were going to pass out as you looked to the heavens for help “so sweet.” Luke’s words sent vibrations through your body and with that it made your nipples harden as you brought one hand up to tease your sensitive peaks “please.” You begged as his movements were relentless making you contemplate who was enjoying this more.
A feeling of being on fire captured your body as you didn’t care about keeping your moans and whimpers quiet when the boy had you clenching around nothing “let go f’me pretty girl.” Luke nodded as he smirked knowing that his time away from you was enough to make you want him ten times more.
Sexual frustration was one way to put it and was probably what you would have tried to argue but instead as Luke’s skilful tongue had you forgetting what language you spoke there was no doubt about it just being him. You wanted to still prove your point by holding out on him but the moment he had his fingers pinching at your thighs you knew you were gone “fuck dear lord!” You cursed letting your body shake against the mattress as your chest heaved making him continue his movements until your cunt finally came and it was so hard it had your toes curling.
Just as your orgasm came down and your breathing began to go straight you brought Luke up to kiss you again “we’re home!” Cole called out as he slid open the glass door. It reminded you that your door was wide open as the youngest Hughes boy seemed to fail to shut it.
You were quick to push the boy off of you “baby!” Luke whisper yelled as he looked down at his now painful boner “go have a shower and I can stall them?” You proposed with a shrug as you began to grab things out of your suitcase to wear.
The boy crossed his arms as he sent you an unimpressed look “you’re like so not funny.” He grumbled as you pulled your shirt over your head walking back over to him as you smiled “promise I’ll make it up to you later big boy.” You winked as you had convinced him to join you as you went looking for your apartment in California.
Luke let out a sigh as he pecked your lips “you’re lucky you’re cute.” The hockey player clicked his tongue as he sighed heading out of your room just in time for Jack to come up the stairs “good shower?” The middle Hughes boy teased seeing your reddened cheeks “great shower.” You nodded watching him come into your room and sit on your bed as though that wasn’t where his brother just had you seeing stars.
The rest of the day was relatively quiet for you both and of course it couldn’t last too long. As the next day Trevor thought it was funny as he had caught Luke staring at you as you sunbathed that morning. So much so that every single chance he got he teased the younger Hughes boy at every chance that he got. But as the celebrations for the fourth of July finally began the teasing stopped as Luke found himself sat next to you “you’re just as pretty as the fireworks.” He confessed making you blush.
Luke smiled at your reaction “like seeing you smile pretty girl.” The hockey player placed his hand on your knee before you quickly swatted it away “you know my rules.” You pointed your finger at him accusingly as you tried to not smile.
Even his pout couldn’t make you break as Jack sent you a confused look wondering what made you both so quiet “Luke c’mere!” Trevor’s called out as a group of girls arrived “want you to meet Isabel.” He added instantly making you furrow your eyebrows.
It made Luke laugh as he placed his hand on your knee again “trust me no girl is gonna make me not want you.” He reminded you of where he stood as you brushed him off “trust me those girls wouldn’t be competition even if you weren’t mine.” It make a spark land in his belly hearing you say that he was yours.
Yet when you heard the sound of the girls voices get louder you both turned to see Luke walk over to them. Sure you trusted the boy but it was moments like this that you wished there was more between you both as everyone would have then known that he was yours.
The night was a little lonelier than you’d admit because even as Trevor ended up sat next to you, the sound of Isabelle’s voice as she flirted with Luke echoed in your ears. It left you wanting to reach up and hit the ducks player for trying to help the youngest Hughes boy out.
When you went out the morning after for groceries you should have known that it was dangerous letting Luke come with you. But after last night when Trevor spent the majority of his evening trying to get Luke a girl, you were feeling jealous and you missed his company and attention. So you brought Luke along figuring as the rest of the boys weren’t awake so what was truly the worst thing that could happen?
Luke smirked as he watched you struggle to get the bag of chips from the top shelf “need some help pretty girl?” He teased watching you push onto your tippy toes “I think I can get a bag of chips Lu-” you were cut off when he pressed himself against you reaching above to get what you wanted.
Your mouth went dry as you felt his bulge hit your lower back “Luke we are in public!” You whisper yelled turning to see his face drop to your neck “just want you to see what it is that you do to me.” The hockey player mumbled he peppered soft kisses on your open collar bone “god you are dangerous.” You groaned as you turned to face him with his shit eating grin.
If this was any other moment with any other guy you would have thought that it was cute that he was a little bit needy, but after the earlier events of the week it only made your hunger grow more for Luke. That was why you honestly let Luke win, the front of the cart had your hand wrapped around it s hard that your knuckles turned white. The music that echoed through the overhead speakers went quiet in your mind as you stood there watching in awe as the mere feeling of his lips on yours had you feeling like a moth to a flame, with your mind entirely captivated by him. As his scent invaded your nostrils you were so close to being entirely enthralled by him, but you were far enough that the sound of a basket hitting the cold floor had you pushing Luke away.
The color drained from your face as you locked eyes with him “wait.” You gasped seeing him freeze “you guys a thing now or something?” Jack blinked silently praying that this was just some bad dream that he could wake up from “sort of?” With your hesitancy on getting into it Luke proposed that you guys spoke about what you were after the summer, with or without his brother’s knowledge. Jack scoffed as he sent the taller boy a glare “out of all of the girls who fucking fell at your feet you just had to take her huh?” The forward felt sick knowing that Luke had a crush on you, but he thought he would act on it.
Tears fulled your eyes as you frowned “did you run out of girls your own age and just wanted the one thing you knew you couldn’t have?” The boys never had an agreement about it but as Quinn and Luke both had male best friends, Jack just figured that because you were his, you’d be off limits. Luke frowned as he shook his head “I really fucking like her dude so don’t talk about her like that.” Luke took a step forward as you stepped between the duo wanting to avoid a fight “you are such a pain in my ass!” As Jack went to take a step at his brother you stopped him by pressing your hand against his chest.
The boys glared at each other as you finally spoke up “I’m so sorry.” Your voice wavered as your lips quivered “and you just had to go spread your legs for him.” Jack spat not even letting himself look at you “don’t talk to her like that!” Luke was quick to go to your defense as he hated what it implied.
Jack shook his head as the sight of Luke wrapping his hand around your waist “you both make me sick.” His voice was barely a whisper as he sent you a look that truly made you feel like the worst person on the planet.
The middle Hughes boy turned to leave as he sighed leaving you two alone “Jack!” You sobbed as Luke held you in your spot “please!” Your throat was sore as tears rolled down your cheeks.
Luke also kept you from collapsing onto the ground “Luke please.” you begged trying to push past him as you continued to cry “I need to go to him.” You were finally strong enough to get away from Luke as you brought your hands up to wipe your eyes “just give him a second baby.” Luke reached out to grab your hand but you shook your head not wanting it “we aren’t like that anymore.” You announced practically breaking his heart in the process “you don’t mean that.” Luke now felt his tears kicking in.
But even as it was all so emotional, you still remained strong “I said I’d end it if he wasn’t happy.” You reminded him of how Jack was important to you “what about our happiness?” These past few months with Luke had been the best thing you had ever had. The highs were like a drug that you were constantly addicted to and now it was your oxygen.
You sighed as Luke looked at you, somehow with all that love still in his heart “Jack is my best friend.” You reminded Luke all that his brother meant to you “I love you!” Luke knew it wasn’t the right time to tell you that but he had felt that way since he watched you get out of the pool when you were fifteen. Sure your hair might have been in some messy braids but the sight of you in that red bikini was enough to make him feel things that no other girl has ever made him feel.
As a tear rolled down his cheek your thumb wiped it away “Luke you are young, you could-” as you tried to tell him that there would be plenty of other people for him Luke the boy that he could find someone else it was no use “I love you.” He repeated as he frowned “if you love me then you’ll let me go.” You pleaded as you kissed his lips one last time.
Still Luke couldn’t understand why you were doing this “why are you doing this?” Luke felt sick as his heart throbbed watching you step away from him again “because you can find any girl who will love you.” It was still no secret that Luke was gorgeous and as he was a new hotshot hockey player, the girls who wanted him only increased “but f’me there is only one Jack.” You didn’t mean that you only had one Jack Hughes, no you meant that there was only ever going to be one man in your life who could make you feel the way you did. He was the man who could make you laugh so hard you’d have milk coming from your eyes, he could have you telling him everything about you - so much so that he knew you better than you knew yourself -.
But beyond all that you had grown so close and comfortable with Jack that your life before him wasn’t something you could remember anymore. You needed Jack in your life to keep you sane and you couldn’t cope with the idea of losing him, even if it meant you could finally be happy “I’ll miss you.” You mumbled as you walked back leaving the isle as you went to chase after Jack.
The last few months might have formed a relationship that you could no longer call yours, but the memories you held could’ve been kept for a lifetime.
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suguru-getos · 12 days ago
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Hii I just wanna say I love your writing your one of the best fanfiction writers😭 would it be okay if I can request gojo x cursed!reader?
Aww thank you so much nonnie 🤭🥰 this just made my day :C I usually don’t take requests but I love the topic of Gojo x Cursed reader so much :3
Gojo Satoru x Cursed f!reader:
-> it was weird, how her entire being was suddenly corroded because of that one incident. She didn’t even know if such things exist, or if it’s just the PTSD from the incident. You see, a few months ago. Y/N had lost her best friend in a car accident. A car driven by her, and ever since… despite taking therapy, for several months. She hallucinates about her best friend. Where she is latched onto her, hugging her tightly. There is a tightness on her chest during the nights when she jolts awake, panting heavily. There are times she breaks down for nothing but this insurmountable grief. She wonders if that’s what her life has become. Endless grief.
-> until one day, when she returns from work, not batting an eye to this feeling anymore, learning to live with it, learning to accept it — that she sees him. The man looked ethereal almost, and it’s a pity she could lose her heart just like that. In a coffee shop that’s famous for selling the best mochis. “I’d like some matcha mochi.” He hums, and in that moment… she could feel a relief like no other. The curse of her best friend attached to her shoulders, not so eager to leave had now vanished. The relief that she could feel when she made eye contact with the man with those sky-blue eyes, hidden behind those black Prada sunglasses… the realisation is almost instant. “Thank you.” She mumbles, looking at him, smiling.
-> ah? Satoru is impressed, but in all honesty, the curse escaped immediately upon being in the presence of the strongest sorcerer in history. “Eia- I didn’t do anything.” He dismisses with a soft smile, hand waving in denial. “If you didn’t do anything then how do you know what I thanked you for?” She asked again, smiling back at him. That’s how she came to know Gojo Satoru, and that’s how Gojo Satoru came to know Y/N. Someone so fierce and yet so kind & beautiful.
-> “if you truly want to thank me, ask me for coffee.” Satoru grins, goodness — she’s gorgeous. No wonder her best friend didn’t want to leave her in a time of grief. Satoru thinks to himself when he sits in front of her in a secluded, cozy coffee corner… upon knowing the incident. She just didn’t want to leave her at a time when Y/N was this sad. No wonder, love is truly the greatest curse of them all. Satoru often wonders if spending his time like this instead of being a part of the constant schemes of the higher-ups would yield anything… then again; why should he always wonder if what’s something yielding… he just wants to live his life at times.
-> and so he decides to live his life for a change, to let his heart soar for a change. Exchanging numbers with her, texting her good mornings, good nights, inviting her to lavish dates that finally make sense of all the old-money bank account that the Gojo clan head has. It gives Satoru a new ambition when he realizes he’d trade anything for the smile she has, the way her eyes smile too, the way she chuckles… oh goodness. Whipped, Satoru Gojo is whipped.
-> to his surprise, she is the one that asks him out first. Even if Satoru has taken her on plenty outings, she is the one who asks him to be her boyfriend. The blush lingering on Satoru’s cheek is probably the cutest thing she’s seen. The first kiss felt like fireworks in Satoru’s gut, the way he could just ensure, kissing her passionately, caressing her cheeks, kneading her hips. Everything was electrifying.
-> boyfriend Satoru is so much different though, the way his attention is always on her. The way he desperately tries to free up his schedule just so he can spend time with her. The way he worships the ground she walks on, the way his eyes glow when her face contorts in pleasure whenever he’s toying with that beautiful body. Satoru doesn’t waste time to gift her a cursed energy embued tennis necklace. This would ward off the curses, and also keep her safe should his enemies feel a little wild.
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strangersteddierthings · 1 year ago
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ooo can i suggest prompt six? "Did you lie to me?" hehe
Thanks for sending a prompt, Nonny! It's my daily ficlet for today!
Daily Ficlet 6
Steve's never been a secret before. He's too likeable (or hateable) for that. He's never had to hide a relationship before because what girl wouldn't want to be with him? All his friendships are well known, or were, back when he was in high school. There weren't even secret rivalries!
So, it's an adjustment, keeping this thing with Eddie a secret. But he's trying. Even though all he wants to do is hold his hand every hour of every day he refrains because. Because?
Well, he's not really full on those details. He knows it's partially because Eddie isn't out to anyone in the group except Steve. He's not even out to Robin, and Steve thought for sure they'd figure each other out and bond over it but that hasn't happened yet. Eddie's also said something about keeping it to themselves so they can just be themselves, together, without other people. When Eddie had whispered that it had sounded so sweet and romantic. But that was, like, two months ago and it's.... it's still romantic, but Steve wants to ramble about how beautiful Eddie is to Robin.
Also! This secret keeping is causing Robin to worry! He can't keep secrets from Robin, he never has. He told Robin he thought he might like guys exactly 0.4 seconds after he'd realized it! In fact, he's so bad at secret keeping that he's told her he has a boyfriend. Won't say who, and Robin won't push. All he had to say was his boyfriend wasn't ready to come out and that was that.
He's out to the Party, too. Mostly as an accidental outing he didn't back down from even when Will offered him an out with his quick thinking. Jonathan knows, too. That was an on-purpose telling after Will came out to Steve when they were finally alone, and Steve learned Jonathan knew about Will.
Anyway. Steve's never been a secret before. He doesn't want to continue being one. He just wants Eddie's permission to tell Robin. He'll be fine with waiting even if Eddie says he's not ready for Robin to know, of course, but he just. He wants Robin to know who the amazing person he rants about is.
So, imagine his surprise when, halfway down the stairs to the basement at Eddie and Wayne's new house to talk to Eddie about telling Robin, he hears his name.
"-because it's Steve Harrington, y'know?" Gareth's voice floats up the stairs to Steve and he freezes. Is Gareth a goddman psychic!? How did he know Steve was here?
"That's your reasoning? Because it's Steve?" Eddie asks, and oh. They don't know he's here. They're talking about him. Steve should make himself known. He shouldn't just stand here and listen. But. Well, if Eddie's finally telling his friends about them, he kinda wants to hear it. Want to hear Eddie spill the secret so they can quit being so secretive.
"Well, yeah. You're the one who's always saying people don't change. Did you lie to me? To us? Has Steve changed?" That's Jeff's voice, and his questions make Steve gut twist. But Eddie's not Nancy. He's not- they aren't bullshit. Eddie knows that. He'll defend Steve. He'll tell them the truth. There's silence, though. Eddie doesn't defend him.
"What's with the silence?" Frankie asks, when Eddie's been quiet too long. Funny, Steve wanted to ask the same thing.
"I'm trying to not snap at you all," Eddie says, and he sounds angry. "I get that you guys might still be hesitant or whatever, but you don't get to come here and throw accusations when you haven't even tried to be friends with him! This is why I don't invite him to come hang out with us! 'Cause you can be a bunch of dicks sometimes!"
Steve feels a warmth bloom inside him. He knew Eddie would defend him, he did. It's just hard to believe sometimes, and he's not going to make that Eddie's problem. But hearing it. Hearing that Eddie does defend him even when he doesn't know Steve's around to hear it. Fuck, it makes him want to kiss Eddie so bad.
"Hey, man, I'm sorry," Jeff says, "you're right. We are being dicks, and pretty standoffish with Steve. We aren't giving him a fair chance."
"You're not!" Eddie agrees aggressively. "Even if he wasn't my b- my friend, he's still the reason I'm even fucking alive. So, respect that at least."
Steve stands at the midpoint of the stairs until the conversation turns to a different topic before he tiptoes back to the top of the steps to turn around and thunder down the stairs loudly, giving everyone in the basement a warning to his arrival.
He'll tell a lie, that he was driving around because he was bored and thought to stop and see what Eddie was up to, and get invited to stay and hang out. Eddie's friends are more open with him than they usually are and Steve doesn't waste the opportunity to try and really engage with them, get to know them.
He can be a secret just a little longer, he supposes, when he looks away from Jeff and catches Eddie staring at him with the same adoration he sees on Eddie's face when they're alone. And judging by the almost slip up earlier, Eddie might be getting closer to not being a secret, too.
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bucknastysbabe · 4 months ago
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For the celebration blurb thing I like the way you kiss me by Artemas
I like the way you kiss me, I can tell you miss me
I can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits
Not tryna be romantic, I'll hit it from the back
Just so you don't get attached (yes, yes, yes)
You bite my lip just for the taste
You're on your knees, I'm on the case
You take the heat and with such grace
You say, "We're done, " but here you stay
With pookie?
Pookie say less nonnie😉😉😉😉😉😉
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Songfic, fwb to more, modern au, background Rhaewin, pnv!sex, oral sex (m!receiving), blurb, they just be horny as hell
Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk @aemondfairy @arcielee @elaratyrell @fairysluna @jamespotterismydaddy @lovelykhaleesiii @peachysunrize @starogeorgina @zaldritzosrose
I like the way you kiss me - Artemas - C. Cole
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I like the way you kiss me, I can tell you miss me. I can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits
Criston shoved your smaller form into the wall of your apartment, lips crashed against yours, his hand cradling the back of your head. He was a needy kisser, quick to slip some tongue and tilt your head for better access. You moaned into his eager lips, nails scrabbling at his shorter hair.
You don’t know why he did that- his hair was gorgeous.
He groaned against your mouth, “S’been a little long.” He shut you up with another desperate lip lock, his other hand gripping your ass, pulling you flush to his already swollen cock. Gods, he couldn’t help it, you two weren’t together and still he acted like it was a reunion of long-lost lovers.
In reality, it was two broken souls coming off separate breakups. Mutual friend group, it just happened. Months ago. Here you were again, whining and grinding against him, wrapping a barely covered leg around his slim hips. Something about Criston’s way of expressing his desire was addicting, hitting stronger than any drink or drug.
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Not tryna be romantic, I'll hit it from the back
Just so you don't get attached.
Criston grunted, “On your hands and knees, yeah, like that.”
He took you from behind, a rule to this little arrangement. You could hear the foil of the condom, getting on your elbows for the angle. Criston hissed softly as he rolled the condom on, a warm hand on your lower back as he guided his cock into your soaked cunt.
No attachment.
Both of his hands tightened on your hips as he buried himself deep, groaning, “Fuuuck, fuck sweetness, you feel so good.” You mewled, arching for him, eyes closed as he began to thrust roughly, hips slapping hard enough to bruise you. Criston punched high cries out of your throat, thick cock unrelenting, the man’s strength more than he realized.
You bite my lip just for the taste.
Criston leaned his torso across your back, panting against your cheek, nose pressed into you. His hands roved around, lecherous and greedy. Almost possessive. He found your lips, nipping your lip hard, drawing blood. He lapped it up, you shivering at the gentle movements, Criston moaning, “Taste so sweet.”
No attachment. Then why did he like kissing so much?
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You're on your knees, I'm on the case
Your ‘friend’ would come over to hang out, easygoing at first. It was a coin toss on who would initiate first. Tonight it was you, sliding between his pretty thighs, mouth-watering, way past the point of caring about a movie. Criston’s bitty shorts and the outline of his cock was distracting.
His dark eyes gazed down, lips faintly turning up into a smirk. Criston murmured, “Need something in that mouth, huh?” You nodded with a weak noise, pawing at his waistband, sliding down the sinful excuse of a pair of shorts. His head fell back as you swallowed him down, moaning eagerly.
No attachment. Then why did he call you his pretty baby when he came down your throat?
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You take the heat and with such grace.
Criston gripped your thighs and ass, hips. Anything he could get his hands on. The pair of you were at the same party and their respective ex-lovers also there. Rhaenyra and Harwin were shacking up too now it seemed. It didn’t hurt like you thought it would. Criston eyed the pair, always more sensitive than you were.
His lips pressed to your neck, beard rubbing your sensitive skin raw. He didn’t even bother with a condom anymore, you’d gotten an IUD. Grabbing his longer hair, you gasped, “Criston, baby, you good?” He nodded, pressing his forehead against yours, eyes dark.
“You take me so well,” he purred.
Criston pulled your hips forward, drilling harder into your tight cunt. He panted and groaned, breathing hotly against your lips. The man grinned while swirling a thumb around your clit, shushing your frantic whining. He asked gently “How come you take me so well? Starting to think you were made for me.”
No attachment. Yet this took the cake.
You say, "We're done, " but here you stay
You were scared. Scared of falling again. Criston spooned your naked form, lounging in the morning. The sunrise cast over his gorgeous skin, golden and smooth. He dug his face into your neck, grumbling. It felt normal, right, good.
“I think we should call this off,” you murmured.
Criston popped his head up, dark eyes serious. He raised a brow, pulling you closer and settling. His hand pressed to your stomach, gently. His raspy morning voice vibrated across the junction of your shoulder and neck.
“But here you stay, love.”
A moment of realization passed. Yet here you stayed. You weren’t going to leave, didn’t want to. He was comforting and sweet, kind, and well…fuck it.
“Here I stay,” you agreed.
He kissed your neck, grinning for once.
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swee7dream · 4 months ago
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how would the dreamies react to their s/o regressing for the first time in front of them after being super stressed and not being able to be a little ? ^^
it’s been a long time caregiver!nct dream x gender-neutral!regressor!reader
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genres sfw age regression content, established relationship, hurt / comfort, angst in some, bits of fluff in all warnings involuntary / vent regression, regression block, negative self-talk, haechan's is long sry dni if you sexualize age regression. not only blocking but also reporting.
author’s note i'm SO sorry this took so long for me to get out. i promise i didn't forget about you, nonnie! i might've geared a little bit ( a lot ) off the prompt at times but i still hope you like it ! thx 4 requesting !
mark lee (ᓀ‸ᓂ) wc 642
With all your responsibilities lately, Mark finds it logical that you don’t regress as often as you used to. The last time he remembers was over three months ago. He misses taking care of you, hearing your sweet voice call out for your 'Mack!'. But he doesn’t want to burden you even more with any expectations to do anything you weren’t feeling up to do. He wasn’t planning to bring it up. Honest.
That was until you started coming home to avoid his kisses and go straight to bed. That moment left a pang in his heart.
In the silence and tension of your apartment, Mark finds himself in your little corner of tiny things, picking up your toys and dusting off your coloring books with longing. He misses his baby, so he’s going to get his baby back, he decides, no matter what it takes.
“Oh look, that new Disney movie came out you said you wanted to go see it, right?”
“I’m tired, Mark.”
“…okay.” He bites the inside of his cheek.
Just keep trying, Mark. You got this.
“Babe, I’m doing laundry. You want me to wash Cheese Doodle?” He knocks at your office door.
“Huh?” You raise your head as if you were a fish out of water. “Uh, yeah. That’s fine. Thank you.”
Hmph.
“What is that?” You give the box in Mark’s hand a look.
“It’s a game. Picked it up at the store. It’s like… Twister? But there’s something different about it. I dunno, I didn’t pay attention to the label and just bought it. Chenle asked that we bring some kind of board game for his party on Saturday.”
“Oh. Well, I have a thing on Saturday so tell him I can’t go but I hope everyone has fun.”
As the saying goes, the fourth time’s a charm.
“You’re not going to bed?” You rub your eyes, already in your night clothes and under the sheets.
“Not really tired,” he replies with a shrug as he makes his way out into the kitchen. “I think I’m gonna make myself some angel milk to get the sleeping juices going. That always worked for you. You want some?”
You’re already pretty tired, the events of the day had sucked every last drop of potential energy from you. Still, some angel milk in all its sweet, vanilla-tasting glory makes you lick your lips.
“…yeah. Please,” you answer.
When he comes back from the kitchen, he has your warm drink in one hand and Cheese Doodle—your orange puppy stuffie—in the other.
“Sit up for me, baby,” he says softly as he sits down on the edge of the bed, not wanting to spill anything from your favorite mug.
“Unicorn…!” You notice, taking the pink and rainbow cup in your two sleeve-clad hands. “Thank you.”
“Mhm.” Mark smiles. “and I just took cheese doodle out of the laundry too. Used the fabric softener that you like. Wanna feel?”
“Oh.” In a second, you’re like a cat rubbing your cheek against Cheese Doodle’s fur. “Smells good, Markie. Thank you.”
”Of course, baby. Feeling tiny?” He asks only now that he’s 95% sure you are.
”Little bit,” you admit into your mug, slurping quietly to not burn yourself.
”Aw.” He pouts. “That’s good. You know, Markie missed you, baby. I haven’t held my baby in such a long time.”
”Missed Markie too.” You blink at him with sleepy eyes and a milk mustache. “Lot.”
”Wanna cuddle for a little then?”
”Just for a lil' bit.” You nod, placing your angel milk on the bedside table.
Mark knows the mug will be forgotten by the morning but he'd rather make and waste a million angel milks than for you to forget him and Cheese Doodle again.
huang renjun ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა wc 594
“Oh that’s a nice painting, Jun,” you praise, resting your chin on his shoulder as he sits on a stool. “Very pretty.”
“I feel like it’s missing something, though,” he says with a frown. “Here. You paint something.”
“On your canvas?” You look at him. “No way, love. I’ll ruin it.”
“You won’t. Now take the brush.”
“I won’t.” You step back and cross your arms. “I’m not gonna mess up this painting you’ve been working so hard on with my clumsiness.”
“What are you talking about? You always add something to my paintings.” Renjun gives you a look. The look that makes you want to roll your eyes.
“And they’re always so much better before me.”
“You don’t think that.”
“I do.”
“Why are you talking about yourself in this way all of a sudden?”
“Because it’s true!” You explode. There’s a burning in the backs of your eyes as you keep talking. “All I’ve been doing lately is messing up stuff for other people. I’m no good, Renjun.”
“…”
“My boss thinks it, my team members think it. I know you think it too!” You sob.
“Darling-”
“Stop it, Jun.”
“Darling,” he repeats, taking your hand in his. “come here.”
He pulls you in with one hand and wipes your tears with another, so careful he almost makes you think you are glass.
“What’s in that green binder in the bookshelf over there?” he asks.
“What?” You furrow your brows. “I don’t know.”
“Go check.”
You give him a look but make your way to the oak bookshelf; filled with sketchbooks, novels, and a singular green binder. You look at Renjun when your fingers touch the spine and take it out only after he nods. Your knees wobble as you flip through the pages so you let your bottom hit the floor.
In the binder are the handwritten notes from back before the two of you even started dating; flirtatious exchanges recorded on coffee shop napkins, gum wrappers, and ripped-up bits of college notes. The next stage of your relationship is at the flip of a page; rushed post-it notes of domestic living with 'I love you!'s and 'Don't forget to eat!'s kept safe in the plastic sheets.
You look up at him with surprise but he only nods his head for you to keep flipping pages. You flip through empty slips until you almost reach the back cover and find all the drawings you’ve made for Renjun over the years while in regression. Each and every one. Even the ones where you're mad at him and have him eaten by monsters.
“You kept them…” You pass a finger over a drawing you made of the two of you, your stickmen-selves holding hands and smiling in a rocket ship.
“Of course I did, baby. How could I throw away something so perfect?” You hear his voice next to you, having gotten up from his seat to crouch next to you on the floor. He gently pulls your head into his chest and his lips drop to kiss the top of your head. “I don’t think you mess up things, my love. Ever. You simply change their direction. My Lovebug is the most creative, innovative person in the whole wide world, didn’t you know?”
“Junnie…” You sob, the dam of pent-up emotions finally seeking release.
“Hi there, babybug.” He whispers. “I’m right here, lovey. Right here. Let it all out.”
lee jeno ૮ .◜◡◝ა wc 655
“Babe, the ice is melting and your coke is turning into gross, brown, sweet-tasting water,” Jeno warns.
“One second, baby. I just need to finish this assignment real quick,” you mutter with your bottom lip bit in place.
It seems you’re still in the same clothes from three days ago, the same amount of time Jeno’s seen you stay in bed studying. He’s beginning to think your butt might be attached permanently to the mattress at this point. When it comes to your bedside table, your 5-hour energy from lunchtime being the latest addition to the food trash and empty water bottle pile doesn’t fill him with any more positive thoughts.
“When’s it for?” He sighs. “Your assignment.”
“…what?” You turn your head to him but your eyes stay on the screen. “Oh, um, Friday.”
“It’s Monday. Come on.” Jeno pulls at your arm like a spoiled child. “I’m not even making you shower or anything. I just wanna hang out with my hermit, stinky, computer nerd. Will you grant me my wish please?”
You look up with a half-offended, half-amused expression and your jaw dropped.
“I’m not stinky!” You fail to shake off your arm from his hold. “I told you I’m coming! I just really need to finish this.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Ye- ah!” You squeal as Jeno pulls at your arm, throwing you over his shoulder. “Jeno! I’m serious!”
“I’m serious too. Monday to Friday is five days-”
“Four days!”
“-and that’s more than enough time to finish your assignment.” He refuses to acknowledge your interruption. “You are going to eat a proper dinner with me on the couch as we watch TV and you’re gonna like it, you got that?”
“Augh…!” You groan, going limp on him.
“Oh, I know.” Jeno pouts as he sets you on the couch, covering you in your train-print fleece blanket. “I’m so mean, aren’t I? Asking you to take a break when all you wanna do is work, work, work.”
You just stare at him, squinting your eyes as you fail to hide a smile.
“Well unfortunately for you, gumdrop, babies don’t work! So I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. The police will come after me if I do. Child labor laws or something like that.”
He leaves a quick kiss on your forehead right before speeding to the kitchen. Jeno’s eyebrows wiggle in a wave when he returns with your food; apple slices, chicken nuggets, and fries all in their respective spots in your divided plate.
The original pasta and movie date night plan being scrapped for a Nono-Gumdrop night doesn’t phase Jeno. In fact, it excites him. Your projects and exams and assignments and professors... he tries so hard not to hold resentment against them all as they pull his baby away from him. But tonight? Tonight is different, and for once in his life, caregiver Jeno is triumphant.
“Thank you…” Your fingers wrap around the blue silicone and Jeno engulfs you in a bear hug when he sits down. Tight but not so tight it obstructs your arms when eating. “What are we watching, Nono?”
“Max and Ruby.” He smiles when you gasp.
“Love Max and Ruby!” You gush with a mouthful of apples.
“Do you?” Jeno drops his head to the side. “You do? You do? Nuh-uh. I do. It’s my favorite show in the whole wide world.”
“Well, ’s my favorite show in the whole galaxy!”
“Yeah? Well-”
You squeal, feeling ticklish when he nuzzles his stubble on your face.
“Nono, stop!” You giggle.
“Eat up, gumdrop.” He sighs, the feeling of his baby in his arms and eating a proper meal for the first time in days is an incomparable joy. “Two episodes and then it’s bathtime.”
“Ah, boo, Nono!” you whine but it turns back to giggles when he compresses you in his arms.
lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ wc 994
“You there, Angel?”
You shake your head.
It feels strange, like your body isn’t yours, as you hold on tight to your dolls in your hands and see none of the lively sparkle in their eyes you usually do when you’re small.
“I’m broken, Hyuck,” you say with such a lack of emotions that you can’t tell if it’s actually you who is speaking. “I did everything right. I got dressed, I put on the music box, I’m trying to play for God’s sake. And nothing is working still. I feel ridiculous. A grown adult trying to act like a child.” You scoff.
“Hey, stop.” Donghyuck’s firm tone sends a shiver down your spine and you pull away. His shoulders drop when he notices; you’re scared and he’s only making it worse.
“That’s my baby you’re talking about, you know?” He tries again, with a softer tone this time. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You are not broken.” He holds your cheek.
“I’m just so tired, Hyuck.” Tears come up and blur your vision. “Everything has been going on for so long at the exact same time and I just- I can’t anymore. I need to just step away from reality for a little bit but I can’t even do that. My brain is just locking me in here in this state of suffering for who knows how long and I have no way of getting out. Not even for an hour.” You sob.
“I know, lovely.” He wraps his arms around you, letting you in turn wrap your arms around his legs from your seat on the floor. “It’s been so much for so long. You deserve a little break. Take a deep breath. Let’s try to let go of all these grownup worries, okay? We can pick them back up later. Come on, Angel, breathe.”
Angel.
Channie called you Angel and you still don’t feel small. The realization makes for more tears to come up but you refuse to let another defeated cry leave you. The denim of his jeans is rough on your face but not rough enough to make you stop using it as a tissue for your tears.
“…okay,” you creak out. “Breathe in. Breathing in…”
“There we go.” Haechan passes a hand over your head, the sensation soothing you somewhat. “And out. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Good job, Angel. Nice long deep breaths.”
You repeat the action several times, following his counts and pushing yourself to feel his jeans under your fingertips and smell the woodsy notes of his cologne to ground yourself.
“Everything sucks,” you say after some moments of silence. “Everything sucks. I didn’t even ask for any of this. I just want to be small,” your voice breaks.
“And you will be.” Donghyuck’s touch is gentle, encouraging you without words to look up at him. The pad of his thumb is warm when it wipes the tears from your face, brushing against your damp lashes. “You will be. I promise.”
“I don’t know what to do, Hyuck. I’m all out of ideas at this point,” you admit.
“How about just trying to feel not sucky?” He scrunches his nose, the most tender of smiles painted on his face. “How about… just drawing a picture? Just one. Doesn’t have to be with crayon or marker like when you’re feeling tiny. It can be whatever you want it to be. Don’t think about being small, just about drawing.”
“…draw what?”
“Hm… what about your dolls?”
When you unwrap yourself from his legs to look at said dolls, it gives Donghyuck the chance to go grab your art supplies. Your dolls don’t have that lively aura you see them with when you’re small but you can almost feel a sort of pity and empathy from them. It reminds you of the type of support your friends give you in their messages despite the country lines separating you.
“And I’ll draw… a car. Jeno’s been getting me into Formula One.” Donghyuck pulls you out of your thoughts when his voice is so close it makes you turn to see he’s taken a seat next to you on the floor. He opens a pencil case right in front of you two and takes a black pencil for himself to begin sketching on some paper.
“Really?” You opt a red pencil.
“Yeah. It’s pretty interesting.” He shrugs.
“But ’s so boring.” You sniffle up some snot from your lightning-fast crying session. You didn’t even cry for that long, how come you can feel your eyes swelling? So annoying. “They just go around in circles.”
“It’s not just that though. There’s—pass me the red? Oh, you have it. No, it’s okay. I can wait—there’s like a ton of beef between them. I like watching the interviews and stuff. It’s like watching basketball or football.” Haechan lets out a groan as he lays on his stomach, resting a cheek on his fist. “That’s really pretty, baby.”
“Y’like it?” You move to mirror him, turning your drawing for him to see better. “Think I’m gonna add some other stuff too.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know yet,” you admit. “Probably you. I always like drawing you. And then… your red car. You can take me and the dollies on a road trip. I like it when we have fun together.”
Affection floods out of Donghyuck, letting out an adoring ‘aw’ as he hugs you, leaving kisses on all the spots he knows won’t lead to a tickle fight.
“So cute! I always have fun with you. My Angel...” he hums into your temple.
“My Channie…” you mutter under your breath, sketching his head four times bigger than the rest.
na jaemin ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ wc 664
“I’m okay.” You rub your nose. “Just a couple sneezes, Jaem. It’s not a big deal. I can keep studying for a little while longer.”
“You sneezed four times in a row.” Jaemin stands next to your desk chair with his arms crossed. “Do you know what that means?”
“What?” You sigh, knowing he won’t leave until you entertain him.
“You have the plague.”
“The what?”
“The plague.”
“Baby, I don’t have the-” Achoo! “the-” Achoo! “the plague…”
You move your mouse around your screen and click away at it but it doesn’t hide the reflection of Jaemin’s intense stare into your skull. He’s not amused. You spin your chair around.
“I don’t have the plague,” you repeat with a clogged nose, not even convincing yourself this time. “…I just have a little cold.”
“I wonder where you could have gotten that from, hm?” He turns you toward him by the chair’s arms and traps you by holding onto both of them and leaning in until your foreheads almost touch. “Maybe from studying a little too much? From stretching yourself too thin? Pushing yourself past your limits? Hm? Hm? hm?” He turns his head at an angle with each question, being obnoxious about his accurate statements.
“Five minutes.”
“No.”
“I just need to email this professor.”
“No.”
“I have a group project.”
“Good thing you have groupmates, huh? Come on, get off your pretty little butt.” He grabs you from under the armpits, placing your feet on the ground as if you were merely a bag of rice. “We’re playing hospital.”
“No…” you whine with dragging feet the whole time Jaemin guides you to the kitchen, his gentlemanly hand giving you no chance to run as it rests on the small of your back.
“Yes…” He pouts at you as he fills up the syringe with orange medicinal syrup. “Babies need be good and take their medicine when they are sick, okay?”
“Jaemin-” You pull your head the other way, holding his wrist away from you.
“Baby…” he sings, dodging your attempts. “Say ‘ah’, pumpkin.”
Pressing your lips tight doesn’t do anything, the plastic tip of the syringe still slipping in and filling your mouth with bitter medicine that makes a lame attempt at orange flavoring. You shake your head, still rejecting the cold syrup as it goes down, but it does regardless, chilling your throat when it does.
“Bleh!”
“Drink some water, baby.” Jaemin holds up a cup (when did he fill that up?) and you take it as if it were the key to eternal life.
“Taste so icky,” you say with your face scrunched up like a raisin. “Hate it!”
You’re sick and suffering from forced consumption of medicine. Jaemin knows this. Jaemin shouldn’t smile. But he just can’t help it! His baby is finally back after such a long, long time. he thought he was gonna die from BWS (Baby Withdrawal Symptoms).
“Aw…” His hands reach out to hold your face and squish your cheeks together. “Baby doesn’t like medicine? Babies don’t like yucky bitter things. Babies like… sweet yummy things! How about some hot chocolate, lovey-dovey?”
“Chocwate?” you ask with raised eyebrows.
“Hot chocwate.” His nose scrunches as he pinches your cheeks. “Does that sound good?”
“Yeah!” You hop free of his crab claws. “Hot chocolate! Wanna, wanna, wanna!”
“Be careful, sugarplum!” Jaemin laughs, twirling you with such ease it feels as if you were in a dance. “Why don’t you go put something on the TV while I make us the chocolate? Whatever you want, baby,” he says, but you’re already out of the kitchen and looking under blankets and cushions for the remote.
“Spongebob!” You hold it up to the ceiling like it were the sword in the stone.
“Except Spongebob. You know that shrinks your brain.”
“Aw!” You slump but quickly straighten up like a ruler. “Ah- Ah- Achoo!”
zhong chenle (ᯟ︿ᯏ) wc 622
“I’m so proud of you.” Chenle pecks your head as you hold his waist from behind. The smells coming from the stove you two stand in front of are nothing if not heavenly. “Pretty, funny, kind, graduated. How’d I bag you?”
“Mmm, I dunno.” You shrug smugly, as you look out the window. A content sigh leaves you as your eyes follow the raindrops that slide down your window. “Must’ve done something good in your past life.”
“Must have,” he hums. “Set the table for me? I’m basically almost done.”
“You got it.” You peck his cheek. “Smells delicious. Jaemin give you cooking lessons while I was gone?”
“I’ll have you know I’m a great cook. I don’t need any cooking lessons. Never have.”
“Ah…” You roll out the placemats with a sarcastic nod.
“But if I did, I would go to Donghyuck.”
“If you did, I would approve. His soups are good.”
“Mine are better.”
“…”
“Right?”
“Sure.”
The music playing from the speakers and lights in the apartment all shut off at once, not even the hum of the refrigerator sounding in the silence, the darkness. The thunder is so close it feels like footsteps. Heavy, angry footsteps coming close. Closer and closer to you.
The power comes back as soon as it left but you can’t seem to recover as fast. You don’t even remember dropping down to hold your knees, and in the dark you didn’t see how many tears came up to overflow from your eyes. Chenle calls out your name but it sounds so distant it doesn’t even register. It feels like you’re running out of oxygen like a deep sea diver falling hopelessly down to the ocean floor.
“Hey,” you take a sharp inhale at Chenle’s warm hands holding your cheeks ground you back to reality. “Hey, the power went out. Everything’s fine. You’re okay. You’re home, you’re with me. Nothing is gonna hurt you here, you hear me? You are safe.”
You almost knock Chenle over from his crouching position when you throw yourself on him, but he reads your body language just in time to catch you. His lips press into your hair, your temples, your shoulders, the softest of touches as you wail into his shirt. His heart breaks at how fragile you seem in the moment, like a porcelain doll with a chip. You sob and babble to the point that Chenle can’t understand what you’re saying. All he can catch is one word.
“Daddy…”
There’s nothing for you to do but cry, Chenle’s learned with time, so he lets you do just that. He lets you cry in his arms there on the floor and when you’re finally willing he attaches you to his hip as he walks around. He wipes your tears with a paper towel and makes sure you get a bottle of water to drink from to rehydrate.
His eyebrows furrow when you turn your head to dodge his spoon, rejecting the meal you were so looking forward to less than twenty minutes ago. This meal which was meant to be a celebration of not just the end of your education but of all your life up to this point. Of your growth, your endurance; of all the stress you put yourself through to come out victorious in the end.
You’re still victorious, he thinks. Even now as you fill up the apartment with tears, he’s so proud of you. His partner, his baby, the strongest person he’s ever met.
“Come on, dollface. Just one spoonful, yeah? Need you to eat,” he tries again.
park jisung (∩˃o˂∩) wc 668
“What’s that giant box?”
“What giant box?” He looks at you on the couch. “...I thought you were napping.”
“I woke up. What’s with that giant box you’re pushing into our house?”
“Oh, this?” Jisung looks down. “It's… a box.”
You blink, irritation in your tight-lipped smile at your boyfriend’s lack of cooperation.
“I know it’s a box, Ji. I'm asking what’s inside the box?”
“Box… stuff…”
“Jisung!”
“That’s not my name!” He whines as he shuts the front door. “My name to you is Ji! Or Baby! Not Jisung! It’s so scary when you call me that...” He sighs. “It was supposed to come before you started your vacation time, while you were at work.”
“Why?” Your eyebrows come together into a questioning frown.
“Because- just- you’ll see soon. Pass me the scissors? Thanks.” He pecks your lips, taking the scissors from your hands and pushing your back away with little force. “Now go. Get! Your surprise will be ready in a minute. Go… brush your dolls’ hair or something. It’ll be super quick.”
“Doll hairs? is it a Little gift?”
“Shoot.” Jisung bites his fist. “...can you just go in the bedroom already? It’s not a Little gift. It’s not.”
The instructions that came in the box of the not-Little gift said construction would only take thirty minutes. Not to fear, with super handyman Park Jisung to the rescue it only took three hours and two people.
“We’re done!” You clap, looking in awe at your brand new play kitchen, pink and wooden and creaky and yours. “Jiji, finish!”
“Yeah.” He sits back on the floor, wiping the sweat from his brow. “We’re finished. D’you like it?”
“It’s so pretty, jiji!” You beam, hugging his head and squeezing the brains out of him.
“I’m glad you like it, bub.” He nods at his work in approval. “You deserve it. Worked so hard recently.”
“Thankie!” You get up quickly, running barefoot into the bedroom to come back with a box of play food in all colors and sizes.
“Make you a lenonade, bubby!” You begin adding ice to a cup and add a lemon to it. “Ice cold lenonade.”
“Oh, I love your lenonade. Thanks, baby.” He takes the cup, making gulping noises and finishing it off with a loud and satisfied ‘ah!’. “Actually, are we playing restaurant right now?”
“Um… yeah!” you decide. “Welcome to my rest’rant! What would you like to order?”
“I would kill for a good burger.” Jisung pats his stomach like a starved man. “I hear you guys have some good ones, is that true?”
“The truest!” You smile. “One burger, comin’ up!”
You turn back to your kitchen and hum to yourself as you place a burger patty on the stove.
“No pans for that?”
“No pans!” You shake your head. “Special burger.”
“Ah, must be.” He mutters behind you.
When it comes to building time, Jisung acts like a to-be-blacklisted customer.
“Could I have no onions in my burger? I’m allergic.”
“No, you’re not.”
“It’s just play pretend, honey.”
“Oh. Then, yes you can, sir! No onions.”
“And no tomatoes please. I don’t like how the seeds get stuck between my teeth.”
“No tomatoes!”
“And could you cut the cheese? It kind of sends me to the bathroom.”
“Ew… okay, no cheese, either!” You toss the slice of play cheese to the side.
“…could you also remove the meat? I’m vegetarian.”
That’s the final straw. No meat? You look down at his ‘burger’: bread, lettuce, bread.
“This is what you want?” You turn to show him his order.
“Oh yes.” He smiles, clasping his hands together in anticipation. “That’s my burger! So tasty. Thank you, shop owner.”
“You’re welcome…” You give him a look. “Ketchup?”
“No thanks.”
“Mayo?”
“Bleh! Pass.”
“…barbeque sauce?”
“Oh, that’s my favorite! Lettuce and barbeque sauce burger, my favorite.” He licks his lips.
“Jiji, ew!” you whine.
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tag list ( ask / comment to join ! ) @mystarsohee @cupofwyn @iwontlettheselittlethingsslip @aeriaeri
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sweetestcaptainhughes · 3 months ago
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15❤️‍🩹 w Quinn pls 🤧🤧
thank you nonnie for being so patient I know you sent me this almost 2 days ago now. 🫶🏻🙈
200 Followers Celebration
Trying to subtly touch their crush to hint at their feelings.
The thing about Quinn was that sometimes, he can be.... well dumb as shit when it came to anything girl related. His introverted very much "mind my business" attitude he had going for him, left him often not aware of his surroundings. This was often why his fans would roast him online, they all found it adorable and you did too. It was one of the many things that made you fall for Quinn Hughes in the first place.
But now, when you were trying to show Quinn that you liked him, and his brain was a million miles away. Something that you found adorable was now one trait about him that made you want to scream. Because here you both were watching a movie at the lakehouse, which mind you. Both of you aren't together but he begged you to come visit him during the summer because "I haven't gone more than a week without spending time with you since we met. I can't go three months Y/N/N." At the time it made your heart sworn but now. Sitting here, grazing your hand with his bigger one. Acting tired and putting your head on his shoulder. Instead of the big flashlights going off in his head like "oh shit y/n likes me."
His dumbass really goes "hun if you're tired you can go bed. I'll help you upstairs. I know you might be feeling a little tipsy from all the drinks we had dinner."
And just like that instead of telling him how you felt, you said okay and let the man who you've liked maybe even fallen in love with almost a year ago now help you up the stairs.
96 notes · View notes
redr0sewrites · 1 month ago
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Hi Rose! I hope you're still writing for Hazbin because I have a Vox request! I enjoyed your Vox fluff/comfort hcs from a while ago and it made me need more soft!Vox if that's something you're comfortable with writing. Specifically I've been going through a pretty major depressive episode lately (not in a dangerous way, just in the sense that something happened where I feel like I've failed one too many times and it's past the point where I can just pick myself up and try something new), so maybe something with Vox comforting the reader through that? I feel like he might be able to relate given that he's such a perfectionist and clearly doesn't handle rejection well, so I can see him having practical advice and guiding me through concrete solutions, but also I just want him to hug me and let me cry on his shoulder for a long time😭 Thank you!!! I appreciate your writing so much!
🥀A/n: i've had this in my inbox for a WHILE (sorryyyy <\3) so i hope ur feeling better now nonnie!!! i totally get the feeling, and i loved writing this request <33
🥀Cw: fluff, angst w comfort, negative self views, mental health themes
🥀Character(s): Vox x reader
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your breath came out in hiccuping gasps as you struggled to maintain any sense of control. you sat hunched over on your bed, shaking uncontrollably as tears stream down your face. it had been another long day, and god, you just felt like a screw up. it seemed no matter how hard you tried, every day always left you with that same feeling of emptiness, just as it had been every other day for the past few months. you were so, so tired of everything, of getting no satisfaction from things you usually enjoyed, and of having to fight just to remain somewhat sane. it was truly and utterly exhausting. you lean back against the headboard, a soft thump accompanying your heads' collision with the sturdy wood. as your tears continue.
the slam of your bedroom door causes you to pause, and you flinch from the sudden illumination of your hunched figure.
"where were you? i called you twice, what-" Vox storms in, hands waving about, only for him to pause at the sight of you. his harsh tone only makes you cry harder, pulling your knees up to your chest.
"i'm- sorry, i-i turned my phone off-" you force out your words, fighting to keep yourself from bursting into tears again, but its no use. your shoulders shake in silent sobs as you cover your face with your hands, embarrassment overcoming you.
"oh, oh its okay, its fine-" Vox struggles with his words. for all of his blustering confidence in public, when it came to genuinely comforting someone, he was clueless.
"i'll be right back, i promise!" he practically shouts, racing out of the door. in the few seconds he's gone, you can't help but spiral deeper. why couldn't you just try harder, be better than this? you're so fucking stupid, god, of course he was angry at you. you don't hear Vox when he returns, and you jump when the mattress dips and a clawed hand begins gently rubbing your back. you sniffle softly, and the only sound in the room is your heavy sobs.
"shh, i brought you some water," Vox murmurs, voice uncharacteristically low. "did someone hurt you? because i swear, if someone even laid a finger in you im going to fucking-"
"no one hurt me, Vox," you swallow hard. "m fine, really, i just- its fine."
Vox is silent for a few more moments, and even though you can't see him as your face is still buried in your hands, you can practically feel his gaze on you.
"was it.. me? did i do something?"
this startles you, and you raise your head to look at him.
"w-what? no, of course not, 'm just- i had a long day, is all. i just feel so... stuck."
you blink at his screen, tears settling on your lashes. he stares back, studying you with a concerned gaze. he doesn't offer any words of encouragement, you know that's not his strong suit anyway. instead, he gently takes both of your hands in his, handing you the glass of water and slowly guiding it to your mouth. he watches as you take a sip before placing it on your night stand, before opening his arms and motioning for you to come closer. you happily oblige, melting into his side and wrapping your arms around his waist. he leans back against the headboard and you stay like that for a while, softly crying into his shoulder as he rubs your back and holds you steady. as your sobs begin to subside, you pull away to look at him again.
"i'm just so.. tired. tired of this, tired of feeling weak and overwhelmed. fuck, i just wish..." you trail off, melting back into his embrace again. Vox is silent for a few moments, contemplating what to say.
"i think your great, y'know that?"
"what..?"
"i think your great, wonderful, and so talented. you're the best partner i could ever ask for, and im so lucky to have you. you know that, right?"
"mhm..?" you hum questioningly, unsure of his objective.
"now, i know i'm not good at this sort of thing, and i know its tough, but i want you to know that, i'm, i'm here, y'know? and if you're ever, like, having a moment like this, you don't need to hide. i'm here, and i understand." Vox waves his hands as he talks, and you reposition to lean against his chest.
"i know, and its okay. 'm lucky to have you too," you mumble, and he chuckles lowly.
"is that so? you're going to give me a complex if you keep this up, baby."
"good. 'cause your the best."
"only for you."
you giggle at that, knowing that its true, and Vox smiles. he'd do anything for that sound, for your happiness. and, as you slowly drift off to sleep, you know that you'll be okay for that exact reason. you may not feel okay now, but you will, because he'll be right there beside you, on both good and bad days.
erm. hello hazbin hotel community. im slinking back like a toxic ex rn...... ANYWAYS !!! HOPE U ENJOYED !!!! its been a hot minute since i wrote for HH in general, esp for vox, so apologies if the characterization is ehhhh. PSLPSLSPSLSPSL SEND IN REQUESTS IVE BEEN DYING RECENTLY MY INBOX IS BONE DRY IT COULD BE FOR THE 2K EVENT OR JUST SOMETHING RANDOMMM (also especially some vox, lucifer, adam, or lute requests plspslsps)
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thetriumphantpanda · 2 years ago
Note
The sexual tension between the prompts ‘i shouldn't allow myself to get this close to you’ and ‘say you want me, and i’m yours’
Please give this to us with Javier Peña
(Also these prompts are so Javier Peña coded, I couldn’t think about anyone but him)
Nonnie, you are not alone in not being able to think about anyone else but Javier Peña for these prompts because I'm right there with you.
Firstly, I apologise - I got TOTALLY carried away with this and managed nearly 3K words for this prompt. Secondly, I apologise for what this is going to do to you all.
Pairing | Javier Peña x Female Reader
Word Count | 2.7K (Oooops, right?)
Porn with plot below the cut. Mention of religion, drinking, smoking, and description of unprotected piv sex and oral (f receiving). ENJOY.
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Javier Peña is in trouble, there is no denying it. When he came back to Laredo after the shitstorm in Colombia he’d wanted a quiet life. Helping Chucho around the ranch, maybe getting in his truck to take weekend trips to places he’d never been before, all the things he thought he was supposed to do with his extremely early retirement from the DEA. He hadn’t banked on the daughter of the towns pastor bounding into his life and testing every ounce of resolve he’d ever had. 
He wasn’t a religious man. There was no way he could be with what he’d seen or done in South America, but when Chucho had insisted on him attending church with him in the week that he’d come back, spouting something about needing to get back into town life instead of hiding himself away, his eyes had landed straight on the innocent girl sat in the front row, hands folded on her lap, listening intently to what the pastor was saying. 
“Since when did we have a new pastor?” Javier had asked when they’d made it outside, cigarette firmly between his lips despite telling himself he’d give up. 
“Moved in a few months ago,” His dad had replied, “Seem a nice family, I think their daughter is twenty-five, just back from college.” 
He’d nodded in understanding, trying not to let his eyes drag down your figure too much as you stood with your father at the door of the church to shake hands with everyone filing out to go about their Sunday business. He couldn’t help it though. You were shorter than him with hair falling around your face, framing it perfectly. That day you’d dressed in a modest white dress, falling just below the knee with sandals and he couldn’t help but compare you to an angel in his mind. An angel that he wanted so desperately to corrupt from the second he'd laid eyes on you. 
“Bad idea son,” Chucho had warned, “Of all the people in this town you could look at like that, this has to be the worst one.” 
He really had tried to heed his father’s advice. He knew it would be a terrible idea. A girl like you needed a straight and narrow man, someone to put a ring on your finger, buy you a house with a white picket fence and have babies. He was not that man. He would never be that man. However, from that day forward he’d seen you more and more. 
The first time he struck up a conversation with you was in the grocery store. Chucho had sent him into town to pick up some ingredients for dinner and he’d found you with your head in the freezer section, two pints of ice cream in front of you, trying to decide which one you wanted. 
“The mango one is my personal favourite.” He’d offered his advice, feeling like he’d been shot through the chest when you turned to look at him, big, beautiful eyes with an innocence to them he’d not seen in a long time. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever had mango ice cream before.” You’d replied. 
“Well then, you have to try it and then you have to let me know what you think.” 
He watched as you smiled at him, setting down the other pint of vanilla ice cream to put the mango in your shopping basket. 
“I don’t think we’ve met properly,” Javier spoke, “I’m Javier.” He held out his hand which you took, immediately overwhelmed with how soft your skin was and how small your hand was in his. 
You introduced yourself, “I think I’ve seen you at church.” 
“I have to admit I’m not a religious man, I just go because my father insists,” He’d admitted, “Probably not the best thing to say to the pastor’s daughter though.”  You’d laughed, “Between me and you, I’m not religious either.” 
He made a motion that he was zipping his lips which made you laugh even further. A sound so sweet he’d convinced himself he needed to do everything he could so he could hear it at much as possible. 
After that he’d found himself running into you more often. He’d make excuses to go to town in the hopes of running into you, he’d figured out your routine – you had lunch with friends at the diner on a Tuesday, always went to pick up ice-cream on a Friday evening and were always at church on Sunday. He’d even joined the library, figuring out you went on a Saturday afternoon to spend an hour picking out a new book and reading the first few pages sat on one of the benches there – something he’d started doing to just so he could spend time with you. He knew he was in too deep. He knew he shouldn’t be trying to get close to you, but the more he learnt about the less he could help himself. 
His father had always been a perceptive man and he knew what was going on. Why else would his son be rushing to shower in the middle of the day, changing into shirts that weren’t covered in mud and full of holes to disappear into town for hours on end. It came to a head one Saturday evening when they were sat on the front porch drinking beers together. 
“So, are you actually ever going to ask her out, or just follow her around like a lost puppy?” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Javi had replied, feigning innocence. 
“We both know you’re not that stupid,” He’d stated, “Although I always thought you’d be smarter than to think a guy like you would be good for a girl like her.” 
Javier would have been offended but it was true. Colombia had traced a darkness through him that he couldn’t shake. Waking up in cold sweats from the nightmares, glaring at the boats he saw riding down the river knowing exactly where they were going and with what on board, remembering all the people who had died, and for what? When he wasn’t with you he was closed off and hard and did he really want that to rub off on you? 
“I don’t mean to say you’re a bad person son, far from it,” Chucho had added, “But you’re different since you came back and there something in you that isn’t good for her, isn’t good for you.” 
He’d wanted to tell Chucho that he was sure you could help to heal him. That the sunshine and joy you exuded at every moment would be enough to take away the pain he was holding in, but it was too much to ask of you and he knew it. It wasn’t your job to fix his broken shell and he knew better than to ask. 
From that day forward he’d stopped going to town so much. He’d returned his last library book and not gone back and his appearance at church was now pretty much non-existent. Chucho had even stopped asking him to go into town for groceries, opting to do it himself.
He knew he couldn’t avoid you forever, but he’d hoped by pulling away that whatever attachment you’d both formed to each other would dissipate. How wrong he had been. 
***
The end of summer had arrived, soon it would be harvesting time and then Christmas would soon follow but not until the community came together for the end of summer cookout. Javier had thought about not going but Chucho had insisted. Said people had been asking after him and that he needed to show his face to prove he was still alive if nothing else. 
It was warm and he was sipping a beer when he spotted you, stood with a group of your friends with a can of soda in your hand. You’d waved at him when your eyes met, and he’d lifted his bottle in acknowledgement before going back to the conversation he had found himself wound up in with his father and another rancher about the types of feed they were giving to their cattle. 
It wasn’t until later that evening when he was fishing around the barrel for another beer that you appeared next to him. 
“You’ve been avoiding me.” You’d said bluntly. 
“I haven’t, I’ve just been busy.”
“Right, okay,” He knew you could see right through him, “You’ve definitely been avoiding me.” 
“Yeah, okay, I’ve been avoiding you.” He finally admitted. 
“Why?” You’d asked. 
God why were you so different? Any other woman he’d spent time with would have taken the hint and left, but not you. You wanted your explanation, seemingly unfazed with what it would be. 
“Just seemed like the right thing to do.” He shrugged. 
For some reason he’d expected you to be upset but you’d mirrored his shrug, seemingly accepting the stupid excuse for an explanation. He went to turn but felt your hand grab him, squeezing it before turning and walking away, revealing that you’d left a small scrap of paper in his palm. 
He looked closely at it and found an address scrawled on it. He knew exactly where it was. The address for the park just outside of town. He knew because when he’d been here at school it was where all the teenage couples had gone to have privacy from prying eyes. There was a big tree at the end of the park which had famously been the place many of his classmates, including him had lost their virginity. Next to the address, the words 9pm tonight. Were scrawled next to it. He shouldn’t go, he really shouldn’t, but then when has Javier ever listened to logic? 
***
You were already there when he arrived in his truck, leant against the tree waiting for him. He cut the truck off and switched his headlights off, grateful that the sun was still setting, giving you both enough light to see each other. 
“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” You admitted as he walked to you. 
“I considered not coming.” Was his own admission. 
“Why did you?” Came the next question. 
“Probably something to do with leaving my moral compass at the airport when I arrived in Colombia and never going back for it.” 
“Lucky Colombia,” You mused, “I’d like to see what that actually means.” 
“Hermosa,” He groaned, “You can’t do this to me.” But he was stepping towards you instead of stepping away. 
“It’s actually all your fault Javier,” You smirked, moulding yourself into the tree further as he stepped towards you, “If you hadn’t talked to me about mango ice cream or joined the library just to sit in silence with me and read we’d both be fine,” You looked up at him through your eyelashes as he came to stop right in front of you – the slightest movement and he’d be pressed up against you, “Now all you need to do is kiss me.” 
“I shouldn't allow myself to get this close to you.” He spoke, mostly to himself than anything else. 
“Say you want me and I’m yours, Javi.” 
If he wasn’t already damned to hell he was now. His lips were on yours in the blink of an eye, hands cupping either side of your face as you opened your mouth for him, letting his tongue into your mouth as you groaned. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed your body against his and he let out a similar noise to you, moving his hands from your face to the swell of your ass through your dress to pull you as close to him as he possibly could. 
You pulled away from his mouth, pushing him back slightly to lean back against the tree. He watched with fire in his eyes as you pulled up the skirt of your dress, revealing to him that you were bare under your dress. 
He fell to his knees in front of you, not caring about the dust and dirt his jeans would inevitably pick up, “Querida, eres el diablo.” He’d spoken before placing his hands at your hips, watching you shuffle your feet apart. 
His mouth was like white hot heat when it touched your pussy. All those nights spent in your room touching yourself over what it would feel like for Javier to finally touch you were over, and it was better than you ever could have hoped. His tongue was quick and precise, finding your clit and homing in on it in seconds, switching between quick flicks and circles to taking it into his mouth and sucking. Your head was thrown back against the tree in pleasure, your hand threaded into his hair to keep his mouth exactly where you needed it. Within minutes you were cumming on his tongue with his name falling from your lips in a moan. 
Your chest was heaving in an attempt to catch your breath when Javi rose from his knees in front of you. He sealed his mouth back to yours, letting his tongue tangle with yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You took hold of his belt loops and pulled him towards you, making light work of undoing the button on his jeans and taking the zip down before he took over, pushing them and his underwear down to pool at his ankles as he lifted you up to wrap your legs around his hips. 
“This isn’t… I mean, sorry this is going to sound weird, but this isn’t your first time, right?” Javier spoke, his cock nudging at your weeping entrance whilst he had you pressed against the tree with your legs wrapped around him. 
You threw your head back in a laugh, of course he’d ask that right now as his cock was almost inside of you, “Javier, I’m just from a religious family, I’m not a nun,” You shifted your hips as an invitation, “Now please for the love of God, put your cock inside me.” 
He did exactly as you’d asked, sheathing his cock in your pussy in one straight motion that had you crying out his name into the ever-darkening night. If you’d have asked Javi if when he pictured the first time, he fucked you it would have been up against a tree, completely bare with nothing but the birds to keep you company he’d have laughed. A girl like you deserved a bed, being fucked by candlelight after he tipped you over the edge with his fingers, then his mouth and then both together before slipping inside of you. He couldn’t say he was complaining though. 
Your tight pussy was clenching around him as he thrusted into you, his hand at the swell of your ass to keep you upright. The moans falling from your lips were scandalous and anytime you mixed his name into them he thought he would lose it. You’d begged him to go harder and faster and then begged him to kiss your neck. At one point the straps of your dress fell from your shoulders which in turn made the material fall away from your chest and his lip had latched onto your nipple before you even knew what was happening. 
“Hermosa, I’m gonna cum, you need to tell me where you want me.” 
“Let me go.” You breathed out. 
He did, letting himself slip from your delicious wet heat before setting your feet on the ground. He was almost disappointed until he watched you drop to your knees in front of him and open your mouth.
“Maldito infierno.” Javi whispered to the sky, before locking his eyes with your own as he pumped his cock with his fist. 
It took no time at all for him to let out a low groan and cum on your tongue. He’d done his best to make sure it landed in your mouth but his cum painted your cheeks and your chin by the time he was done. His eyes never left yours as he watched you swallow what he’d giving you in your mouth and then watched as your fingers scooped what was left on the rest of your face, devouring that too. 
Maybe you hadn’t been the innocent little thing he’d thought you were after all. 
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qrrieterisunnq · 6 months ago
Note
Hiii! Can I request John Marino and the song Guilty conscience🫶🏻
Thank you for requesting nonnie! Hope you will like it!
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You don’t know if you should believe him or not.
You want to believe him even after what he did, but, it’s hard to take the rest of your trust and give it to him when he can break it so easily as he did last time.
You should have seen the signs. The way he would always take his phone with him wherever he was going. How he got mad when you wanted to read him the message that just came, but he shouted at you, that it’s none of your business. That you stopped having sex so often. Or how he kept checking out every girl, that walked past him.
You were so naive and had such trust in him, that he would never cheat on you, yet he did it even after he reassured you, he would never.
But here you are, a year after you found out he cheated on you, and you start seeing the exact same signs you had a year ago.
This time, you won’t forgive him.
“John,” you say calmly waiting for him to look up at you from his phone. “We’re done.” Your voice is stern and calm, your face holding no emotions.
“W—What do you mean, we’re done?” his voice is shaky, and his eyes are roaming your face. He puts down his phone, and walks over to you, kneeling in front of you.
“We are done,” you shrug your shoulders, looking away from him, to take a deep breath in. “I know you’re cheating on me, again.”
“Wh-what? N-no I’m not!” he shakes his head rapidly, his hands finding their way to your thighs. Before they can touch your skin, you push him away standing up from your sitting position.
“Don’t lie to me and yourself, okay? I know the look on your face you have when you are texting with someone or looking at some photo.” You look at him shaking your head. You walk in the hallway taking on your coat and boots.
“Where are you going?” he looks at you, eyes wide tears glistening in them.
“I’m gonna stay at Nico and Jenny for the night. Then in the morning, I’ll come and get my things. I’ll send you the rent for this month and I will also arrange the contract with the housekeeper.” You say the last thing before you close the door behind you as you make your way into the elevator. As the doors close after you, your shaky hands pull out your phone dialing Nico's number.
“’Sup Y/n?” his thick Swiss accent rings through the phone.
“Could you please pick me up? And can I…Can I uhm stay a while at yours?” you let out, your voice shaky, tears now welling up in your eyes, as you tried to hold them in the whole time you were speaking with John.
“Yeah, yeah, sure. I’m on my way!” he says, not even asking what happened. You can hear some noise before he ends the call.
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headfullofpresley · 2 years ago
Text
Mommy's Kissing Santa Claus
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Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader
Summary: Caroline considers Santa to be her own personal superhero, but she isn't too happy about catching him kissing you. Because no matter what, her Daddy will always be number one.
Word count: 5,5K
Warning(s): fluff, domestic life, Caroline being sad/angry, Elvis dressing up as Santa, smut; just a quick morning quickie that isn't too detailed tbh, roleplaying (kinda.. lol).
Author's note: this was requested a while ago by anon, so nonnie, i hope this finds its way back to ya! enjoy luvs <3
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“I saw Mommy kissin’ Santa Claus underneath the mistletoe last night. She didn’t see me creep down the stairs to have a peep; she thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom, fast asleep. Then I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus underneath his beard so snowy white. Oh what a laugh it would’ve been if Daddy had only seen, Mommy kissin’ Santa Claus last night.”
Five year old Caroline adored Christmas. The decorations, the songs, the movies, the presents… but especially, Santa Claus. The bearded man that she believed flew across the world in his sleigh in the span of one night was a God to her.
While most children would weep upon the sight of a strange man in a red suit and a long white beard, Caroline was over the moon every single year. Even as a baby and before she could even speak a word, she would giggle and run up to whoever was dressed up as the man as soon as she could walk – or waddle.
She had no idea it was usually her grandfather or The Colonel who’d pay her a quick visit during Christmas day.
Caroline was the definition of a true Daddy’s girl, but Santa came pretty darn close to stealing Elvis’ spot during the month of December.
“Daddy, that’s wrong! Santa doesn’t have a green hat!” the tiny blonde giggled as she sat on top of the kitchen counter, looking at the freshly baked Christmas cookies her and Elvis spend their time on this afternoon. He purposely colored the hat of the Santa shaped cookie green, because he knew those little hawk eyes of hers would notice immediately.
“Maybe he does this year, honey,” he smirked at his daughter, licking some icing off his finger as he watched her laugh at him before shaking her head and returning her attention back on the tray of cookies. She squeezed a tiny dot of brown coloring gel on one of the reindeers, swinging her legs back and forth happily.
The red boots that she begged you to wear this morning were still on her feet, hitting the kitchen cabinets softly with her movements.
“You’re funny, Daddy.. but these cookies have to be perfect!” she told him with a stern voice. “What if Santa thinks we’re makin’ fun of him and won’t eat them? Mommy says sending letters to the North Pole takes a very long time,”
Elvis was often mesmerized by his daughter. Not only because she reminded him so much of both you and him, but also because she often spoke like she was much older. He figured it was probably because she spend so much time around adults when she wasn’t in school and she’d pick up anything she would hear.
Sometimes it caused for very funny conversations with her and sometimes she’d just embarrass Elvis and you when she had overheard the both of you talk about something or someone that was not meant to ever leave the four walls of this house.
Luckily, it had never been anything too serious.
“If Santa don’t like ‘em, I will deliver all those little apology letters of yours to him myself,” Elvis chuckled as he put the cookie he was working on on a Christmas decorative plate that had been hidden in the back of one of the cabinets. “But he will love your cookies. I bet he can’t get ‘nough of ‘em. Have you seen that fella’s tummy?”
Caroline looked up at him with wide eyes, taking the cookie with the green hat and shoving it into his hand. “Don’t be mean to Santa, Daddy, or you won’t get a present!”
He let out a hearty laugh, biting off the hat of the cookie as he squeezed her toes through her boots, making her squeal as she giggled and stuck her tongue out to him.
When all cookies were drawn on and she was satisfied with them, she took the plate Elvis handed her after he put her down on the ground and walked toward the staircase in the foyer. You had put a small table and a dining room chair right next to the stairs especially for Santa, your daughter unaware that you’d move the furniture back as soon as she was asleep and the cookies were eaten by you and her father.
“I need to get my drawing!” she told Elvis as she put the plate down and climbed up the stairs to get whatever she made for Santa to put it down with the cookies.
As she disappeared into her bedroom, you entered the house with shopping bags clinging in your hands and snowflakes covering your hair. You let out a huff as you closed the door behind you with your elbow, wiggling the cold and red tip of your nose.
“Next year I am back on baking duty,” you told your husband, trying not to crack a smile as he laughed at you and made his way over to you, taking the bags from your hands.
Usually, he would be the one doing the last minute shopping or have the things you needed to be delivered to the house but Caroline insisted he would stay home today and bake those cookies with her. All you really needed were some small presents for Vernon and Dee and some last minute groceries for tomorrow’s dinner.
You gave Mary the week off so she could spend time with her family during the holidays and you could provide a feast for yours.
“Sorry darlin’, can’t help it that she loves her Daddy more,” Elvis grinned as he took the presents out of the bags and put them underneath the tree in the living area before Caroline came back down. “If it makes ya feel any better, she got mad at me for talkin’ shit about her hero of the year,”
You didn’t miss the roll of his eyes and laughed, pulling the scarf you were wearing from around your neck. “She does not love you more, you’re just easier to manipulate,” you grinned teasingly at him, letting him take the grocery bags from you as well as he wandered back to you. “And she loves Santa more than you,”
You weren’t bothered by the fact that your daughter was a Daddy’s girl because when he’d be away from home and on the road, she would always stick to your side like glue. Elvis on the other side wasn’t so unbothered, hating that Caroline would not stop talking about Santa, Santa, Santa.
You loved to tease him with it.
“She loves that fool more than both of us,” he stuck his tongue out to you, walking into the kitchen to unpack the groceries and put them away. He chuckled softly to himself at the sound of your laugh and Caroline thundering down the stairs, running into your arms as soon as she saw you.
“Mommy, look! I made this for Santa to put with the cookies me and Daddy made,” she shoved the drawing in your face as you carried her toward the little nook you had created for Santa Claus himself.
“Wow Care, that’s beautiful! He will love it, baby,” you smiled at her, kissing her cheek as you placed her down so she could neatly place the drawing she made on the table, next to the plate of decorated cookies. The drawing consisted of three stick figures – you and Elvis being the taller ones and her being the small one in the middle.
Ofcourse, she had drawn Santa as well, only he was in an array of red crayon. You could only really recognize who it was by the white beard she managed to get quite accurate. It was cute.
“Did you buy enough milk, Mommy? He will be a lot thirsty,”
“Very thirsty, not a lot, baby,” you corrected her with a soft laugh, kneeling down next to her to look at the cookies. You could see which ones were decorated by her and which ones by Elvis. It didn’t really matter, they’d taste the same to you. “But yes, I have plenty of milk. We’ll pour him a glass before you go to bed, okay?”
“Two glasses?”
“If you’re a big girl and eat all of your veggies tonight, we’ll give him three!” you told her and she smiled excitedly, wrapping her arms around your neck as she leaned into you.
You were pretty sure she would definitely not eat all of her vegetables–she was her father’s daughter, after all–but you’d give her what she wanted and put three glasses of milk ready for Santa, anyways.
You found it hard to tell her no, because she was such a sweet girl.
She was your entire world.
 
Caroline surprised both you and Elvis as she shoved every single vegetable on her plate in her little mouth. It took her a while to chew everything down and she was the last to finish, but she couldn’t disappoint Santa, could she?
After sliding down chimneys all night, he must be extremely hungry and thirsty and she worked hard for those three glasses of milk.
You let them both go upstairs after dinner so Elvis could give her a bath and put her in her pyjamas as you cleaned the table and did the dishes.
Besides Mary, you basically gave everyone time off because you wanted to spend Christmas Eve with just your husband and daughter. Tomorrow the family and some of the guys would come over and the house will be rowdy again, so you were excited for the relaxing and quiet night you had planned.
You quite enjoyed yourself in the kitchen, cleaning and listening to the background noise that was the TV in the dining room.
 
You turned the TV off as you were done in the kitchen and heard Elvis and Caroline coming down the stairs. After getting some drinks, you followed them into the TV room and got ready for the movie Caroline had recently become obsessed with.
Scrooge.
She watched it with Dee’s sons a month ago and then made you and Elvis watch it with her again.
And again, and again, and again.
Neither of you could say no to her, even though you couldn’t care less about this movie.
Caroline snuggled in between you and Elvis, leaning into his side as her legs rested on your lap. She’d speak up now and then to point out a part in the movie that she liked and wanted you to pay attention to. But she had been running around all day, playing in the snow, helping Daddy feed the horses, baking cookies – she was tired, so tired that she couldn’t keep her eyes from fluttering shut despite loving the movie so much.
“Mommy!” she gasped softly as she shocked awake due to a loud noise from the TV, looking at you with wide eyes. “If I fall a-asleep.. wake me up, okay? I-I can’t miss.. Santa..” she mumbled, laying her head on Elvis’ chest as she pulled her legs in, holding onto his shirt with her tiny hand.
She didn’t seem to believe you when you told her that you would and looked up at her father. “Daddy, don’t forget, okay?!” she urged him, her voice thick with exhaustion and though her eyes were heavy, she wouldn’t put her head back down unless she got confirmation.
Elvis laughed softly as he looked at her, kissing her forehead. “I promise, yittle. Put your little head down,” he whispered to her, gently pushing her head back down on his chest as he tickled his fingers through her hair.
It didn’t take her long to drift off into a deep slumber.
You and Elvis didn’t wake her up, deciding that she needed all the sleep she could get for Christmas day tomorrow. She probably wouldn’t be too happy about it once she’d wake up and realise it was the next day, but she’d forgive you for it later. Especially when she’d see the presents she got from you and Elvis, her innocent little mind believing that they were from Santa himself.
 
“I’ll get her to bed,” you whispered as the movie ended which you and Elvis had talked your whole way through. Too comfortable on the couch to turn the TV off and move into the living room, plus Caroline looked too cute sleeping and you didn’t want to wake her. But it was getting late and you and your husband could use some rest as well.
“I’ll be upstairs,” he told you as you picked up Caroline in your arms, kissing your lips as he silently followed you up the stairs. You walked up the main staircase as Elvis made his way to the living room.
Thankfully, Caroline didn’t wake up when you carried her up the stairs and put her to bed. She mumbled something in her sleep and fuzzed in the sheets a little, but she went back to snoring softly before you left the room. You took the opportunity to clean up some of her toys that were scathered around the room and put the clothes away she wore today that Elvis put on her chair.
When you closed the door behind you afterwards and walked down the stairs, you frowned as Elvis was nowhere to be seen. The TV in both the dining and music room were turned off. The house felt empty.
“El? Baby?” you called out softly, looking around as you reached the bottom of the stairs.
Once he cleared his throat and you turned around, you saw him sitting in the Santa nook, cookie in hand and clothed in the Santa suit his dad or manager usually wore. You figured he must’ve put something around his waist, because he filled out the costume that would otherwise be too big for him.
“Merry Christmas to you, madame,” he grinned as he put the cookie down, slapping his hand on his thigh. You pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh as you walked over to him and sat down on his lap, slipping your arm around his shoulder. “Are these cookies for me, pretty lady?”
You cleared your throat a little, a soft giggle escaping your throat nonetheless. He had never dressed up as Santa for Caroline, both of you afraid that she would recognize him instantly.
You thought he looked ridiculous, but the way his voice deepened as he spoke to mimick a Santa like voice and his blue eyes were pretty much undressing you the second he saw you, you couldn’t help but feel a tingle run down your spine.
“They certainly are, mr. Claus. My daughter and husband made them especially for you,” you grinned, placing your hand on his stomach. Or rather the pillow you realised he had put in the costume.
“Your husband, you say?” he hummed, picking up the cookie once more as he took a bite of it now. “Isn’t he a lucky man to have such a beautiful little thing runnin’ around the place,” he put the cookie in front of your lips, his hand finding your ass as his arm was resting around your waist.
You feigned a gasp, gently pushing his hand away from your face as you looked at him. “My, mr. Claus. You’re very handsy, aren’t you? What would my husband think?”
“Well honey, your husband ain’t here, is he?”
He dropped the half eaten cookie back on the plate, wiping some crumbs off his fingers with the napkin you had put next to the plate earlier today. His palm squeezed your ass softly, pushing you firmly against his chest as your hand traveled over the hill of his fake belly and over his chest to wrap it around his neck.
“Now tell me, mrs. Presley. Have you been naughty or nice?”
His words made you want to rip that white beard he was sporting off his face and shut him up with a kiss. You didn’t feel awkward anymore at his little act–not when he was looking at you like that while his palm was shamelessly massaging your ass–and rather felt arousal seeping into your being.
Roleplaying wasn���t rare for you and Elvis, but you never thought him being dressed up as Santa Claus would get you as turned on as it did.
“I’m always very nice,” you told him as you laced your fingers together behind his neck, plastering your most innocent smile on your face. “But I can definitely be naughty too, mr. Claus,”
“Why don’t you show me how naughty you can be, darlin’?” his hand was quick as it reached up to his face, pulling the beard down before he leaned in to you. You giggled softly, gently swatting his hand away before you put the beard back in its place, kissing him.
He laughed softly against your lips but didn’t question you on it, instead fully trapping you against him as he wrapped his other arm around you as well, deepening the kiss.
 
Caroline shot up in her bed as soon as she awoke out of her sleep not even twenty minutes after you put her to bed. The little Presley girl didn’t think twice to hop out of her bed and walk over to the window, pouting heavily when she realised it was still night time and she was not downstairs waiting for her beloved Santa Claus right now.
You and Elvis promised to wake her and she felt betrayed that you hadn’t.
She had no idea what time it was and if you were still awake, but she figured getting caught would be worth the risk. Tiptoeing to her door, she slowly opened it and shuffled to the top of the stairs – when she saw that the only light that illuminated the foyer came from the Christmas tree, she very slowly and quietly stepped down a few steps.
Not wanting to scare Santa if he was already here, she peeked over the bannister of the stairs and widened her eyes as she saw the white bearded man with his signature red hat and suit sitting in the seat you and her had provided for him. She would’ve thundered down the stairs if it wasn’t for you sitting in his lap, lips pressed against those of her hero.
The one who provided her with the toys she wanted every year, the one who paid her a visit every Christmas day.
She loved him, but he was not her father.
Only Daddy was allowed to kiss you on the lips, not Santa Claus. Not nobody else.
Tears stung in her blue eyes as she grabbed onto the bars of the bannister, watching the kiss for a few seconds before she ran back up the stairs and hid underneath her blankets, silently crying herself to sleep.
You and Elvis were too occupied to hear Caroline coming up and down the stairs and as you tugged him up from the seat to take him into your shared bedroom, he quickly stole the plate of cookies along with him.
 
You and Elvis woke up early the next morning despite that Santa costume keeping you both awake until the dead of the night. You expected Caroline to stand at the side of your bed by now seeing it was already 8 o’clock because she could never wait until she was allowed to unwrap her presents. This morning, the bedroom was silent aside from Elvis’ soft snoring.
You sat up in the bed and looked at your husband, laughing softly as you took the Santa hat that was clutched in his hand, throwing it onto the floor. You leaned over to him and planted soft kisses on his shoulder and up to his face. He groaned softly as you woke him, his limbs stretching out in front of him before he turned to you and wrapped his arm around your waist, forcing you to lay back down next to him.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” you whispered with a soft laugh as he hid his face in your neck, squeezing you in his embrace.
“Mwerry Chwistmas, little one,” he hummed sleepily against your skin before he kissed your neck, the faint hint of your perfume that lingered in your neck making him roll onto his back, taking you right with him.
“We don’t get a lot of Christmas mornings like this one,” he mumbled as he grinned, his hands running up your thighs to squeeze at your hips.
He was right, you didn’t. You’d either be woken up by Caroline or by the doorbell that announced the arrival of today’s company. You told them to come a little later this year, so you and your family had time to actually eat breakfast and get ready for the day.
Now that you and Elvis had a bit of time for yourselves, he didn’t hesitate to take advantage of it.
His eyes caught sight of the Santa hat on the floor and he was quick to grab it before returning to his warm spot on the bed with you atop of him. “You had a lot of time with mr. Claus last night, it’s only fair if I get some sweetness from mrs. Claus,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he held out the hat to you.
You laughed and rolled your eyes, grasping it from his hand as you put it crookedly on top of your head. He bit his lip and moved his hands up your sides, slipping toward your front to squeeze your bare breasts in the palm of his hand.
Neither of you bothered to put on clothes before you fell asleep last night, so he didn’t need to wait for you to peel off pieces of fabric for you to raise your hips and sink down onto him.
He groaned as he moved his hands underneath his head, watching you ride him with a cocky smirk on his face.
“You look so sexy, baby,” he mummered as his eyes wandered down from your face to your bouncing breasts, voice sounding hoarse as it was still heavy with sleep. It only motivated you to go faster.
The idea of Caroline wandering into the room any minute was also on your mind, but Elvis didn’t mind you chasing your climax with slight hurry. He decided to help you get there even faster, reaching one hand down to circle your clit rapidly with his thumb.
The both of you had to bite down on your tongues to not moan too loud and while Elvis loved hearing you make those pretty sounds for him, he knew he could not make you truly scream while Caroline was also in the house.
Luckily for him, she had a sleepover planned at his father’s house next week.
Thanks to Elvis’ digit, you were quick to reach your climax and he followed not long after because of how visciously you were clenching around him.
“We should.. should check on Care,” you breathed as you ripped the fluffy hat off your head, throwing it across the bed before you leaned down and kissed your husband, who mumbled a soft agreement against your lips but made no movements to leave the warmth of the bed.
 
Caroline had been up before you and Elvis, but instead of walking into your room to tug on your blankets until either you or Elvis woke up, she went straight to the living room.
She was a girl on a mission today and it wasn’t a very fun one.
She was angry – at you, at Santa, and even a little bit at Elvis.
The little girl was still in disbelief of what she had seen last night. She just couldn’t wrap her little head around the fact that you kissed someone that was not Daddy and that Santa kissed you back.
And where was her Daddy while you exchanged smooches with her hero? He should’ve been there to stop it. Maybe even kick Santa’s ass a little.
She wandered over to the Christmas tree, taking the ornaments out one by one. Santa Claus didn’t deserve a nice tree anymore – if he would come by the house today, she would show him that she was angry with him.
Once you and Elvis came down the stairs and saw the bottom of the tree empty from its usual ornaments and Caroline gathering the sparkly garlands in her arms, you widened your eyes.
“Caroline, what is this?!” you exclaimed in confusion as you walked over to her to lift her up your hip. She crossed her arms firmly against her chest, the garlands crunching in her arms as she turned away from you with an angry expression taking over her features. “Caroline, I’m talkin’ to you,”
“I don’t want to talk to you!” she huffed as she stared at the chair by the stairs Santa had sat on last night.
“Caroline Mae Presley, don’t talk to your mother like that,” Elvis warned her as he stood next to you, looking at his daughter. But she didn’t look at him, hanging back in your arms so she’d be heavier for you to hold. “You know you’re not allowed to go downstairs before waking us. Why did you dissect the tree?”
She didn’t want to tell him or you how she was feeling, but she had a weakness for Elvis and she felt sad for him. He didn’t know what happened last night – while she was still young, she knew it was a bad thing. A bad thing that would hurt her precious father.
“I’m mad,” she mumbled and you allowed Elvis to take her out of your arms, walking over to the couch to sit down on it with her in his lap. She unfolded her arms and looked at her hands as you took the garlands out of her arms to put them back in their place.
“Yittle, if you’re mad, you come talk to Mommy or me. What does my tree have to do with anythin’, huh?” he grinned playfully at her as he tickled her sides. Usually, she would giggle and cheer up, but this time she pouted and pushed his big hand off.
“I’m mad.. m-mad.. at Santa,” she whispered, touching the small charm bracelet you gifted her for her last birthday that she never wanted to take off.
“Why, baby? Santa brought you a lot of presents,” Elvis told her as he nodded his head over to you. You smiled at your daughter as she finally looked up and you nodded, holding up a few wrapped presents Elvis put under the tree last night as you were putting Caroline to bed.
It looked like a smile was about to break the angry act she was putting on, but she huffed and looked down again. “I’m mad at Mommy too,”
You raised your eyebrows in confusion as you put the presents back under the tree, getting up to walk over to the couch. You sat down next to Elvis and looked at the pouty blonde in his lap, taking her small hands in yours. She pulled them out of your grip immediately, looking away.
Elvis saw the hurt in your eyes and sighed deeply, knowing playing nice would get him nowhere with his headstrong daughter.
He had finally met his match – it was more exhausting than he ever expected.
“Caroline, don’t be like that to your mother and tell us why you’re so mad. We don’t know what’s goin’ on if you don’t use your words,” he bounced his leg she was sitting on once, making her look at him with a glare.
Her face expressions softened a little when she saw both you and him looking at her so seriously and she couldn’t stop her bottomlip from twitching, her emotions getting the best of her. As soon as tears started welling up in her eyes, she pressed her face in Elvis’ chest and grabbed onto the shirt he was wearing.
“You and Mommy don’t love each other anymore,” she cried, her words coming out muffled. Elvis gently grabbed her shoulders, trying to pull her off him so she could speak more clearly but she managed to wrap her arms around his neck, clinging onto him. “And it’s all Santa’s fault,”
You exchanged a look with Elvis and frowned, running your hand through your daughter’s hair. “Honey, what are you talking about?”
Upon the sound of your voice, she pulled away from Elvis and looked at you, tears freely rolling down her cheeks.
“Oh Mommy, please don’t leave Daddy all alone!” she cried as she stretched her arms out to you. She had been so angry with you only minutes ago, but the thought of you leaving and running off to the North Pole with Santa Claus broke her little heart. You immediately took her in your arms and caressed her hair out of her face, wiping her tears away. “Don’t leave me and Daddy!”
“Care, how’d you get that idea? Baby, I’m not leaving you and Daddy,” you told her, kissing her forehead before she wrapped her arms around your neck and hugged you tightly.
“But last n-night.. you.. you.. were k-kissing.. S-Santa..” she hiccuped over your shoulder, squeezing you tightly in her little arms as if she was afraid you’d disappear into thin air. “You are in l-love with Santa C-Clause,”
You looked at Elvis and he widened his eyes, letting out a hearty laugh as he leaned back in the couch, throwing his head on the back rest of it. You gave him a warning glare but couldn’t stop yourself from giggling softly too, rubbing your hand up and down Caroline’s back soothingly as Elvis hid his mouth behind his hand to muffle his laughter.
“Care bear, look at me,” you chuckled softly as you grabbed her arms, pulling her out of your embrace so she’d look at you. Her hands rested on your shoulders as she sniffed, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “What you saw last night… was me hugging Santa…”
Elvis stopped laughing as he grinned cheekily, waiting for you to explain to your five year old what she had seen. You silently begged for help and he cleared his throat a little, scooting closer to you and Caroline. “Yittle, Mommy was comfortin’ Santa last night. You see, Daddy forgot to put his milk by the cookies last night and Santa was so sad, because he thought we had forgotten about him,” he explained to her as she looked at him, listening while repeating his words over and over again in her head.
“Yes! And I told him we definitely did not forget about him. He was also a little sad that you fell asleep, baby girl, so I gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek,”
She turned to you, her eyes still a little red as she sniffed once more. “Really?”
“Promise. Would we ever lie to you?” Elvis chimed in, smiling at her and she shook her head.
To her, you and Elvis were perfect and would never ever tell her a lie. Not a big one, nor a small one.
“No,” she whispered. “So you will stay with me and Daddy?”
You looked at her and laughed softly, nodding as you pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Yes baby, I’m going to stay with you and Daddy forever and ever,”
She smiled softly, nodding her head heavily as she seemed to buy the story you and Elvis told her. Honestly, it wasn’t a very good one, but the only thing you could come up with on the spot.
And for five year old Caroline, the story sounded solid.
“Okay,” she said, grabbing Elvis’ hand as she kept her other hand on your shoulder. “Daddy is more beautiful than Santa,”
Elvis grinned widely, raising his chin smugly. “That’s what I thought, honey,”
You rolled your eyes and laughed, rising from the couch with Caroline in your arms. “Now Santa, me and Daddy will appreciate it very much if you put the ornaments back in the tree. Let Daddy help you,” you grinned, kissing her temple before you put her back on her own two feet. She nodded and walked over to the tree, sitting on her knees as she did what you told her to.
Elvis slipped his arm around your waist, squeezing your ass as he pushed you against his chest. “Seems like we should keep the costume strictly for the bedroom, huh?”
“Definitely,” you laughed softly, kissing his chin. “Without the beard next time, though,”
“I didn’t hear ya complainin’ when I was in between your legs with it last night,” he whispered teasingly with a grin on his face, raising an eyebrow.
You playfully slapped his chest, laughing. “I was feelin’ festive, but Christmas is almost over, baby,”
“Not in this house,” he wiggled his eyebrows, leaning down to kiss you. The moment was interrupted sooner than he liked by Caroline who called out to him.
“Daddy, help me!” she yelled as she had managed to get herself twisted in a string of garland, looking at him with a goofy smile on her face.
“You truly are your mother’s child,” he laughed as he shot you a wink, walking over to his daughter to help her get out of the small trap she got herself into and to help her re-decorate the lower half of the tree.
You laughed as you watched them for a little bit before disappearing into the kitchen to start on breakfast.
In an hour or so, the house would be filled with family and friends again, disrupting the peaceful bubble you had been in since yesterday.
You didn’t mind it all that much, though. And as long as Caroline would have a good time, you didn’t care if the house was empty or full.
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crushedbyhyperbole · 8 months ago
Text
Before I Met Angels - Pt 1 - Then...
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus!Fem!Reader
Summary: Dean Winchester arrived on your doorstep with his cheap suit and the promise of a ghost-free future. Playing pretend love interest left you both with something a little more lingering than the ghost.
Words: 2.5k
A/N: This was born of a Nonny request for some oral smut and some insecurity/comfort (which is Part 2) but I couldn't not write the back story so here it is. I hope you enjoy.
Warnings: Canon-typical action/adventure, talk of ghosts and dead people, canon typical violence, profanity, some sexual tension, kissing, and a bit of softness.
***MINORS DO NOT ENTER OR INTERACT***
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Dean Winchester had been in your house for over two weeks now, having arrived on your doorstep with his brother Sam after a handful of men in your town had mysteriously died.  It had started a little over two years ago with your boyfriend, Danny, who had died of a heart attack moments before you were going to sleep together for the first time.  Six months ago, other men who you had started dating or who had asked you out started dying as well, their hearts exploded in their chests.
When Dean showed up, it was in a cheap suit and an FBI badge, and the promise of a future without whatever was plaguing you.  It quickly became apparent that he and Sam weren’t really FBI when they started laying lines of salt around your house and carrying your old fire poker or your cast iron skillet around with them.  With talk of ghosts and other supernatural things, you learned that the Winchester brothers were hunters of those things that went bump in the night, guardian angels, if you will, for all who were afflicted by such things.
“I’m no guardian angel, sweetheart.  I’ve met some of ‘em though.”  He replied when you said this to him.   “They’re assholes, lemme tell ya.”
You had laughed but the concept of angels existing wasn’t something you had been prepared for.  But really, how could you be prepared for any of this?
Over the course of the first few days, Dean and Sam staked out your house, taking readings with a strange whining piece of equipment that Sam explained read ghost energy.  The prognosis: your house was haunted, but the ghost remained elusive.
“Maybe it only goes after people I want to be romantic with?”  You fielded, after a discussion about the house’s history.  “You said yourselves that all of the people who died of that exploding heart thing had been people I’d been dating or about to date.”
“You could have a point,” Sam said thoughtfully.  “So we just need to replicate that scenario.”
“You saying I got to get frisky up in here?”  Dean quizzed and you blushed, feeling awkward about suggesting he do something he clearly wouldn’t enjoy.
“I mean, I could…”  Sam began to offer but Dean carried on talking.
“Alright, I got this.”  He nodded at you with a smirk that you couldn’t read at all.  “Let’s get this done.”
He decided that snuggling on the couch would be a good start and see if that prompted the ghost to appear.  The first day, nothing happened, but Dean came back every evening and tried again.  Each night he and Sam came back around sunset and you made them dinner.  Each night Dean would sit back on the sofa with his arm around you and you would snuggle into him as you watched TV; Dr Sexy was his favourite show.  Sam waited either in the car or in a room upstairs as if he was a guest.
Gradually you two settled into a routine where small gestures of affection began to creep into your behaviours:  Dean would stroke his hand down your back to settle on your hip as he passed you in the kitchen, and you would absently touch his forearm when you spoke to him.  It only took a couple of days, but you completely fell under his spell – fake though your interactions were supposed to be.
You couldn’t deny the attraction you felt for him, he was way beyond anything in your league but every time he touched you he lit a fire in you.  Every soft smile, every glance, every time he held you against him on the couch at night was fuel for that fire.  He seemed to enjoy your company but he was just doing his job, simply acting out a role to bring an end to the whole haunting thing.  The haunting thing that didn’t seem to be happening, or so you thought until last night.
Curled up on the couch with Dean for what was the twelfth night in a row, you had started to fall asleep with his arm draped around you, his fingers drawing abstract patterns on the skin of your arm.
“This doesn’t seem to be working,” he said after the re-run of Dr Sexy had finished.  “I think maybe we need to kick things up a gear.  Whadd’ya say?”
You didn’t know what he had in mind but you were a little drowsy and so far in over your head that you simply nodded, receiving a bright grin as a reply.
“You tell me to stop and I’ll stop, okay?”  He whispered into your ear, his lips brushing against you as he nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent just below your ear.  “Mmmm, you smell fantastic.”  He spoke at normal volume, clearly this was a show to get the ghost to present itself.
You sighed as he kissed your neck, and when his hand snuck under the hem of your top you stiffened, pushing a hand against his chest as if to stop him.
“Relax, sweetheart.  I’ll be good to you, I promise.”
You stroked his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath and wondered how his skin felt.  When your fingers slipped under his shirt and danced across his bare abs he inhaled sharply, pulling back from his attention on your neck to look at you.
There was a hunger there in his eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss you.  You sighed as his lips met yours, so deeply absorbed in how he made you feel that you didn’t realise the temperature in the room was falling.  His tongue slipped into your mouth and he cupped your face to kiss you properly.  You moaned deeply, succumbing to the heat pooling down in your core.  It was so easy to believe this was real.
“Atta girl,” he whispered when he pulled back.  “You’re doing so well.”
“I’ve never been kissed like that before.”  You practically mewled.
“Well I’m going to do it one more time and then I’m going to ask you to follow me, okay?”
Anywhere.  You nodded as he pulled you to your feet and cradled your face in his hands.  His second kiss was consuming but still slow and measured.  He stroked his hands down your sides and up under your shirt, stroking the skin of your waist and back, and pulling you tight against him.
“I wanna have you so bad,” he said, breathless, resting his forehead on yours but very aware of the changes in the room.  “To be continued….”  He whispered, leading you up the stairs to the guest room where Sam was hiding.
“Dean!”  Sam yelled.  “Hurry it up.”
“I know, Sammy!”  He yelled back.  “We’re on our way.”
The air was charged with static.  You could feel it bristling the hairs on your skin like a bad thunder storm about to happen.  Ahead of you on the stairs, you saw Dean’s rear as he led you quickly by the hand.  Glancing behind, you saw a glitchy shape of a man which bore the face of your dead boyfriend, Danny.
“Danny?”  You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.
“It’s the dead boyfriend!”  Dean said to Sam as you both crossed the salted threshold of the guest bedroom.
“I thought he was killed by the ghost first.”
“So did we.”  Sam said with a frown, looking at Dean in confusion.  “And he was cremated already so what the hell are we gonna do now?”
Dean turned you to face him, tearing your eyes away from the ghost that waited on the far side of the salt boundary.
“Do you have anything of his that could be tying him to this plane?  Lock of hair?  Blood stain somewhere maybe?”
“I don’t know,  Maybe.”  You wracked your brain for anything you had kept of his.  “He gave me a locket early on in our relationship that I never really wore, but after he died I couldn’t just throw it away.  He said it was a keepsake but it’s just got a photo of us in it.”
“That’s got to be it.”  Sam said.  “Where is it?”
“In my bedroom.  Jewellery box.”
“I’ll get it,” Sam rushed to the door, “he’s after Dean, not me.”
Once Sam crossed the salt with his iron fire poker, Danny’s ghost attacked.  It knocked Sam against the wall, hard, and sent him skidding back into the room.  The line of salt was broken and Danny’s ghost came for Dean.
“Goddamnit!  You need to get outa here” Dean said, brows raised, almost begging.
“But he’s going to kill you.”
Maybe if you could reason with Danny, he would just leave.  Maybe if you asked him to move on to wherever ghosts went, that he would see you were ok without him.
“He’s gonna try.”  Dean scooped up his shotgun, pumped it and stepped up beside you.
“Danny, please listen to me.”  You tried to reason with the spirit of your dead boyfriend.  “You don’t need to do this.  Please don’t do this.”
The ghost advanced, paying little heed to anyone except Dean.  His eyes, so filled with malice and hatred, never left the hunter.  For a second, you thought maybe you could stand between them and be safe but the closer the spectre got, the more you realised that he was too far gone.  Unreachable.
“Run!”  Dean pushed you aside and lifted the shotgun, aiming it right at Danny’s chest.
You backed up against the wall and skirted along it as Danny advanced on Dean.  You had to find the locket, but what were you supposed to do with it when you had it?
In your room, you fumbled with the clasp on your jewellry box, dropping the box on the floor.  Chains and earrings spilled out, jumbling up together, snagging into a knot as you tried to pull Danny’s locket free.
The booming sound of the shotgun was deafening.  It was so loud you felt it in your chest cavity and the shock of it made you feel dizzy.  Dean could be heard goading the ghost, taunting it to come and get him before the gun went off again.
In the doorway, Sam appeared looking a little worse for wear.  You held the jumble of gold and silver up to him, panicked that you couldn’t separate them.
“What do I do?”
“We have to burn it.”
“I can’t separate them.”
“Then we burn it all.”
Sam snatched up the metal trashcan and you dumped the twisted clump on top of the paper.  A generous squirt of fuel and a book of matches later and the whole can was ablaze.
Danny’s ghost appeared, in flame, moving towards you as if to claim you but Sam pulled you out of the way as the last of the flames consumed the spirit, leaving behind whisps of smoke.
Dean was sat on the floor of the guest room, bruised and bashed but very much alive.  He gave you a grateful smile and a nod as he got his breath back.  When he stood he hugged you, rubbing both of your arms to soothe you, and kissed the top of your head.
“I think we got him,” Dean said as he stood on your porch ready to head back to the motel for the night.  “But if it’s alright with you, I wanna do one more night to make sure we haven’t missed anything.  Tomorrow?”
You had thought you would never see him again once your haunting was taken care of, but when presented with an opportunity to spend one more evening cuddling Dean Winchester, how could you refuse.  The thought of being alone that night was overwhelming but you felt pathetic asking him and Sam to stay with you.
“I think that’s a good idea,” you smiled weakly, hoping you didn’t seem too needy or too eager to have his hands on you again.  When he had kissed you, it had made you burn with desire for him, and now you couldn’t let go of that heat.  The memory of ‘to be continued’ played whirligig in your stomach.
“Alright, sweetheart.  We’ll see you again tomorrow.”
Dean stepped off the porch and down into your yard before you crumbled under the weight of your emotions.
“Wait!”
He and Sam stopped and turned, Dean looking at you with worry, Sam with sympathy.
“Would you stay with me tonight?”  You felt embarrassed to ask, but the words were out now.  “I don’t want to be alone.”
Dean shuffled his feet, looking at Sam somewhat awkwardly before returning his gaze to you.  His smile was strained, as if he didn’t know how to let you down gently.
“Tell you what,” Sam cut the silence, “I’ve got some research to do anyway, and we missed a call from Jodie, so I’ll head back to the motel and I’ll swing back around tomorrow and pick you up.”
“Sounds like a plan.”  Dean patted Sam’s shoulder and followed you back into the house where you both settled on the couch as was your routine.
The sound of the TV blended into the background, secondary to the steady but quick thu-thump of your own heartbeat and the whoosh of your pulse in your ears.  The couch was soft beneath you, perfectly contrasting the firmness of the man you were partially wrapped around.
Dean looked down at you, catching you looking up at him from under your eyelashes.
“If you keep lookin’ at me that way, that ‘to be continued’ is gonna happen a lot sooner that you think.”  He said with a cocksure smirk.
You grinned, reaching up to slide your fingers over the stubble of his cheek, guiding him so you could lay your lips on his.
Dean sighed through his nose as he delved into your kiss, his arms slipping around you to hold you tight against him.
Whatever chemistry you two had generated over the past couple of weeks was sure to fizzle out once you’d both gotten it out of your systems.  Him acting like he was interested in you, all the affectionate touches he had coached himself to give during that time, the closeness you both had engineered over that time.  It was all bound to drain away, but in the meantime you closed your eyes and succumbed to the desire burning in your chest that told you to have him while you could.
And as Dean sunk himself into you on the soft couch with the TV playing Dr Sexy in the background, you didn’t care if it was just one time, you didn’t care if he would be gone tomorrow, or the next day.  As he sighed your name and made you feel amazing, you knew you would keep this memory forever.  The night you loved your guardian angel.
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