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#but both of them get so bad and silly as soon as they reach a buzzed state
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Drinking Buddies :)
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eigengrauone · 1 year
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grinds teeth. i am alone and dismissed
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xiaowhore · 8 months
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hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry!
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premise. in which you manage to make neuvillette feel better at the expense of your dignity. (a fair trade, really.)
word count. 1.5k
note. do umbrellas exist at teyvat. i really don't know.
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You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to dramatically brood in the rain when he gets sad, but to be fair, you don't know much about him at all.
You clutch onto your umbrella, contemplating. So, uh... Are you supposed to approach him now? Shield him from the rain with your umbrella? That doesn't sound too bad, actually. But then what? Ask him if his pet fish died and now he's mourning his loss? That's hardly appropriate to say to the Chief of Justice... But it would be creepier to just stand there without saying anything, right?
You could leave and pretend you didn't see anything. Of course, that's an option too. It's possible he prefers to be left alone when he's unhappy.
But sulking while standing in the rain just gives “I want someone's attention” vibes, doesn't it?!
With a fit of reckless courage and a “fuck it” mindset, you advance your way forward to where he stands.
Regretting something as soon as you do it is on-brand for you, you realize as you soon come to learn you have to be on the tip of your toes to have the umbrella barely raising over his head instead of hanging from him. You must make a pathetic sight, attempting to shield both yourself and this hulking tower of a man from the rain with a tiny umbrella.
“...What are you doing?” Neuvillette turns around, taken aback when you're in much closer proximity than he expected. Panic flares in his eyes, and like the gentleman that he is, he steps back to create some distance. His head presses against the edge of the umbrella.
“Hey, you shouldn't move away!” You follow his movements, closing the gap. His head is now safely within the umbrella's reach, but you're an inch away from being pressed up against his chest. “I miscalculated. This thing's too small for us.”
When the initial shock wears off, his shoulders slump, a sign of him lowering his guard. “If you know that much, you should use it for yourself and go home.”
That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Appealing, even. You've never felt so silly in your entire life and the option to run away is looking more enticing with each second that ticks by.
Still.
“It's dangerous to walk alone at this hour. Won't you accompany me, sir?”
...Not the best excuse you could've come up with, but your mouth runs faster than your brain. Neuvillette, being the considerate person he is, actually takes some time to think about it, and you hurry to say, “If you leave me alone now, you could have another disappearance case in your hands tomorrow. Would you really like more work on your desk rather than some company tonight?”
He gives you a long, suffering stare that looks suspiciously like the one he gives to Lady Furina when she disappoints him, but he doesn't say no. His hand wraps around the umbrella handle, overlapping with your fingers. It takes another two seconds of that stare before you get the message and you let go, finally able to rest the balls of your feet on the ground as you stand on normal footing.
“I hope you don't make a hobby of coercion,” he hums as you walk together, your shoulders brushing every so often. “Or else I'd see you as a criminal suspect tomorrow instead of a victim.”
“I see that jokes aren't your strong suit, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You laugh awkwardly, your nervousness spiking to an all-time high throughout your entire interaction with him. It's been barely ten minutes.
Silence ensues.
“Do you like showers, sir?”
You should've just kept your mouth shut, damn it.
“I like them the same amount as the average person, I suppose.” The ridiculous question doesn't phase him, and you don't know how he's able to keep a straight face while saying that.
You decide to push your luck. “...Do you prefer bathing with cold or hot water?”
Finally, you draw out a light chuckle from him, the sound deep and pleased. It almost makes playing the fool worth it. “I've been told I'm not the best with small talk, but you seem to be worse than I am.”
Your head snaps up to look at him, affronted. “It wasn't a bad question!”
“Certainly not as bad as talking about the weather. Do you want me to praise you?”
Was the Chief Justice always this sassy? “You're making fun of me,” you point out the obvious, turning away and crossing your arms. “I asked about showers because you were standing in the rain.”
“You thought I liked showers because I was in the rain?”
“Well, I didn't know for sure. That's why I asked.” Even you can tell you're sounding more and more ridiculous by the minute. Was your house always this far? You can't wait to dive to your bed and pretend this encounter never happened. “I think I'll just shut up now.”
“Really, now?”
“Every time I open my mouth around you, I embarrass myself further. I think it's for the best.”
You hear another chuckle as heat crawls up to your cheeks, spreading to your ears. “For what it's worth, you did put me out of my terrible mood. You're quite funny.”
“That's a nice way to say you think I'm being strange.” You hide your face with your hands, peeking at Neuvillette's expression between your fingers. Bathed in the silvery moonlight, he looks straight out of a painting, even with wet hair and drenched clothes.
You've never seen him up close, never even dreamed of standing next to him. Now, you're exchanging jabs at each other like it's the most normal thing in the world, like you weren't just thinking he was someone out of reach when you watched his court trial in amazement. Now, he's so close that you can almost feel the heat from his body, so much more tangible than just a figure you admired from afar.
“But I do have your strangeness to thank,” he admits, looking off into the distance. The stars shine bright in his eyes. “Had it not been for you squeezing me under your umbrella and forcing me to walk you home, I'd surely still be under the rain.”
“...Couldn't you have phrased that better?”
“In court, I only state facts.”
You laugh dryly. “You could spare me some dignity by embellishing the story a bit... Oh, we're here.” You were so occupied defending yourself from his witty comments that you didn't realize you had already arrived home until your door was right at your face. You glance at Neuvillette, who then nods towards the door. If he's disappointed to have the stroll cut short, he doesn't show it.
“Go in. It is rather late.” He closes the umbrella and offers it back to you, a gentle smile on his face. The sight is almost like a reward for your efforts; the small upturn of the corners of his lips makes all the difference, his sharp, cold gaze softening into something more affectionate. The rainbow after the storm. The gratitude for a small kindness.
“You have to get home, too,” you utter, pushing it back to him.
“The rain stopped a few minutes ago,” he insists, gesturing behind him. You blink owlishly, observing the still pools of rainwater. You didn't even notice. Why didn't he say so? You didn't have to squeeze together under such a tiny umbrella, then.
“You should still keep it.”
He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive. “Why?”
You unlock your door, stepping inside, but still not closing it shut. “Well, it gives you an incentive to see me again.” You grin at him mischievously, like you thought of a genius plan. “I work at the cafe in the main street. I'm sure we have some tea that will strike your fancy. Make sure you're not moping next time we meet, yeah?”
Not for the first time, he seems taken aback. But his gaze softens once more, his expression molding into something pleased. “Very well.”
And so, he leaves with a small umbrella in his hand, a smile on his lips, and the clear skies over his head.
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The next time you see Neuvillette, the sun is high in the sky. Compared to that night, you can see him a little better now.
That's how you notice he looks unusually shy with a bouquet of flowers in his arms and a pink blush high on his cheeks. “...Good afternoon,” he starts, his lips curving to a beginning of a smile. “The weather is great today, isn't it?”
You stare. You stare some more. And when the sight finally processes in your mind, your twinkling laughter rings in the air, as sweet as the aroma of freshly baked muffins. “And who stooped so low to talk about the weather this time, huh?”
Neuvillette can't even pretend to feel bad about it, not when you're jumping off the seat in the counter to show him a table for two. “Your silliness is infectious, it seems.”
“Hey!”
(You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to be smart-mouthed, the type to be indulgent to your whims, the type to be romantic towards the person he's interested in—
But now you have all the time in the world to get to know him better.)
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screampied · 24 days
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saying “goodnight,” to gojo is one of the worst things you could ever tell him.
some may ask why . . it’s a simple word, a sweet farewell of good dreams if you will. but in this case, perhaps not. just a simple word, a simple word that always knew how to bring the strongest to complete tears.
“goodnight, ‘toru.” you’d murmur, swiftly running your hands through his white tangled strands. he was struggling to keep his eyes open. the calmness of your voice soothed him. cerulean irises stared right back into you before he lets off a soft sigh. his face was so relaxed, he stares into your eyes with his own becoming a bit droopy.
“goodnight,” he’d utter before his eyes briefly closes. “i love you.”
is what you thought he’d say in a moment like this. but even sometimes, reality can be faux. life’s pretty funny, isn’t it.
gojo didn’t like the word ‘goodbye’ simply because it brought back too many hard memories.
he wasn’t one to really explain why, he was more resvered sometimes than anything. he was often too embarrassed to get things off his chest. especially things like this, you did always wonder why though. how sometimes you’d kiss him on the cheek, reaching for the light before uttering off those fatal words of, “goodnight, satoru.”
despite everything though, he always gives you a soft kiss on the lips, murmuring, “sleep well, angel,” instead of goodnight. he’d hold you in his arms, stroking you gently until you fell fast asleep into his arms, where you always belonged.
why was goodnight such an avoidance to gojo’s vocabulary. it was simple, really. a bad experience, a very bad experience actually.
“i don’t like seeing you cry like that,” he’d grumble in a merely defeated voice. he sounded so different, so tired, so … weak. gojo’s voice, it was once so full of life and oh so effervescent. and now, it sounded like he was clinging onto his last and final conclusive breaths—in which he was. “hey, hey. look at me.”
you’d sniffle, glancing at gojo. your eyes were merely blind with your own pathetic tears, everything you saw through your own lens of eyesight was straight blurry. that dumb dorky smile remained plastered on his face despite the circumstances.
the circumstances, gojo satoru had been finally defeated. the strongest, considered as once the strongest, was now lying in your arms, squeezing your wrist as if it’d be the last time he’d touch you. and it would be.
“don’t cry for me. you’re gonna make me cry, silly,” he whispers in a jesting tone, brushing a thumb against the outer part of your hand. you always loved his touch, there was nothing like it. gojo actually for once seemed scared, he was always so good at concealing his emotions—but with you, that was an entire different story.
you could hear the tremble in his voice, his time was rapidly running out, and he just wanted to reassure you, even though perhaps you should have been reassuring him.
“s-satoru,” you’d reply in a shaky voice, you felt an abrupt sharp sting prod through your heart.
you didn’t expect to come to contact with the feeling of heartbreak so soon, but it hit you like a truck. you hated feeling powerless, you couldn’t do anything but just sit here and . . hold his hand.
one … last … time.
“you’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and he lifts up your hand, struggling at first. you’re kneeled down beside him as he lies on the floor. a pool of his own defeat starting to fill from underneath him before he kisses the palm of your hand. “i… i want you to promise me something though. can you do that, angel?”
“y-yes,” you immediately reply, your grip on his hand only growing tighter. suddenly, the air felt so thick and warm—everything felt so out of place. your ears, both of them rang and rang. there was a sting in your heart and it refused to go away. you were experiencing heartbreak at its finest, in slow slow waves.
gojo inhales, and you watch as his pretty lashes flutter at least twice before he says in the most broken, defeated voice you’ve ever heard.
“promise me,” he starts, and you watched as a tear ran down the corner of his eye. even he knew what his fate was coming to, everything was catching up to him and you were sharing the exact dreading emotion. gojo’s eyes flicker up towards you before he sniffles. “promise me, promise me that you’ll be here when i wake up?”
silence—pure silence was your reply, you didn’t know what to say.
but that pure silence only lasted for about three seconds before you nodded, feeling your own tears start to trickle out the crevices of your eyes. “i promise, i’ll be here, i’m always here, ‘toru,” and with a sob nearly escaping your lips, you whimper out a, “i love you.”
“i love you,” he replies with a cheeky grin, and by now he’s really clinging onto his final breaths.
all gojo could focus on was your face, the tears that swelled up through your eyes. he hated seeing you cry, he truly loathed it. with your fingers interlocked with his, gojo says in a soft broken tone, “goodnight, baby.”
“… goodnight, ‘toru.”
but instead of waking up next to gojo like promised, you woke up alone with his side of the bed empty. then reality hit you, he was already gone.
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moonstruckme · 4 months
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hi lovely I was wondering if you could do a fic about a touch starved reader where she’s just really needy and wants to be held but is nervous to ask? and it’s just very fluffy and sweet, thank you so much!!
Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!
modern au
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
Sirius is cozied up between James’ legs on the couch, tuned into his phone while James watches the football match on TV, and you’re oozing a jealousy so tender it hurts. 
It’s silly, but you can’t help thinking about how warm they must both be. James has one of his forearms draped over Sirius’ chest, their hands linked casually, Sirius’ bony, pale fingers intertwined with James’ thicker ones. They look comfortable and at ease with each other in a way that feels so out of reach. You wish you could join them, but they look too happy like this. You couldn’t ask them to move. 
“Dove?” 
You blink, focussing back on Remus. “Sorry?” 
“I asked how your meeting went.” A bit of concern digs into the space between his brows as he continues stirring the pot of soup on the stove. You give him a little smile, and it melts away.��
“Oh, not bad at all.” Today you had your first team meeting at your new job. You’d been nervous leading up to it, worried your boss would ask you to introduce yourself or present something, but it had blown over smoothly. “I was stressed for nothing, I didn’t even have to talk.” 
“Mm, good for you.” Your boyfriend gives you a knowing look, well aware that your shyness can sometimes get in the way of you sharing your ideas. “I’m glad it went well. I hope you start to feel comfortable enough to talk soon, though.” 
“Maybe,” you say agreeably, moving closer to him to rest the side of your head on his bicep. It’s an awkward sort of lean, but the most you’ll allow yourself. 
You can sense Remus’ confusion even without him making a sound. You know that if you pulled back to look, you’d find a familiar little indent just above his nose. “Tired?” he asks. 
Your heart gives a pitiful throb. Remus isn’t the most tactile of your boyfriends, but it would take so little for him to reach up with his free hand, wrap it around your shoulders. That’s all you want. “No,” you reply, though you do sound tired, voice soft and breathy, “just love you.” 
“Sweetheart.” His voice is sticky with affection, and your heart balloons with hope. You feel his arm shift underneath you, then his hand comes up to hold your cheek, keeping you steady while Remus presses a brief kiss to the top of your head. The hand falls away. “I love you too.” 
It feels ungrateful and a bit traitorous to feel so dejected after hearing those words, but you do. You leave your head where it is, heavy with a loneliness that’s completely invalid, while Remus continues stirring the soup, humming now. 
“Look at them.” Sirius’ voice gets your attention from the living room, dripping with faux rancor. He’s glowering at you over the top of the couch. James begrudgingly turns from the match to look at him, half curious what he’s on about. “They’re being all ooey gooey in the kitchen without us, can you believe it?” 
You sort of want to laugh at the irony. 
“You were given the opportunity to join,” Remus reminds him mildly. “I said I needed help chopping, and only y/n came to my aid.” 
“Yes, well I didn’t know there’d be declarations of love involved,” says Sirius, never one to be made to feel guilty. 
James, on the other hand, looks a tad penitent. 
“I didn’t hear you,” he says helplessly, climbing out from under Sirius. “Do you still need an extra pair of hands?”
“No, almost done now,” Remus says, but James comes anyway. He peers over Remus’ other shoulder, pecking him apologetically on the cheek. 
“Smells great,” he notes appreciatively. He leans across Remus to see your face, grinning in that way of his that makes it seem like someone’s brought the sun inside. “Thanks for taking up the mantle.” 
You make a quiet sound of amusement, and James’ smile fades. You hate yourself for doing it to him, even though it wasn’t intentional.
“You alright, lovie?” He scrutinizes your expression, and you’re reminded that James is often more perceptive than you give him credit for. “You look a bit sad.” 
“No, I’m good.” You give him a smile. Remus’ shoulder shifts under your head as he looks down, trying to see you. 
James appears unconvinced. He moves behind Remus, over to where you stand. “Hug?” he offers. 
God, you feel like you could cry. That wouldn’t be good. “Sure,” you say as if it isn’t the deepest, most desperate desire of your heart. 
You turn into his arms, and he wastes no time in enveloping you. James gives the best hugs. Somehow, intuitively, he always knows just the amount of pressure you need, when to squeeze your back and when to rub it, exactly the right time to let go. It feels like he’s pouring love into you through his touch. He sets his chin on top of your head, and you swallow a happy sigh. 
“I know something’s bothering you,” he says quietly. He sweeps a hand up and down your spine, and you shiver, pressing your palms into his back. He does it again. “Talk to me, honey.” 
“I’m good,” you promise him. It’s a lot more truthful now. 
Still, you can feel James’ dissatisfaction. He cups the back of your neck, thumb brushing the baby hairs at your nape. “Anything I can do?” 
You clutch him to you, the fabric of his sweatshirt bunching in your hands. It smells like laundry detergent. “Just this, please.” 
“Aww,” Sirius croons, and it’s not until then that you realize the other two boys have been silent. Probably worried about you. You feel instantly sheepish. “I get it. You just wanted some love, didn’t you babydoll?” You look at him over James' shoulder, and predictably, he’s insufferably smug. He sees you watching and pats the top of the couch invitingly. “Come here, sweet thing, let me fix you up.” 
“I think I’m doing just fine,” James teases, but his grip loosens, one hand remaining on the small of your back as he walks you over to the couch. 
“Yeah, but we can share.” Sirius rolls his eyes. He grabs for you the second you’re close enough, hauling you up against him while James flops down on your other side. “What game are you playing, standing over there and looking all forlorn?” he asks you, peppering your cheek with kisses. A startled giggle spurts out of you, but he remains completely serious. “If you wanted a cuddle, all you had to do was ask.”
“It seemed dramatic,” you admit, though now that Sirius has got your face squished in his hand and James’ arm is draped around your shoulder, your silence feels a bit dramatic too. “And kind of needy.” 
“Babe.” Sirius is heartbroken, pulling back to give you a horrified look. “Being needy is my thing. I hardly think asking for a hug could challenge my hard-earned reputation.”
“You’re not needy,” you say warmly, but Sirius only rolls his eyes as if you’re being difficult.
“Anyway, wanting a hug is hardly needy,” James chimes in. “I’m always happy to give you one.” 
“Same here,” Remus says from the kitchen, sounding a bit apologetic. “Though I wish you would have asked, dove. I can’t read minds like Jamie can.” 
Your chest tightens guiltily. “Sorry.” 
“Don’t be,” he says easily. “Listen, dinner’s almost done, but want to put on a film to watch while we eat? I could make it up to you with a cuddle.” 
“That sounds great,” you reply thankfully, and James grabs the remote to begin going through the movies while Sirius gets comfy against the side of the couch. He lifts your legs to drape them over his. 
“Good luck getting you away from me,” he murmurs conspiratorially. James chuckles, arm a welcome weight around your shoulders. “I’m not giving you up.” 
It seems like there was room for you after all.
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notjustjavierpena · 2 months
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Te Quiero, a Husband!Javier Valentine’s Special
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: This is for all my readers who have wanted to get an insight into Hubby and Wife’s dynamic, backstory and family life. I hope you enjoy it because I put my heart into this mess of a fic. Thank you @strang3lov3 for always inspiring me, thank you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for always being a great beta-reader and here’s to @morallyinept who told me to tag her in any V-Day fic I post!l
Summary: Your husband has made big plans for Valentine's Day, beginning with breakfast in bed, but not everything goes as smoothly as expected, and suddenly you are faced with a big surprise. 
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18, hubby!Javier, tooth-rotting domestic bliss, breastfeeding, playful banter, Chucho makes an appearance!!, siblings being siblings, Javi loving you and his kids, negative feelings about your mom-body, insecurity/comfort, spontaneous sex, pussy eating, (Spanish) dirty talk, fingering, unprotected piv sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, silly people in love, LOTS of kisses, lots of i love yous, mention of pregnancy and its symptoms    
Word count: 11.7k (i am so sorry)
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53757202
Te Quiero
You open your eyes, reaching to rub them as the door to the bedroom opens by Javier using his shoulder and backing into it. There’s a crease on his forehead, between his furrowed brows, from looking extremely concentrated because he is carrying a wooden tray in his hands. 
Most days you are a heavy sleeper. It is a result of having two children without an understanding of the concept of privacy when it comes to their parents. However, what truly wakes you up is the concerning rustle of utensils, plates, and mugs that your husband is balancing as he nears your shared bed. 
Because Javier has his back to you, you close your eyes again and pretend to be asleep, not wanting to ruin the surprise. The tray is placed on the foot of the bed, and you fight a smile as you hear his footsteps coming around the end of the bed and closer to your side. 
“Buenos días (good morning),” he whispers to you, and you roll onto your back and sit up. Javier stands by the side of the bed and waits. 
Like in a movie, you blink awake slowly and lift your arms up over your head to stretch and yawn. Javier looks at you expectantly, and you catch a glimpse of why your son resembles him so much. They both have that boyish charm, the ability to look excited in the exact same way when waiting for a reaction from you. 
“What’s all this?” You ask with a grin. 
“Happy Valentine’s Day, mi vida (my life),” he says and leans down to initiate a kiss.
“I have bad breath,” you point out.
“I have coffee,” he replies and kisses you anyway, “And today’s crossword puzzle.”
“I knew I married you for a reason,” you scoot to sit back against the headboard. Javier moves to get into bed with you, pulling the covers aside to get under them while you reach for the tray. You place it between the two of you as if you are about to have a picnic in bed. 
“Did you check on Seb?” You ask as you marvel at the breakfast that Javier has put together for the two of you. There are heart-shaped chocolate chip pancakes, an abundance of fresh fruit (including blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, and banana), whipped cream, syrup, and coffee the way you both like it; black without anything more which Javier claims - to this day - is still one of the reasons that he fell for you. 
“Still asleep for now but I suspect he’ll want one of us soon because he can hear us,” he tells you and reaches for his mug after handing you yours. 
“I’ll enjoy this while it lasts then,” you take a sip of coffee, humming at the taste. Then, after putting down your mug, you pop a blueberry into your mouth. 
“I think Lucas has a crush,” Javier tells you in a heartbeat later, smirking into his own cup of coffee. 
You raise a brow in suspicion and surprise, looking at him without turning your head. You swallow down the blueberry and go for the pancakes next, “What makes you say that?”
“Well, he got shy when I asked him if they were making Valentine cards at school today. So I figured something was up because he usually doesn’t get quiet about all those things, you know, he’s touchy-feely,” Javier explains. As he talks, you pour syrup onto the stack of pancakes on your plate, “Inés nearly fell off her chair as she talked about what the school has planned. So yeah, whatever, he’ll tell us if he wants to.”
“Well, perhaps, and hopefully I might add, he’s inherited his dad’s charm as well as his good looks,” you tease, tapping your chin as if you are trying to remember something, “What was it Connie called you? Think it was serial romancer.”
“Hold on, you’ve never told me this,” he pretends to look offended, “When was this?”
“At the bar… just after I laid eyes on you,” you sprinkle fruit on top of your breakfast and wipe your hand on your tank top, “She told me not even to think about it but I knew that I was done for.”
“That damn woman,” he lets out a genuine laugh, “Better tell Steve to keep his lady under control.”
“Connie’s definitely the one keeping her man under control. Just like me,” you smirk, taking a bite that is way too big because your eyes can’t get enough. You groan at the taste. Everything is delicious, so you stuff your mouth and thus don’t have to reply to your husband’s outrage.
“Hey,” he says but you just grin at him, showing off each piece of pancake between your teeth. He sighs but there’s a hint of adoration in his eyes and you know he is fighting a smile, “Charming.”
When you finally swallow, he has dug into his own meal. You eat in silence for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s company as it is undisturbed by children. 
“Don’t you have work today?” You ask eventually. 
“I told them I was coming in later,” he replies, stabbing a strawberry with his fork, “They can survive without me until 10-ish. They’re gonna have to.”
You glance over at the clock on your nightstand. It is 8:16. There’s still time to enjoy each other’s company, maybe even have a cuddle or something more if you aren’t too full from breakfast. 
Javier has opened the paper now but he hasn’t gotten out a pen yet which means that he isn’t starting the puzzle yet. You continue eating, and meanwhile, conversation flows naturally around subjects like work, kids, and sweet memories. 
Suddenly, in the midst of reminiscing about your first trip out of town together, the light on the baby monitor comes on and Sebastian’s distraught, unhappy cries sound through the speaker. Javier puts down the paper and gets up before you. 
“Do you think he’s hungry?” You ask, already moving to pull your top’s straps down to reveal your breasts. 
“I know he is, that’s how he cries when he is,” he moves towards the door, already talking to his son throughout the house, “I’m coming, mijo (my son).”
“You’re so much better at the parent thing than me,” you try to remember which of your breasts you nursed from last night but you cannot, and therefore resort to feeling for the fuller one. 
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” he leans down to kiss your lips before heading down the hall. You listen and wait, hearing Javier coo at his newborn and causing the cries to turn into hiccups instead. 
After a moment, he returns with Sebastian in his arms. You hold out your own and he carefully hands him over to you. With a grin, you settle your baby into your arms, “Hi, sweetheart. Hi there, baby boy, ooo, you’re hungry, aren’t you? Look at that big mouth you’ve got — Honey, can you get me a cloth?”
You don’t look up but hear Javier leave the room again but only briefly. He comes back and gives you a muslin cloth which you throw over your shoulder, a thing that always makes Javier joke about you looking like - and kind of being - a bartender if that bartender only served milk. 
Sebastian quickly latches on. He closes his eyes as he nurses, and you look longingly at your breakfast as he eats his own. You frown, “It’s getting cold. My coffee too.”
“Just sit back,” your husband reassures, shifting on the bed without making the tray tip over. He cuts a piece of pancake and stabs it with his fork, “Open up.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you smile happily but oblige. 
“You’re literally keeping my kid alive, mi amor (my love). The least I can do is keep you alive as well, fuel you up,” he feeds you with his own mouth slightly agape. It makes you laugh. 
“What?” Javier chuckles in his confusion.
“You look like a fish,” you tease as you giggle, letting Sebastian grab at your index finger, “I’ve never noticed if you look like this too when feeding the kids.”
“Cállate (shut up),” he laughs, consciously avoiding making himself look foolish again as he feeds you another bite. He purposely pokes your nose with the back of your fork to smear the tip with whipped cream, and you respond by looking shocked while laughing. 
“That’s so unfair, I have an actual baby in my arms,” you argue, looking down at Sebastian to give him the run-down on his father’s behavior, “You know, Seb, it’s a good thing I love him so much. Look at this. Absolutely ridiculous.”
“I think you might have deserved that one, baby,” he reasons, “Don’t think I feel bad. Seb agrees.”
“You don’t know that,” you use the muslin cloth to wipe a little milk off of your child’s cheek and then wipe whipped cream off your nose too, “Now, please, feed your starving wife. I feel weaker by the second.” 
“Always the dramatic,” he replies but follows through. 
The teasing dies down after that. You eat whatever Javier gives you whilst you are breastfeeding and Javier eventually finds the crossword in the paper to do it during your quiet morning. 
When Sebastian is done eating, cooing happily, you bend your knees and place him against your thighs. You hold both of his hands, doing a little dance with him whilst your husband reads clues aloud. 
“Another word for radiance, four letters and beginning with g,” he says. 
“Glow,” you reply instantly.
“You’re so much better at the crossword thing than me,” he winks and writes down the remaining letters. 
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you smile at him and he smiles back. The morning is perfect. 
*
After a cozy morning, Javier has to leave for work. He kisses you and Sebastian goodbye and takes the breakfast tray down into the kitchen with him so you can sleep more if you want to. 
You protest at first - it really hadn’t been your intention - but seeing your baby yawn and coo in your arms makes you sleepy, and you end up on your side with Sebastian on Javier’s side of the bed. He has his arms above his head, face turned towards you and you rest an arm over him whilst you snore lightly. The few hours of sleep you get like this without any interruption are fantastic, boosting your productivity for the rest of the early afternoon. 
You dress casually and wrap Sebastian in a sling, so he can sleep against your chest while you clean up from breakfast, fill and start the dishwasher, and do a round of laundry before having to pick up Lucas and Inés from school. 
However, when you start to get the car keys from their place in the hallway, you hear the door open and the familiar sound of children’s voices filling the house. You can hear the enthusiasm in their voices as they talk to who you assume is your husband but when you turn the corner, you see that it is, in fact, your father-in-law.
“Hello, mija (my daughter),” Chucho says and takes off his hat. He hangs it by all the coats and scarves, “Javier told me to pick up the kiddos.”
You look a little dumbstruck, having been taken completely by surprise but still, you walk over to give him a hug and receive a kiss on the cheek, “Did he say why?”
Chucho kisses Sebastian’s head too, who only coos quietly against your chest. From below, Inés is trying to get your attention. You run a hand over her hair without looking at her, trying to get her to tone down her enthusiasm as you search for answers. Chucho just smiles. 
“It’s Valentine’s Day, sweetie,” he reasons with a gentle smile, “I think he has his reasons. All I know is that I’m not supposed to bring them back here before tomorrow afternoon after school.”
“Abuelo promised that we could get pizza for dinner,” Inés interrupts again. You smile down at her whilst trying to process having a whole twenty-four hours off from being parents. 
“Ain’t you lucky,” you say with a grin. 
Chucho beckons Lucas over who brings his school bag with him, “But first, I think these two have some things to show you. Lucas, c’mere.”
“We made presents!” Inés says and Lucas glares. He frowns at his little sister, placing his backpack by his feet and throwing daggers in her direction.
“Inés, you’re ruining the surprise,” he grumbles despite still digging into the bag. Inés seems unbothered about his irritation, simply joining him to stick her hands into the bag as well. Lucas continues, “Don’t tell Mom what it is.”
You and Chucho watch them, hiding a chuckle as Inés eventually still states that she wants to show her drawing first and Lucas starts groaning. 
“Mom!” He says with exasperation. 
“Ay, Inés, por favor (please),” you say, “Let Lucas share his surprise. It’ll be your turn soon.”
“Mine is for Papá,” she states proudly. 
“She’s just excited, hijito (little son),” you hear your father-in-law say. He puts a calloused hand on Lucas’ shoulder, whispering quietly, “Show your mom your present. Inés’ll be too busy talking to notice.”
It is true. Inés gets a hold of her drawing and spends her time admiring her work, and Chucho is sweet enough to indulge her to give you and your son a moment alone. 
In his very own gentle nature, Lucas finds the card that he has made for you just next to where Chucho had told him to store Inés’ drawing as well. He blushes as he hands it to you, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mom.”
You inspect it before opening it; it is a blank card that Lucas has decorated with colorful stickers and glitter, having drawn shapes and patterns along the sides and a big heart in the middle where it says To Mom in his wonky handwriting. 
You open it to reveal a little letter addressed to you. It is framed by another border of glitter:
Dear Mom,
Happy Valentine’s Day! I love you a million billion times around the Earth. You take care of me and Inés and Sebastian. And you always make me happy when you give me a hug. 
Love, Lucas
You find yourself speechless for a moment and out of the corner of your eye, you see the familiar expectant face that Javier sported earlier too. It takes your breath away. 
Carefully, you crouch down with Sebastian still in his sling. It gives you the opportunity to embrace Lucas from the side, hugging him close and kissing his hair repeatedly. You whisper endearments to him, tell him you love him and he gets shy as he reciprocates, using the time to caress Sebastian’s fine hair on top of his head. 
“I love you so much, my Valentine boy,” you say with a soft voice as you pull away, stretching again and running your hand through his dark hair repeatedly. You can feel a few more tears escape your eyes, your heart pinching in your chest from how much love you feel. Could the day become more perfect? You doubt it. 
“Dad asked me about it at breakfast but I was scared of him telling you so it wouldn’t be a surprise because he always does. But then Inés did it anyway…” he grumbles and looks up to see your tears. His eyes widen, “Mom, are you crying?”
“It’s just happy tears, mijo (my son),” you reassure, “Sometimes having babies makes you cry a little more often.”
Lucas seems a little confused by this. You tell him that he’ll understand when he gets older. After all, he only has so many years until hormones will start to rage through his own body. 
Suddenly, the front door opens and closes in the next moment, and Inés giggles loudly as she recognizes the sound of her father’s footsteps. When he enters the kitchen doorway - his steps are way bigger even if Inés is running - he crouches down and opens his arms, “There she is! Mi diablilla (my little devil), how are you?”
Inés throws her arms around her father’s neck, drawing still clutched in her grip to the point where the paper crinkles. You feel like it was a waste of time to try and wipe away your happy tears because the sight makes them well up in your eyes once more. 
“I made you a drawing. Abuelo told me I could give it to you before we go to his house. Did you know we are having pizza tonight? I can have a whole pizza to myself and I want the pizza to have pepperoni,” Inés announces, squealing with delight as Javier wraps his arms around her before stretching to his full height again and picking her up with a dad-groan. He places her on his hip, bumping his nose into her cheek.
“Christ, you get bigger by the second. Pizza? I don’t remember you liking pizza,” Javier teases, walking across the room to the rest of his family. He smiles at his son, reaching out to rub his shoulder with his free hand and winking at him before talking further with babbling Inés, “Hold on, I thought you liked broccoli and spinach the most. Do you really want pepperoni? I think you should get broccoli on your pizza.”
Inés loves it when her father teases her. He’ll act dumb and silly on purpose - her favorite thing a year ago had been whenever he made himself purposely bad at puzzles, and he’d try to piece two corners together -  much to his daughter’s delight. 
“Nooo, ew!” She says with a grin, clinging onto him. 
“She only wants it because I want it,” Lucas says matter-of-factly, still a little frustrated with his little sister. He bounces back and forth on his heels. 
“Then you can have her leftovers, mijo (my son), she never eats a whole pizza anyway” Javier reasons and mouths the last bit of the sentence, moving the hand on his son’s shoulder to put it on the back of his neck. He gently tugs him into his side. Eventually, your son gives in and hugs him around his middle.
“Hi Dad,” he says softly, hugging him tightly even if it’s briefly. 
“Hola,” he smiles. 
“We should get going,” Chucho interrupts gently and reaches for his hat again, “We’ve got a lot of things planned this afternoon. The animals won’t take care of themselves.” 
“My drawing!” Inés yells, squirming in her father’s arms from eagerness and rushing, so much that she nearly smacks the picture into his face. She holds it too close to his eyes so that he has to take it and hold it for her. 
You find yourself tiptoeing up behind them to look at the picture yourself, trying not to distract anyone from what they’re doing. 
It’s a picture of your house. There’s a fire in the chimney but its smoke blows the opposite way of the way that a cloud is raining. She has just started drawing butterflies but they’re as big as the trees in the garden and with multicolored wings. 
In the bottom right corner, she has written I love Daddy but replaced the word love with a heart instead. Underneath is her signature. The S in her name is turning the wrong way but it’s her name nevertheless. 
“This is so good,” Javier says enthusiastically, “Tell me about it. What is it?”
“It’s my house! I drew a lot of butterflies in the garden,” she explains proudly. In the background, you notice that Chucho is carrying bags, which you had no idea were packed, out of the front door. 
“I can see that. You really know how to color. The green one is my favorite,” Javier continues, “Do you want me to put it on the fridge for when you come home tomorrow?” 
Inés nods eagerly. She beams and then turns serious, “Yes! If— if you want to take the rabbit one down that’s okay.”
“Oh, I am gonna miss you, mi vida (my life),” Javier pecks her cheek and she giggles, “So much.”
“It’s only till tomorrow,” you point out with a giggle. 
“Doesn’t mean I won’t miss these rascals,” Javier puts Inés down on the floor again, still holding her drawing and making sure not to crumple it. He ruffles Lucas’ hair, “You too, hijo (son).”
“I love you, Dad,” he says with a shy smile. 
“I love you too, Daddy!” Inés joins in. 
You mimic a wave with Sebastian’s little hand, “I love you too, Papá.”
“Now, now. As much as I love you, say bye to Mom,” he protests, nodding towards his infant son, “Want me to take him?”
“Yes, please,” you say and carefully unwrap Sebastian from his sling. It’s not a difficult transfer, something you have done a million times in the past many years. Sebastian only complains a little, Javier tuts and bounces him and the paper in his hand flaps. 
You hug both of your kids at the same time, kissing them repeatedly on their heads, “I love you very much, my babies. I hope you have a fun time.”
“That’s the car packed,” Chucho announces as he comes back inside, “Come on, kids.”
“Right, I’ll put Seb in his car seat,” Javier replies as Inés and Lucas run to their grandfather’s car. Chucho goes with them to put on their seatbelts. 
“Sebastian is going too?” You tense up. This hasn’t even crossed your mind. 
“It’s just supposed to be us tonight,” Javier says, having put Inés’ drawing on the kitchen counter and already moving towards the front door where the car seat is on top of a cabinet. You hear shuffling around as your husband clicks the safety belt on, and you instinctively follow. 
“We haven’t done that since the summer,” you argue. 
“All the more reason to do it again if it’s been that long,” he responds with a little smile.
“Well, does he have enough milk?” You ask, moving your weight from side to side. 
“More than enough, I packed extra.”
“O-okay.”
Javier leaves the car seat on the floor, steps close to you and cups your face, “He’ll be fine. Just like Inés and Lucas have been in the past. Relax, mi amor, no pasa nada  (my love, it’s okay).” 
“Okay,” you take a deep breath and nod, holding onto one of Javier’s wrists for a moment as you steady yourself. He looks like someone ready to catch you, “Está todo bien (it’s okay).” 
“Now, let’s say goodbye so I can have you to myself, vale?” He smirks, leaning in to kiss you just barely. 
“You have to tell me what you have planned tonight too,” you say and he nods. 
“Claro (of course).”
It takes five minutes to get Sebastian in the car, secure him properly, and wave goodbye to your kids from the driveway. When you cannot see the car anymore, you walk inside and the house gets incredibly quiet after you close the door. The both of you let out a sigh. 
“What now?” You look at Javier questioningly. After all, he is the one who has planned the next 24 hours.
“Honestly? I just want to take a nap,” he finds your hips and steers you closer, linking his arms around your waist. You reach up to rest your palms on his chest, scratching slightly against his shirt. He chuckles, “Do you want to take a nap with me?”
“Just a nap?” You raise a brow. 
“Yes, just a nap,” he confirms with a boyish twinkle in his eyes.
“I’d kill for a nap but only if you tell me what’s happening later. I don’t like surprises,” you remind him when he already starts dragging you by your hand toward the stairs.
Javier waits until the both of you have ascended the stairs before telling you. You don’t say it but there’s a bit of relief following as you thought that he had forgotten what today was, especially because you usually at least get a present from him. He smiles brightly as he speaks, seeming proud that he has managed to keep it a secret from you, “Well, first you are going to wear something nice, a dress, and get all gorgeous for me.”
He continues as you reach the bedroom, toeing off his shoes, “Then at eight, I’m taking you out to dinner at that new place downtown where the portions are fucking tiny and ridiculous.”
“Wait, the gourmet restaurant?” You have let go of his hand to undo the baby wrap, folding it afterward and placing it on your shared dresser, “They’ve been fully booked for months.” 
“Well yeah, and guess whose name is on one of the bookings,” he smirks, crawling onto the bed and waiting for you to follow. 
“You spoil me,” you lay down on your respective sides and turn to face each other. You rest both hands underneath your cheek, grinning at the way that Javier looks so mischievous but suddenly, something in his eyes darkens. 
“What?” You ask.
He reaches out for your waist, “And then when we get home, when you are all giggly from champagne, I am putting a baby in you.”
Your heart skips a beat. All blood in your body goes south. Without thinking, you sling a leg over his body and move closer, “Is that so?”
“Indeed, mi vida (my life),” the hand on your waist goes to rest on top of your thigh. He rubs it once and then twice but doesn’t do anything further, “But not now. Have a nap, wake up, and get pretty for me. You won’t get dick before tonight, lo siento (I’m sorry).”
“Unfair,” you mumble with already closed eyes. 
*
It turns out to be just a nap. You wake a good while longer before Javier, knowing that you need more time than he does to get ready if you want to feel good about going to a fancy restaurant. 
Besides you, your husband continues sleeping soundly. He doesn’t even sense it when the mattress shifts, bed springs creaking a little, as you leave the bed, and you make a mental note to ask him about his day to figure out what on Earth has made him this tired. 
You have a checklist in your head with steps for getting ready to go out. It changes with the details of the event, so you pull out the one that includes what you like to do to look pretty for your husband. However, all the lists always start with a shower. 
The spray is hot and soothing against your skin. You wash your hair and leave in your conditioner while you scrub your body, giving it extra time to work as you top your normal shower routine by shaving your legs. After struggling with balancing your leg against the wall for what has seemed like forever, the last five minutes of your shower are just spent standing underneath the shower head to feel the water cascading down your clean, smooth, and soft skin. 
It takes you twenty-five minutes more to put on lotion, brush your teeth, blow dry your hair, and choose an outfit. When you leave the bathroom to put on your dress, Javier kisses you in the doorway before popping into the shower himself. 
Now the hard part, you think to yourself. The dress you have chosen is from your anniversary a few years ago, consisting of tight red fabric. A part of you knows that it’s a bad idea as soon as you take it off its hanger and start putting it on, stepping into it, and pulling it up over your hips. 
When it hugs your body in a way that feels unfamiliar to you, you step towards the full-body mirror on the bedroom wall with the intention of seeing if it needs any adjustments around your chest and waist. What greets you is not something that you wish to continue looking at but staring into the mirror, you find yourself unable to look away.
A reflection of your post-baby body stares back. You aren’t anymore who you were when you had Lucas, and thus getting back into your usual shape after giving birth to Sebastian has not become a reality despite the pressure from people around you being there. 
There’s not much to say about it except your hips are wider and your stomach protrudes more than it did before. Usually, you haven’t worn a dress before getting down to your pre-pregnancy weight but Javier had made it sound so easy and now, it is so difficult; insecurities whisper in your ear as you try to flatten the fabric in hopes of looking prettier.
However, the scrutiny you put yourself under only intensifies and self-doubt becomes the uninvited guest that insecurity brings to the party. Should you ditch the idea of a dress altogether? You think yes and start to undress again because it’s way too tight around your middle and torso.
When Javier comes back into the bedroom, his hair is still damp and he has put on black underwear. You cannot help feeling the tiniest bit bitter at how well his extra pounds suit him and simply leaves him with a so-called dad-bod. He finds you stepping out of the dress as it has pooled around your feet. You look on the verge of tears at this point, knowing that you are not the woman that he chose to marry ten years ago. 
“¿Que pasó (What happened)?” He is just about to head for the dresser when he stops in his tracks and turns on his heel to face you, noticing immediately the way your shoulders slump when you feel defeated.
You smile at him in the mirror, slightly unsure, when he catches your eyes, and you shift a little on the spot when he goes to stand right behind you.
“What?” You ask.
“What’s wrong?” He inquires once again. 
“Do you think I’m pretty?” The question leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and Javier raises a brow. 
“Is this a trick question?” He continues with a smile, “Baby, you are pretty, so pretty. You look incredible. As in, it is actually illegal or should be.”
Your attempt at a smile falters and Javier seems to realize that he has overdone it. You don’t believe him when he goes too head-on with the compliments. 
“I don’t have anything to wear,” you say in frustration and reach up to rub your face, finally turning around to avoid the mirror completely, “My boobs are too big, my thighs and waist too. Nothing looks good on me, especially not a dress.”
“Ay, slow down,” he looks down at your half-naked body and smirks a little. It mostly just makes you want to cover up again, “First of all, your boobs are great.”
You try to laugh but it just sounds painful. Then he finds your eyes again, watches the pout on your face, and tuts when a tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek. 
“I’m not beautiful anymore,” you say as if it’s a fact, “I look so different from when you met me.”. 
He wipes the tear away with his thumb, saying your name gently and you find your eyes prickling with more frustrated tears. 
He lets out a soft aww, baby, and steps closer to pull you into his arms, holding you as he lets you whimper quietly and then cry softly into his shoulder. His hands rub up and down your back. He is so warm.
“How about I choose something?” He suggests after a long silence filled with a bunch of silent tears. He pulls back to look you in the face, “You know I have a favorite, and then it won’t be as much pressure if you worry that I won’t like it. Even if that’s bullshit.”
“O-okay,” you sniffle, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. 
“Okay, baby,” he smiles genuinely and pecks your hair.
He goes to browse through your clothes and you stay by the mirror, still not turning around to look at yourself but instead looking at your feet like a child feeling guilty. It takes a moment for him to find the dress that he refers to as his favorite but when he returns to you, you look up again and are surprised by the one he apparently likes more than all the others.
It’s a navy blue satin dress that you bought last year when you were pregnant with Sebastian, and it quickly became your favorite dress for the summer because it had to be tied just below your breasts and therefore didn’t sit tight around your belly. It has butterfly sleeves and a flowy skirt that is slightly longer in the back and stops right at your knees in the front. It’s a wrap-around too, which means that it shows enough cleavage to make you feel sexy for him and to top it off, holds your breasts in place so you can avoid the annoyance of a bra. 
You don’t know why it didn’t come to mind but you suspect that given how much you wore it last summer, it didn’t feel special enough. However, the fact that Javier likes it so much seems to transform it into the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen. 
Javier pulls the dress off its hanger and walks around you. He puts it on you like a coat and then stands in front of you to tie a knot on the front, undoing it and redoing it when he isn’t satisfied with his creation the first time. None of you say anything. None of you feel the need to.
His hands smooth out the fabric in a careful manner, and you suddenly find that Javier making you feel loved is so interchangeable with you feeling beautiful that you don’t have a clue why you had been in tears five minutes earlier.
He helps you into your heels too, lifting your feet one at a time by holding your ankle. The action is so gentle that you forget to breathe, even more so when he stretches to his full height once more and cups your face. 
“Listen to me,” he says and there’s a certain sternness in his voice. Despite this, he doesn’t sound mean or angry, “I don’t ever want you saying these things about yourself again, okay?”
You nod your head as much as you are able to. A whimper wants to escape your lips but you hold it back. 
“You are my wife, mi vida (my life),” he begins, letting his hands smooth over your shoulders and then down your arms until he can hold both of your hands, “I don’t give a shit about what you used to look like, it’s past, it’s not important. Eres tan hermosa (you are so beautiful). Look at the love you pour into our family. You’re the best Momma in the world, patient and kind, and I am in awe of you every day to the point where I can’t stop falling for you in new ways. You make me happy, make it worthwhile to power through at work so I can come home to you and the kids.”
“And you have never looked sexier,” he continues, eyes going down your body to see for himself that he is undoubtedly right. He grabs your hips, rubbing circles with his thumbs, “Your hips, your thighs… You’ve carried my children, for fuck’s sake. Without you, I’m nothing.”
“I mean look at you…” He trails off for a moment, looking down at where his hand is resting on your hip. You cannot help thinking about how warm his strong hand is, radiating comfort throughout your body. He looks lost in his thoughts and licks his lips without thinking. 
“Javi,” you say quietly. 
“Do you understand?” He asks.
“Yes,” you say almost nervously.
But then suddenly, his arms are around your waist and he is pulling you in for a kiss that makes you forget about the dinner reservation, the insecurities, and the time management altogether. You sling your arms around his neck and give in to his lips on yours, following him wherever he goes as he tugs you away from the mirror and towards the bed. 
Before he instructs you to lie down, his hands find the knot on the front of your dress. He undoes it slowly, letting the dress fall open like a satin robe and groaning at the sight of your lack of a bra. He lets his hands go inside the dress, skimming his palms around your waist to pull you close and your head swims from the feeling of his skin on yours. 
“Hermosa (beautiful),” he says, hands going up and cupping the underside of your breasts, You smile shyly, looking down to where he is touching you. Warmth has started to burn low in your belly just like before you fell asleep. 
With newfound bravery, you reach up to peel the dress off of your shoulders. It falls down to your elbows, exposing your chest and tickling your back, until you let it slip off onto the ground in a pool around your feet. Javier looks like he might need someone to tell him to breathe. 
He wraps one arm around your body and reaches behind your thigh with the other to pull your leg up slightly. Allowing him to slip you off your feet, he moves you onto the bed in a swift motion. 
You kick off your heels as soon as you can, crawling back towards the headboard and Javier follows you without having to get undressed. After all, he never got any further because he saw you. You feel like you want to giggle with glee at the fact that you still have this effect on him years later. 
Instinctively, you bend your legs and plant your feet flat on the mattress and without hesitation, Javier crawls between them to look down at you and marvel at the sight. He looks like a child on Christmas Day, hands reaching out to run up your shins, over your knees, and to grope at your thighs. 
“Qué fuerte (unbelievable), are you really my wife?” He muses while rubbing your thighs absentmindedly. You reach for his hands and tug him down to you. 
“Sí, mi amor (yes, my love),” you sound drunk on him already, using his own words against him. He is so close to you as he lies on top of you, crushing you so heavenly with his weight.
He kisses you longingly and gently scoops you into his strong arms whilst he does it, holding you flush against himself so you can feel your nipples harden against his chest. When you inhale through your nose to keep the kiss going, his scent fills your nostrils and God, he smells like soap and home.
It takes a minute to move on. You can see how he wants to descend on your body but each time he tries, you want another kiss and he happily indulges you. Like a couple of teenagers, you only stop when both of you have slightly swollen lips and he has a hard-on poking into your thigh. 
“Let’s get these off,” Javier crawls back on the bed with elevated breath, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your panties. He tugs them down your thighs and you help by lifting your ass off the mattress for a moment. His eyes are glued to your soft, fresh-out-of-the-shower and glowing skin, kissing your ankle as he slips your underwear off your feet and throws it to the side. 
“You are so fucking hot,” he sounds in awe, “Look at you.”
You cannot stop grinning. Even when he lowers himself down on the bed again and gets comfortable between your thighs. 
When he settles, he takes the sight of you in. You can feel your heartbeat in your untouched clit, and it only gets more powerful when Javier looks between your legs as if he is starved. He noses along your knee and then bites your inner thigh, growling under his breath. He moves inwards towards your quivering cunt then finds your eyes just before he dives in, indulges, “Do you know how fucking wet you are for me?”
You do know. It has steadily gotten to the point where you know that when you are going out later, you need to wear a new pair of underwear since the white cotton has probably become see-through and shiny. 
And then his mouth is on you and you throw your head back, nearly breaking your neck and letting out a hah-sound as you stare up at the ceiling.
“You’re so good at that,” you moan, letting your eyes fall shut so nothing can distract you from the way his velvety tongue feels between your legs. It is intense to focus on nothing but the way he can guide it over your clit until your toes start to curl, “Oh my God, baby!”
When he kisses your clit and then sucks on it afterward, you lose your mind. Both of your hands come down to rest on the top of his head and when you feel the first flutters of pleasure that tell you that you are getting closer, you cannot keep your hips still. You move underneath his mouth, pushing your pelvis upward occasionally to let him devour you even further.
He eats you until you are seeping arousal into the bedsheets, pussy aching to be filled and stretched in only the way that his cock can. You twitch, clit pulsing, when his mouth leaves you briefly but you know what is to come - other than you, obviously - so you don’t complain. He does it to concentrate on slipping two fingers inside of you, pressing them upwards toward your g-spot before curling them over and over again. 
His mouth finds your clit again and he is beyond his usual enthusiasm. The hands on his head stop simply resting there. Instead, you thread your fingers through his hair to channel the way you want to scream into something else because oh, mmhm, oh… oh! 
You come on his tongue, shaking like a leaf and with a high-pitched moan that bounces off the walls. Your whole lower body spasms, walls clamping down on Javier’s fingers which still press towards your front wall and make you delirious with pleasure. 
“Fuck!” You cry, “Fuckfuckfuck!”
Javier has pushed himself to his knees to watch you. He replaces his tongue on your clit with his thumb, teasing out the very last twitches of your high by going in circles until you need to yank his wrist away from the overstimulation. 
After a moment, you begin to giggle. Your hand skims over your forehead, holding it there afterward in an almost soothing manner. Javier is looking at you, having wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and is now trying to decipher whether he can move on to something more or if you need a break. 
At no point do either of you think about checking the time. 
“Happy Valentine’s Day to me,” you say when you finally get your breath under control. You still feel giggly but instead, it comes out as a soft chuckle as you speak. 
“You make it sound like I don’t do this often,” he crawls closer to you again, and you tell him to come here as he enters your arms. He kisses your neck a few times and then looks up at you, “I go down there quite a lot and often, you know.”
“Yes, yes, like a good boy, I know,” you tease him, reaching for his chin to pull him into a soft and lazy kiss. He tastes like you, and you lose yourselves in each other once more until Javier pulls off his briefs with one hand. He discards them without leaving you for too long, throwing them to whatever spot he had aimed your own underwear at. 
“Need to have you close,” you voice what you long for, having grown needy from seeing him undress completely. The sight of his beautiful cock is enough to get you fired up again, clenching around nothing, “Please.”
You spread your legs even further and Javier lies between them, reaching down to ease his cock inside of you. He enters you slowly and with a shaky breath, the both of you staring down to watch as he disappears inside of your cunt. 
You hold onto his arms, breathing hard and trying to relax as it stings slightly due to his generous girth. The second he bottoms out, you whine feebly as if you have been holding it back and it’s now safe to do so. 
“Lo sé (I know),” he soothes.
“You feel so good,” you babble, “I love you.”
“Y yo a ti (I love you too),” he bumps your noses together, looking into your eyes as he moves once and then twice. Your mouth falls open in a gasp and he uses the opportunity to lick into your mouth and kiss you deeply. 
You slide your hands underneath his arms to hug him close, letting them go up along his broad back and each ripple of muscle that flexes as he fucks you until you can clutch onto his shoulders. You rock with him, relishing in the smooth motion of his hips moving back and forth to stretch your cunt open again and again. 
Your fingers dig into his shoulders until your knuckles start to ache. No matter how many times he is with you like this, it will never be enough. It will never be enough because you need him to be this close and connected to you every goddamn day. It’s like a hardcore drug that clouds your brain, like the oxygen that you breathe in daily, like the food and drink necessary to survive. 
Without interrupting him, you move to dig your heels into the back of his legs. With each stroke of his cock inside of you, each roll of his gorgeous hips and pelvis, you can feel the muscles of his calves tightening and relaxing. Your limbs tangling around him allows you to angle him how you want it most, so you mumble something and dig your heels in further. 
Suddenly, his pelvic bone crashes against your clit, and it continues doing so until you know that this is how you are going to come a second time. 
“Oh, just like that,” you let your head fall back into the mattress, “You’re gonna make me— Javi! You’re gonna make me come, baby.”
“Is this pussy mine? Esta cosita linda (This pretty little thing)?” He asks with a growl, sounding so sexy that you know he is determined to make your orgasm approach even faster because his thrusts speed up.
“Para toda la vida (for life),” you say breathlessly, panting as you near your crescendo. It only takes a few more strokes against your clit and then you are done for, coming a second time with a sharp intake of breath and then a cry that could disturb the neighbors from whatever they are doing.
He kisses each whimper from your mouth and slows down a little to give you space for you to return to him. However, you know that this isn’t the end. His stamina today is mind-boggling but you don’t complain, instead take what he can give you even if it leaves you sore until the next day.
“You okay?” He asks when you have calmed down. 
You let your arms and legs fall down to your sides with a blissful expression on your face. You nod, reaching up to rub your eyes as you feel deeply sated, “Just give me a moment.” 
“Think you can take anymore?” He pulls out of you to get back onto his knees. You make a noise. On his shoulders, you spot the little crescent marks that your nails have left. 
“We’re making babies, right?” You note.
“Claro (of course),” he snorts. 
“Then you better screw me silly, Mr. Peña,” you shift slightly on the bed to present your spent cunt for him once more but more obscenely this time by reaching down and spreading your lips open. He groans at the sight, especially when you visibly clench around nothing and silently promise him what’s to come.
“Anything for you, Mrs. Peña,” he almost sounds in pain from the desperation to get back inside of you.
The sweet tenderness and romance are put on hold for something dirtier to take their place, Javier moving forward until the front of his thighs touches the back of yours. He pushes inside of you again with a gasp of your name and places his hands on your hips, holding on tightly so he can pound you into the mattress. 
The sound of his skin slamming against yours fills the room along with your moans, and each thrust sends ripples of intense pleasure through your body now that you are so sensitive. You allow yourself the relief of crying out towards the ceiling because, for the next twenty-four hours, you are completely child-free so who cares?
Javier’s eyes burn with desire at your noises. He is so beautiful, mouth hanging slightly open as he pants and his shoulders looking even broader when he hovers above you. And his noises, he is louder than normal too, you realize, with no intention of quieting his moans down either. 
A particular snap of his hips sends you reeling as he nudges your g-spot just right and makes you grip at the sheets. Javier is on you like a hawk and notices immediately the way that his cock has severed connection to your brain for a moment. 
“You like that? You like my cock?” He digs his thumbs into your hip bones, indulging himself by staring down at where his cock pistons in and out of you. His length is sticky with your arousal, “I can tell you like my cock, God, your come is all over me, baby.”
You bite your lower lip, furrow your brows, and nod repeatedly, “Yes… yesyesyes!”
“You’re on fire today, mi amor (my love), makes me wanna come inside of you like I’m meant to,” he spits filthy words as he goes harder, “Think you can give me one more? Make those gorgeous legs shake?”
The comment about your legs makes you bend them to your chest so you can link your arms under your knees. The position makes Javier swear under his breath, and when you squeeze around your calves, he becomes a tighter fit inside of you and a sob escapes you. 
He is the one to look drunk now, fighting the urge to let his eyes roll back into his skull in case he misses anything you do while he drives into your pussy in this new position. He moves his hands to place them on the back of your thighs and contort your body slightly. He digs his fingers into the extra pounds there and then fucks you with your shared pleasure in mind. 
The squelch of your cunt is obscene and you almost sound like you’re crying from how he pounds your g-spot. A third high, which started building slowly, approaches so quickly that you squeeze your eyes shut and nearly choke as you scream for him, “Yes, oh my God, yes! I’m—“
“That’s my girl,” he sounds close too, “Get it all over my cock, baby.”
The bliss you feel as you come a third time turns your demeanor from pathetic and whimpering into smiling and giggling instead. You look up at him with hazy eyes while you are grinning, moaning, and coming so hard that Javier cannot stop himself from laughing slightly even if it’s interrupted by his own moans.
“Fuck, you are gorgeous coming for me,” he praises with a shit-eating grin, gasping sharply at reaching his own peak a second later because he just cannot hold back any longer. He pulses inside of you, breeds you until you are filled to the brim, and you can feel some of it spilling out onto the bed sheets. 
Exhausted is not the right word. Your whole body slumps when post-orgasmic bliss hits you and you groan as Javier topples down on top of you as well. You melt together and breathe hard, one big tangle of limbs turning you into an octopus. 
“Definitely didn’t have time for that,” you say eventually.
“Stop being so hot then,” he jokes. He lifts his head to kiss you longingly and you allow yourself to lose yourself in it, again forgetting about the time that’s ticking by. 
As Javier reluctantly tears himself away from you, he casually looks at the clock on the nightstand and gets up so quickly that he needs to find his balance. He seems to realize that you are not just fashionably late but actually really late, “Mierda (shit).”
You check the time too and swear as well. It is twenty minutes to eight, and it takes at least fifteen minutes to drive to the inner city. There’s no way that the two of you are going to make the reservation, and you will just have to hope that they are kind enough to hold onto your table the minutes you are going to be late. 
It seems like you turn into the stars of your own romantic comedy, the only thing missing being the laughing track in the background because you move through the house so quickly that you almost forget to put on underwear after getting cleaned up in the bathroom. The rush doesn’t even give you time to ponder your shape in the mirror again.
By the time you actually leave the house, you are laughing at the ridiculousness of it all and looking disheveled. In fact, you have to stop Javier from getting into your car because his buttons are buttoned unevenly and his collar looks like he’s been out in a storm. 
“Right, fuck, what’s the time?” Javier asks when he slams the car door on his side. 
You look at the car radio’s clock, making a concerned noise, “Hmm… Ten to eight. If you speed a little?”
“I’m law enforcement,” he deadpans. 
“You’re also late for a booking you have had for months,” you argue. 
Javier pulls out of the driveway but despite it all, he still doesn’t speed with the mother of his children in the car. 
However, he does use his badge in the window to get a parking spot close to the restaurant. He pulls it from the glove box and you raise an eyebrow at him, to which he simply tells you to shut up with a tiny glint in his eye. 
Your heels click on the sidewalk as you speedwalk towards the restaurant’s main entrance. Javier holds the door open for you, and for a moment, you actually look like a couple who has it all together and is on a date. 
Despite this, it seems that impromptu sex is apparently not good for new restaurant businesses, even if it starts out innocently with an intention of comforting one’s partner, because your table has already been given to someone else. You can see Javier’s fist tightening into a ball at his side as he is told this. 
The man at the front desk looks unimpressed with your husband’s attempt to make him show you to a table anyway, and you even hear Javier saying that he cannot, in good conscience, let you starve. 
You stand a little behind your husband who quietly fumes because nothing seems to work, “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid we’re fully booked tonight and many nights ahead. It is Valentine’s Day after all.”
“Yes, I am aware,” he replies with gritted teeth. 
“Honey,” you reach out to put a hand on his arm and he whirls around, only to look a lot more calm the second he finds your gaze, “It’s fine. Come on, we’ll find someplace else.”
“But you’re starving,” he says helplessly. 
“Then let’s not keep this up. I know a place around the corner,” you smile at him, holding out your hand until he gives in and takes it, “Besides, they can keep their tiny portions to themselves.”
It may just be the last remains of what you did half an hour ago but Javier starts snickering while you guide him through the door and out into the evening air. He only manages to walk down the street with you for a few yards before he presses you against a brick wall and kisses you. 
“No,” you scold him playfully and place your palms on his chest, “I don’t care if you’re Laredo’s local hero. You couldn’t get a table so we’re not wasting time by making out in public. Like you said, I am starving.”
“Descarada (cheeky devil),” he pecks your lips but lets go of you, “Fine, lead the way.”
The two of you start walking. The place you have in mind is only a short walk away and it’s a nice night, so you don’t mind. Especially not when you can walk hand-in-hand with Javier the whole way and not have to say a thing.
You end up in front of a food truck that sells tacos. It is the perfect spot for something low-key which makes your whole night seem even funnier now that you are so overdressed. The two of you snicker together as you wait in line, mostly resembling a couple who have escaped a tedious wedding to get junk food. 
“My treat,” he says.
“You better. It’s your fault we’re here,” you tease.
“I think we have different versions of what happened back home,” he winks, “But fine, order whatever you want. Like always.”
You order your food, telling the owner of the food truck to go heavy on the pico de gallo and Javier follows behind with his own order. After paying, you take a step back to let other people buy their food. 
“This is where we had our first date,” he notices, an arm around your waist as you wait for your food. He tightens his grip around you as he speaks, “Where I knew I wanted to marry you, have kids with you.”
“This is not where we had our first date,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, looking at him long enough for him to give you a kiss. 
“Yes it was,” he replies. 
“No, you were drunk and we were heading home from the bar a few blocks from here,” you remind him, “We’d only just met. Connie told me not to follow you.”
“Fuckin’ Connie,” he shakes his head, “No, that was definitely our first date. I don’t care what you say. I just don’t wanna think about the disaster that followed even if you want to call that the first date.”
“You were late and we missed our reservation,” you reminisce, “Just like today.”
“Which is why I am not calling it the first,” he lets go of you as the woman in the truck places your orders on the counter. He hands you yours and then takes his own, “We had food, talked for hours and you were wearing that dress with the bows.”
“No more talk about dresses,” you groan as you walk to find a spot, “You’re making me depressed.”
“I’m just saying,” he shrugs with a grin, “I knew then.”
“Well, I knew when Connie told me you were forbidden fruit,” you smile back at him, and there’s something strangely comforting about knowing that he follows right behind. 
The food truck's sitting area is right behind it in a cozy nook between two buildings. As disappointed as you were at not getting to try out the new restaurant in town, the picnic tables, and colorful plastic chairs more than make up for it. It is a lot more romantic than what you assume the gourmet restaurant would have been, and you choose a spot right underneath a blanket of string lights that seem to imitate stars. 
There are a few guests aside from you, and you feel warm at hearing their voices filled with laughter and joy. 
You sit down on the bench and tuck your skirt between your knees, getting comfortable and looking excitedly down at your soon-to-be-devoured food. There’s something uniquely satisfying about a greasy meal after sex, and even more so when your husband indulges you to have whatever you want. 
You pick up your taco and bite into it, doing a happy dance as you chew whilst Javier watches you with a grin on his face. However, the happiness is short-lived because something in the taco triggers a wave of nausea and you soon realize that it is the pico de gallo. 
“What is it?” Javier has caught on because you cannot help but grimace. 
“This tastes funny,” you say. Puzzled, you take another bite but quickly stop yourself before you are stupid enough to go for a third. Your stomach growls but there’s no way you are eating the rest without at least scraping it off. 
Carefully, you place the taco back down on its paper tray and take a few napkins from the dispenser on the end of the picnic table. You spit your latest bite out into one of them because your body does not agree with the idea of swallowing the acidity again. Then you take a long sip of your water and wish you had something to neutralize the taste in your mouth.
Without thinking much of it, you start to rid your food of the salsa fresca. You use your index finger to scrape it out onto the napkin and pick any remaining pieces off too, avoiding the natural instinct to suck your finger clean and wipe it on a new napkin instead. In front of you, Javier has stopped eating and simply watches you. 
You feel slightly judged by him, narrowing your eyes from annoyance, “What?”
“Are you pregnant?” He asks with a furrowed brow.
“What? No way,” you let out a chuckle of disbelief, “That’s not funny.”
“Honey,” he continues, nodding down at the napkin, “You love pico de gallo.” 
“So? The only times I haven’t eaten it has been when I’m pregna—“ your eyes widen, looking down at your taco for a moment before staring at Javier again. He looks just as alarmed by your food which is only two bites down, “There’s no way.”
Around you, people have started to notice a shift in your voice. It probably sounds like you are upset, like Javier is using Valentine’s Day to break up with you. 
“Baby, there’s no way,” you say again and your voice has become a little higher pitched, “I’d only be five weeks along.”
To the opposite of you, Javier is speechless. He has stopped eating his own dinner, sitting with his own taco but is unable to figure out how to react. 
“We can’t have been lucky the first time around. My period is due in a few days. This is ridiculous. Sebastian is only just about five months old,” you are starting to sound frantic, “Javi. Baby, I am freaking out.”
Javier blinks a few times almost as if he is mentally shaking himself out of his trance. He reaches across the table and takes hold of your wrist, “Calm down. Let’s just finish eating and then we can go get one of those early detection tests, yeah? Te prometo que todo va a salir bien (I promise you that everything is going to be okay).” 
“Yes, alright, you’re right,” you feel instantly calmed by his touch, turning your palm upward so he can hold your hand instead. Then you frown, “But I can’t eat this. It’s probably still going to taste like it.”
“Hold on,” he says, letting go of you to switch plates with you without hesitation, “There, now you can eat.”
“Te quiero (I love you),” you sigh happily, smiling at him from across the table. 
“Love you too, now eat, so you can feed my kid,” he starts to load the taco with pico de gallo again. 
*
The late-night pharmacy, just opening, exudes a subtle but steady hum of activity, bathing in the fluorescent glow of overhead lights. Shelves are neatly lined with pharmaceuticals, and you scrunch up your nose at the faint scent of antiseptic. Javier keeps a hand on the small of your back the whole time, steering you gently toward the counter as if this new piece of information has made him instantly more protective.
There’s only a single pharmacist behind the counter, a middle-aged woman with her glasses around her neck in a chain, but she doesn’t blink when you explain your sudden emergency. She beckons you down along the aisles and grabs a few different pregnancy tests for you to choose from. 
“This one is more certain but it does cost a little extra,” she explains and holds up a Clearblue digital test. Javier quickly exchanges a look with you. 
“We’ll take that one, actually make it two,” you say, tapping your feet nervously on the floor, “Can I use the bathroom here?” 
“We’re that eager?” She smiles, “Sure, dear. Let me just get the key.”
Javier pays at the counter, a twinkle in his eyes as he makes a joke, “My treat again.”
“You better; you’re the one who got us into this mess - again,” you giggle and it even earns you a chuckle from the pharmacist. 
“I hope you get the result you are hoping for,” she says when unlocking the door to the staff toilet. She ushers you both inside the door and then closes it behind you.
Silence at last, you think to yourself and even find that the water you drank with your meal earlier has run right through you. You pull up your skirt, twisting it and tying a knot to keep it from falling down again. You go for your underwear next, bending over to pull them down your legs to your ankles. You feel Javier’s palm steadying you without thinking.
Besides you, Javier starts tearing open the Clearblue boxes. He hands them to you one by one, and you finally sit down to pee, angling your wrist awkwardly to make sure you use the sticks correctly. The both of you stay silent through the whole ordeal.
You wrap both pregnancy tests in toilet paper and hand them to Javier who places them on the edge of the sink so you can finish up and get dressed again. He takes a step to the side to let you wash your hands, having crossed his arms over his chest and started tapping his fingers nervously.
While you listen to the sound of the water running, the air in the tiny, poorly lit bathroom seems to hang thick with anticipation. You want to say something but there is nothing you can say that’ll ease your shared, anxious heartbeat. Eventually, Javier beats you to it.
“Don’t be disappointed if it’s negative,” he gives you an uncertain smile. Mostly, it sounds as if he is talking to himself. 
“You know I will be,” you sigh, stepping close to link your arms around his neck. He nods in understanding, cupping your waist and rubbing soothingly with his thumbs.
“Me too,” he lets out a shaky breath.
“I know,” you automatically tighten your grip on him as the minutes go by, knowing that he needs it as much as you. On the sink, the white plastic sticks seem to mock you with their silence. 
Come on… 
A few minutes more and suddenly, you know there is no way back. It seems ridiculous that a stick with your pee on it has the ability to predict your future but here you are. You shake your head after untangling yourself from your husband, “I can’t look.”
Javier bravely takes them from their place on the sink. Your stomach does somersaults as he unwraps them, twisting them so their displays face upward. A slow, relieved smile spreads across his face and he looks up immediately, “You’re four to five weeks pregnant.”
“What?” You grab his wrist to take a look for yourself, “There’s no way!”
Sure enough, both displays show a positive result and an approximate number of weeks. Calculating in your head, you know it has to be that one time in the middle of the night in January. The thought of getting it right without even really having begun is crazy because it’s so unbelievable. 
“That’s so surreal,” you walk straight into his arms. He hugs you tightly, resting his lips on your forehead and you can feel his elevated breathing because you are so close to him. 
“Pop is going to have a heart attack,” he mumbles with slight amusement, although you can hear the tremor in his voice. You look into his eyes, reaching up to cup his cheek and smiling softly.
“We can’t tell anyone yet, it’s not been three months,” you say, lost in just staring at him. He is so beautiful when he is happy. 
“God, I know, I'm just so excited,” he chuckles, a little embarrassed. 
“I’m sure you’ve already figured out that it’s going to be a Halloween baby,” you grin. 
“Oh fuck, forget about Pop; Inés is gonna get so pissed if she has to share Halloween with a birthday child,” he starts to laugh after he has said it. You join in, high on the happiness you feel.
“I love you so much,” you say when the laughter dies down. 
“I love you too,” he kisses you after saying it. 
“And happy Valentine’s Day to us,” you continue, letting Javier pull away to throw the pregnancy tests out and wash his hands. 
“See? Now you’re using it right,” he teases after drying his hands. 
Then he opens the door and waits for you to step outside. Everything seems possible tonight.
.
.
.
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doki-doki-imagines · 6 months
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They compliment you feat. mk1 bi-han, kitana, kung lao
author note: felt like I was going to explode if I didn't post them today, I hope it's not complete trash LOL.
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Bi-Han: -It was a quiet morning, for once you were the first to wake up, so you started cooking for the both of you. -Then you felt the arms of your lover wrapping around your waist, always so chilly against your body. -You feel his right cheekbone brush against yours, like a kitty searching for affection, then his chin rests on your shoulder, you can feel his black eyes on you. "Dawn creates light and shades on your face, making your feature stand out even more, I didn't think it was possible to make you look even more beautiful." -You choke on your own spit, stunned by the honeyed words dripping from your partner lips. -What was happening? Did Bi-Han hit his head during sparring? In any case, there's no way you'll stop him. -Kettle whistle, but you don't move, still looking at Bi-Han with wide eyes. -He sighs, kisses your cheek, and takes the kettle, pouring the boiling water into his cup, where you previously put the tea bag. -"Moron, if this is your reaction, I'll have to filter my thoughts again." -You shook your head, hell, you don't think you'll ever be able to go back now, his sweet words a drug that got you immediately addicted. Sadly, you aren't used to compliments anymore; you can just stutter out a no, while you feel heath on your cheeks. -Bi-Han smirks at you, a playful gesture you rarely see (and you are still thanking the gods that blessed you this morning) his right hand reaching for the apple of your cheek, pulling it in between his index and middle fingers before snapping it back in place. -"Sit down, I'll make you coffee maybe it will wake you up." -You aren't sure if you want to wake up.
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Kitana: -You are waiting for her to return from work, your stomach churning always worried something bad may have happened. -You are reading a novel when you feel the door of the living room opening. You lift your head up, eager to see your lover come in. -And she does, a ray of sunshine deep into the night. -Kitana walks to you, a tired smile on her face, 'till she reaches you behind the armchair you are sitting on. -"Good night beautiful, first time here?" You say, chuckling at your own silliness. -Kitana chuckles along, the kind that shows the wonderful smile that always makes you understand how lucky you are. -"Since you leave me breathless every time I look at you-" Her face lean closer to yours "maybe it is" her plush lips kiss your forehead before she leaves to change in more comfortable clothing. -You curl on yourself, face hidden inside your book, and you are pretty sure your head is fuming for how fast the gears in your brain are working. -"Don't curl up, dear! You know it's bad for your back" Kitana shouts from your shared bedroom "I don't want my princess to get back pain" she whispers the last part. -Maybe one day she will get bold enough to freely speak her mind, for now you'll have to cheerish this rare moment of softness.
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Kung Lao: -You tried a new recipe today, made with the fresh vegetables Kung Lao and Raiden picked up at dawn. -Saying you were nervous is a euphemism. You didn't want to fail, but even more to thrash the food your friend and boyfriend grew and picked up after so much effort. -You put the food on the table, useless to say to start the meal, Kung Lao cheeks were already full, and Raiden followed soon. -The judgment arrived soon, the burp coming from your partner mouth a telltale sign and a bad habit you still weren't able to correct. -"My love, the food was amazing, delicious!" Kung Lao stands up, arms open ready to embrace your body "Not that I have any doubts, your cooking skill just another plus of my wonderful-" He kisses your nose "amazing-" his lips touch your left cheek "beautiful dove" his lips finally rest on yours. -You reciprocate the kiss, but your mind is elsewhere, so used to Kung Lao singing his own praises without sparing a nice word to anybody else, you didn't expect so many compliments. -You break the kiss when you hear Raiden coughing in the background, heath flooding your face while your boyfriend was totally unaffected, still looking at you with that softness he always reserves for you. -Kung Lao soon returns at the table to finish the meal together with Raiden, and then they both go back to train. -But not before smooching your cheek, lips staining your skin with, what you guessed was the juice of the peach Kung Lao eat before going back to work. -You clean yourself with the back of your hand before going back to work, the comoliments of your boyfriend still reverberating into your brain, a nice intrusive thought that won't leave you for the rest of the day.
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httpiastri · 3 months
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focus – pa17
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you just can't help staring at paul's hands and arms. it's impossible not to.
genre: smut 😵 oh dear
pairing: reader x paul aron
warnings: fingering, smut, idk just the regular
word count: 2.6k... it was meant to be a blurb but nope
requested: yes !! requests are still open <3
author's note: felt good to write pa17 😚😚 his number has been jumping between 16 and 17 a couple of times now on the f2 website but i hope it stays as 17 because i love that number. i know i say this pretty much every time i write smut but like... this felt like the dirtiest thing i've ever written....... in hindsight, it wasn't that bad but like shdkfhdk i cringed so hard as usual. anyway. sorry to my estonian readers out there (looking specifically at you elle because you're the only estonian i know lol) for the short mention of the reader not speaking estonian. hope everyone enjoys tho <3
‎‎‎
waking up to an empty bed is one of the things you hate the most in the world. especially when you're supposed to be accompanied by your boyfriend, but he's mysteriously disappeared.
it's been a long week, the first one back to reality after a good winter break, so it takes you some time to wake up from your deep slumber. the sound of one-sided chatter from the kitchen is what finally wakes you up, the warming scent of coffee filling your nose instantly. your mind is so groggy that it takes you a little while to figure out that paul is on the phone with someone – and that the reason you can't understand him isn't that you're tired, it's because he's speaking estonian.
unwillingly, you force yourself out of bed once you understand that he isn't going to join you back in it anytime soon. you pull on a random oversized shortsleeved shirt and a pair of sweatpants before going off to find him in the kitchen, his back turned against you as he leans onto the counter, speaking into the phone. paul turns around at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor as you pull it back, taking a seat at the kitchen table. when he takes you in, a smile reaches his lips and he strolls over to you.
karl, he mouths to you as he points to his phone with his free hand – karl is probably going off about paul's winter break gym program for the tenth time this week, you assume – before letting his hand reach for your cheek instead. after his thumb brushes across your cheek a few times, he leans down to press his lips to your forehead.
then, he turns and walks back to the cupboards, pulling out two mugs and pouring some of the coffee he's been brewing into them. he balances his phone up to his ear with his shoulder as he picks up the mugs, carrying them over to you while letting out a string of confirmative sounds, seeming only mildly interested in what is being said on the other end of the line.
you accept the cup from him, both hands wrapping around it and feeling it warm up your fingers instantly. paul takes a sip of his coffee as he takes his phone into his other hand again, suddenly breaking out in a tangent that you understand nothing from. when paul slips down in the seat opposite you, your gaze shifts to look out through the window, watching the late sunrise leave its hues over the city below you. you've always loved morning moments like these, when there's no rush in the world, nothing to worry about, no reason to stress. it's always so easy to get lost in these moments, in the sound of birds chirping in the distance and the pink clouds flying away into the horizon.
but paul breaks you out of your trance. his free hand reaches for one of yours, removing it from your mug and instead intertwining your fingers with his. you smile subconsciously at the action, your eyes moving over to watch your laced hands. but when you do, you can't help but let your gaze wander.
you've always had a thing for his hands and arms. it's silly, you think, but there's something about it that makes you weak. when paul wears jewelry, it just contributes to your obsession – the silver rings and the pretty bracelets that he only takes off for racing make your heart flutter anytime you see them. and thinking about the pleasure those slender fingers of his bring you...
you would never tell him about it, though. sometimes, you think he must be the most oblivious man in the world for not noticing how you so often blatantly stare at his arms. but then again, he probably would tease you until the end of the world if he found out.
it's easy for you to get carried away by the sight of his arms. the way his fingers fit so perfectly between yours, the way little freckles and moles are scattered across his skin, the way the muscles in his forearm flex when he gives your hand a little squeeze. it's like time and the outside world doesn't exist: it's just you and paul. and his hands and arms.
paul has to call out your name twice to get your attention. when you finally snap out of it, his eyebrows are raised slightly and his lips are curved into a sly smile. "what are you doing?"
"n-nothing!" you let out instantly, although you know that he won't fall for it. you hadn't noticed him hanging up the call – you hadn't even started drinking your coffee yet. you had been too busy... admiring.
"really?" his hand lets go of yours, filling you with a disappointing feeling in just a second. but then, his fingers start grazing up and down the bare skin of your arm, from your wrist all the way up to the sleeve of your shirt. your eyes follow his hand without a single blink. "you seemed so focused, though?"
when his hand suddenly moves past your shoulder and his fingers make their way up to your neck, you can't help but gulp. your gaze slowly moves to the cheeky grin on paul's face as a shiver shoots down your spine. "no, i was just…" speaking gets harder and harder when he lets the pad of his pointer finger brush up along the side of your neck, touch ever so light but more than enough to throw the butterflies in your stomach into a fit.
paul tilts his head, eyebrows rising again. "just what?" he asks, feeling your escalating pulse when he lets his thumb run up the front of your throat. the way your body is physically reacting to him is so amusing to him – and enough to make his own heart begin to race. his thumb reaches your chin, and then travels further along your jaw, hand settling around your jawline. "you're really pretty, did you know that?"
your eyes flutter closed when his thumb caresses your pink-tinted cheek. he draws random shapes into your skin, little hearts and simple flowers, before slowly making his way to your lips. his thumb runs along it once, twice, and on the third time, it's like you act on instinct. suddenly, you've stuck your tongue past your lips, giving him a little lick. his movements stop and you take it as a sign, leaning your head forward just a little to invite his finger into your mouth.
you open your eyes again and you take in the sight in front of you. paul's jaw has dropped, eyes wide and zoned in on your lips. the corners of your mouth curve into a slight smile, completely loving his reaction, but you aren't done here. your tongue swirls around his thumb once, and paul's breath hitches in his throat. he almost pulls his hand away from you in pure shock – but then he lets his curiosity get the better of him, and he keeps it in place. he's far too intrigued to see how far you'll take this.
he merely blinks at you when you quicken the speed of your tongue, eventually even beginning to suck lightly on his thumb. he's completely lost in it now; in the way you're so innocently playing with him, your pretty eyelashes batting at him and your lips forming a slight pout around his finger.
has his pants suddenly gotten much smaller, or is he getting this hard already?
when you finally pull him out of you, he's completely speechless. you chuckle, deciding that maybe now it's your time to tease him. "you seem really focused, paul. what are you doing?"
he pauses for a moment, but then his lips crack into a cheeky grin. "oh, please," he starts. "don't pretend like you didn't enjoy that just as much as i did."
you want to interject, tell him about how he was quite literally flabbergasted until just a second ago, but he cuts you off.
"i knew you liked my hands, but… you like them that much?"
your own hands instantly come up to cover your face, wanting to hide the embarrassment that’s likely growing more and more obvious by the second. so he did know about your obsession all along? "paul-"
"no need to disappear," he interjects. suddenly, he's standing by your side, and in one swift motion, he's swooped you into his arms and carried you to the living room couch. you let out a yelp when he drops you onto it, but you're smiling at him when he removes your hands from your face. he grabs both of your shoulders, pushing you down slowly until your back hits the couch before climbing on top of you. "if you like them that much, let me use them to make you feel good."
he hovers over you for a second to see if there's any kind of hesitation in your face, but the way you look up at him tells him how much you want this. he doesn't waste any more time, immediately leaning down to lace his lips with yours. the sound you let out against him has been held back for long now and it gets him going instantly.
you wrap your arms around his shoulders for stability as his hands move down your body, one stopping by your hip while the other continues its journey under your shirt. his touch is so light it almost tickles you, and the coolness of his rings against your warm skin sends tingles through your body. his finger dips along the bumps of your ribs, all the way up to your breast. his thumb is still slightly wet with your saliva when it makes contact with your nipple, making your mouth slack against his.
there's no way you can focus on the kiss now; all of your thoughts are on his hands, and he can tell. he breaks the kiss and starts kissing along your jaw instead, his pecks sloppy as he concentrates on kneading your breast. the little sounds you let out when his finger flicks your nipple are like rewards to his ears. his hand that had been on your hip starts moving too, letting his thumb dip just below the hem of your sweatpants.
his head pulls away from your skin. "may i?" he asks, fingers pulling on the hem of your pants. when you don't give him an answer, too immersed in the feeling of his other hand still on your boob, he halts his actions. a chuckle erupts from his throat. "hey, listen to me."
what comes out of your mouth sounds more like a whine than words, but it's accompanied by a quick nod and he understands the meaning behind it. he snickers, pulling your sweats and panties down in one swift motion, your breath hitching as the cold air meets your already-soaked core. your entire body is waiting in anticipation, so eager and so needy that when he drags a finger along your slit, a shudder of pleasure passes through your body.
when paul looks up at you again to see how you're reacting, you have an arm draped over your eyes. he instantly frowns and stops his actions. "hey, i thought you liked watching my fingers?" he asks, and you nod impatiently. one of his hands reach up to grab your wrist. "well, then we can't have this. you need to be able to see my fingers as they work on you."
he pulls your arm away, and you meet his gaze the moment you open your eyelids. the look in his eyes almost takes you out there and then; the look of satisfaction, enjoyment, and just pure love makes you so thankful to have someone as good as this man, looking like there's nothing he'd rather do at nine in the morning than please you with his fingers.
when he notices how you're craning your neck just to catch a glimpse of him, he gets an idea. he sits up more properly again, reaching for two pillows behind him. you shoot him a questioning look, watching as he climbs over you again. then, he snakes an arm around you before propping you up on the pillows; a smaller one underneath your chest, and a bigger one under your head.
"there we go," he hums as he settles between your legs again. "that should make it easier, no?"
you don't have time to answer before you feel him teasingly brushing against your folds again. this time, you don't dare hide – and quite frankly, you don't want to, either. the view you have is far too good to look away from.
one of his hands wraps around the inside of your thigh to spread your legs, as the other hand's thumb draws circles on top of your clit, the little bud so sensitive already. when he finally slips a finger into your dripping core, you can't resist the urge to let your eyes roll back, feeling so good already. it doesn't take many pumps before he pushes another finger in you, too, spreading them apart and stretching you out fully. your hands grab the material of the couch below you, fists turning white as he speeds up his movements and adds yet another finger.
he pulls out a throaty moan from you when he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting just the right spot. you feel like you're reaching your limit already, and the way your breath is getting quicker and more high-pitched lets paul know just how close you are. when his free hand reaches down to play with your clit, you can't take it anymore, the orgasm washing over you instantly.
you really don't want to miss one more second of this, so you force your eyes open and look down. paul loves to hear you whining as you come, seeing your body shudder with the orgasm, and feeling you clench around him – especially when he's fucked you with just his fingers – and the prideful look spreading over his features is a sight to behold. when he helps you ride out the orgasm, your eyes flicker between his face and his hand pumping in and out of you, and you're sure it's the hottest thing you've ever seen.
then, the view is outshined by what he does next. he pulls out of you, your slick covering his fingers. and after that, he pushes his fingers into his own mouth, cleaning them up and sucking them off like they taste better than his favorite meal. holy shit.
"that's..." you speak in between heavy breaths. "so... fucking... hot..."
"you're quite hot yourself," paul says, eyes just barely pulling away from your face to look down at his crotch. "like, do you see how hard i am? just from watching you?"
a weak giggle passes through your lips as you follow his gaze, impressed by the effect you apparently have on him. "want me to help you out with that?" you ask, raising your eyebrows with your suggestion.
"well, if you're offering..."
487 notes · View notes
forthelostones · 7 months
Text
humans can lick too ─── ⋆ (kinktober)
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☄. *. ⋆ fem!reader x dom!abby x perv!ellie ☄. *. ⋆
synopsis: halloween night just turned into another day for you, until you're visited by two desperate ladies.
warnings. 18+ (mdni); threesome, perv!ellie, dom!abby, fingering, nipple play (all receiving), and strap penetration & sucking (r!rec), jealousy, breaking & entering. pet names: baby & dove.
an: this will be my last (purely) smutty post for a while, i want to focus on a different style these next couple of days! this isnt my best & its a bit silly i think but i love this urban legend and i saw someone KB list this as an option. also thanks for 200 follows, much love. (i am taking any requests!)
wc: 2.5k
most halloweens you spend it doing a bar crawl or sitting on your porch, wine in hand, passing out treats. this night was different, you weren’t going out or even entertaining the idea of halloween - it became a normal day to you. earlier this afternoon you took your pup on a walk around the neighborhood and waved to your neighbors who were setting up for tonight. 
“well, city hall sent out an email saying it was imperative that we stay vigilant tonight, y’know.” your across the street neighbor mentioned.
“that’s every year isn’t it? i thought it was typically some teens who come and ruin the fun for all the little ones.” 
“i don’t know, tonight feels different, i'm turning in before 9 tonight just in case. especially with those incidents that happened last month.” 
you took what they said with a grain of salt. you were the youngest among your neighbors and they were always shaken up by the smallest occurrences. but tonight it felt like they may have been right, you couldn’t help but feel a dark cloud follow you on your walk. almost as if someone was watching you. every crunch on the ground your body stiffened, what if something bad is supposed to happen tonight? you and pup rush home in a paranoid frenzy, triple-checking if the front door is locked. 
as soon as you unleash your baby and remove your muddy shoes, you notice how warm the house has become.  you checked the thermostat and it wasn’t set, but you still couldn’t ignore the beads of sweat forming on your forehead. you walk over to the window above the kitchen sink and make a mental note that you should close it before sunset.
 after lounging lazily on the couch you hear the beginnings of laughter and soft screaming in the street for the holiday. you decided you’d do the bowl method tonight and place a note on the front porch, take candy, please! you scroll on your phone waiting for your dinner to heat up and you receive a phone call from your on-and-off against fling, abby.  you guys have a strictly fuck only relationship — she comes and bends you over, then leave. this didn’t bother you, for the most part.
"you coming out tonight?" she questions. 
"nope, staying in." 
your ears perk up at how quiet she’s speaking, but you didn’t care, you liked hearing her voice ring so sweet in your ears. 
"i would love to see you tonight, baby.”
you hear the shuffling of what your paranoid brain assumes to be footsteps coming from your bedroom. you walk towards the steps leading upstairs and get hit with the dial tone. 
“abs? hello?” 
you grip your fingers to form a fist, attempting not to breathe too loudly. just when your foot reaches the first step, the timer on your phone blares, startling you into a silly laugh. you can't believe how spooked you felt.
hey, what happened, why’d you hang up?
sorry, idk bad service, sorry. 
can i see you tonight?
you just throw your phone on the counter as you finish your food and wash your dishes out before going to bed. you reach down to pet your sleepy pup who is also ready for bed. you both travel to your bedroom, belly full and eyes heavy, ready for your head to hit the pillow. you strip off your clothes, throwing them on the floor, not even bothering to throw your laundry in the hamper. you look at abby’s message, wondering if you should reply or not, but you just let your mind drift off. 
in the middle of the night, your neighborhood stood silently as you tussled in bed, wrapping your legs in the sheets. you reach over the edge of your bed to feel your pup. their tongue tickles your fingertips and you smile into your pillow. your heart beats violently when you realize you didn’t close the window downstairs. in a blur you run down and close it, you peer out the window to see the leaves running away in the wind, it brings you some relief. 
you flop back in your bed and stroke your pup again to help you drift away. you feel their tongue caress your palm as you try and regulate your anxious mind. but then they didn’t stop and you became worried, you lean over the edge of your mattress, heart in your belly, and you see a woman in all black. she was lying under your bed, eyes closed, tongue wrapping around your fingertips. she had today's panties laced in between fingers pressed against her nose.
you tremble as you pull your hand away slowly and her eyes shoot open, her arms wrapped in a dark hoodie come from under the frame and she pulls herself up. you blink twice in attempts to see if this was one of those dreams when you’d open your mouth to scream and it was silent. 
“happy halloween,” she mutters from her mask and from initial examination, she didn’t have any weapons.
she brings her hand to the underside of the mask and removes it completely. the familiar face stunned you as you recognized it was your next-door neighbor, ellie. she came from the nicest house on the block, freshly repaved driveway and new cars adorning it, you couldn’t think of a reason why she would want to rob you. in this moment the memories of her flash before you as you two stand toe to toe. you had visited her house a few times for dinner with joel, who had introduced you to everyone in the neighborhood. but she would sit quietly and oftentimes just stare intensely at your face. 
“ellie, dont be rude.” joel would spit, and she would scurry off to her room. 
“ellie? what’s going on?”
“i watch you sometimes, dove. i knew you would be spending this wonderful day alone. i thought i should come and treat you.” 
“treat me how?” you feel a curiousness glaze over your anxious body. 
“i see her every time,” she begins to pace. “she comes over here, fucking you in my face.” 
“what?” 
your mind went blurry. 
“the blonde one.”
“abby?” 
she says walking towards you slowly. “do you remember that one time we almost fucked?” 
her hands come around your waist. “i do, ellie, i don't understand—”
“but then you said it would be weird because we live so close and if it ever went south…” 
her lips were close to your ear, you could hear her tongue snap against her teeth, and feel the heat brush gently against your cheek. her fingertips were playing a tracing game against your lower back. you recall the passionate kiss you both shared at the local bar, her desperate longing to just touch you in a tipsy frenzy. 
“i know, el.”
the florescent haze of headlights pulls into your driveway and interrupts the scene, blasting the sounds of call me little sunshine by ghost— it was abby. ellie’s face scrunched up as the familiar red pick-up shut cut off quickly. 
“what the fuck!” she groaned. 
“ellie, it’s okay, i can talk to her.” 
angrily, ellie snatched your wrist up in her hand and dragged you to the first floor. she shoved you towards the door where abby’s fist was pounding the glass. 
“get rid of her.” 
upon opening the door you see abby scouring the leftover candy in the bowl. she smiles with a faded look behind her eyes. “hi, baby.” 
you pretend to be normal, throw in a yawn, rub your eyes and she comes to pull you into her. her hands come around your ass as she’s one foot in the door already. her lips come to your neck, another leg in the door, and you shove her slyly. 
“what you don’t want to see me or something.” 
“abigail,” you say sternly. “not tonight.” 
she scuffs, “you didn’t get my text did you?” 
“i’ve been sleeping so no i didn’t get it.” 
“well i said, don’t reply if you want me to come see you.” she giggles. 
you grip her toned arms as she walks you backward into the corridor. ellie slams the door behind you both, which causes abby to step in front of you. 
“who is this?” she asks. 
you put your hand on her chest, “this is ellie, my neighbor, we were just about to—“ 
“what?” abby mutters, she gets so defensive that she doesn’t realize she how hard she forced you away. 
“wouldn't you like to know?” ellie smirks. 
in one swift motion, abby is gripping ellie by her hoodie and nearly lifting her off the ground. that’s when you step in between the both of them and make abby release her. 
“you can both have me, how about that?” 
𓆩⟡𓆪
all three of you sat on the edge of your bed. ellie’s hand slithered up towards your swollen cunt, while abby took your other leg and spread you open. ellie was more focused on getting as close to you as possible, desperate. she brought her lips to your cheek and gently pressed it against your feverish skin. she brings her red, bursting lips to yours and crashes into you. it was better than last time like she had been practicing. abby watched her, seeing where she could fit in, and began sucking on your neck. both your hands fall on their thighs, caressing them. 
“so how you wanna do this baby?” abby asks in a whisper. 
“ellie told me she’s been waiting for this. she watches us.” 
ellie looks slightly embarrassed at the fact, but abby smiles mischievously. 
“so you know how good she fucks me?” abby says. 
ellie nods silently, which leads you to then kiss her softly, bringing your tongue past her teeth into her mouth. she moaned obnoxiously at the taste of you. you bring your hands to her shoulders and lay her on her back while abby starts undressing herself. ellie watches you under the bright moon remove her black jeans to expose her nude, lace panties. she cups your face as you see how wet she had gotten throughout the night. 
you bring your hand up her drenched pussy and she trembles, swimming in her hoodie. “you look so cute.” 
she smiles nervously as you pull away her panties to view her swollen clit. abby sits at the head of the bed, completely undressed, skin tickled by the cool air, fingers brushing gently against her nipples, watching you both intently. you look up to her as you begin to bite ellie’s hot thighs. 
“come on, don't tease. fuck her.” abby spat. 
with no hesitation, you indulge in ellie’s sweet slick. she hoists herself up on her elbows to watch you suck on her clit. you knew she had been turned on all night so no foreplay was needed. abby had worked herself up by now rubbing her clit slowly, keeping her unwavering eye contact. ellie swallowed all her moans and flexed her belly at the pleasure your tongue was bringing her. 
she brought her hand up to your head and fucked your face, sloshing all her juices on the tip of your nose and chin. abby gets up and comes around your backside. she slaps your ass, which makes you choke a little. she spreads her lips and comes to the curvature of your ass and starts rubbing her clit against you. being used by the both of them at the same time made your pussy throb. 
“fuck, im so close dove.” ellie moans.
abby plants another smack on your ass, even harder this time. you give ellie two fingers, which instantly causes her to cum in your mouth, she pushed her cunt in your mouth so hard that when she removed it, you were breathless. 
“come here.” she says, dragging you over her body to kiss her. 
she drags her tongue all around your face, tasting herself. abby is now hovering over you both, not knowing if she should be angry or turned on. you crawl over to her and she takes a firm grasp of your neck and leans down to kiss you. she bites your bottom lip which makes you wince and you feel the weight of the bed shift under you as ellie brings her mouth to your ass. 
abby then stuffs your face into her core, lifting up one leg onto the bed so you can slip your tongue inside of her. 
“yes baby.” she melted. you liked when she got like that, submissive. 
“open up for me abs.” you muttered, which was a command you said to her often. while she pulled back her clit hood, ellie brought her mouth to your pussy, which made you moan into abby’s. ellie brought two fingers to your wet hole and started pounding you so hard your ass moved in waves. 
you remove your mouth away from abby’s body and start moaning ellie’s name while looking upwards to abby. she bit her lip out of anger and walked over to your closet to get your strap. she brought your lips up to the toy and commanded you to suck. you knew she hated hearing another woman’s name come from your lips. tears bulb in your eyes from feeling the length fill your mouth. 
once she pulls away, strings of spit coax your chin and abby shoves you on your back. ellie’s fingers popped out of you just when you were so close. abby teases your pussy with her tip and brings her hand to your throat. ellie’s eyebrows knit together, jealous at abby’s dominance. she slips her hand to your clit as abby enters you. 
“say it.” abby said. 
“ellie,” you mewl, leaning over to bring her lips to yours. 
that’s when abby grunts as she presses down on you, making your pussy swallow every inch. 
“spit in my mouth ellie, let me taste you.”
ellie doesn’t hesitate to perch her lips and allow her spit to spread over your tongue, the sight alone makes abby pound harder. she brings her hand to your cheeks and makes you watch her, pulling you away from ellie. you can’t help but pull her in deeper as she slaps into your bruised cunt. ellie wraps her lips sloppily around your nipple and bites it without any warning. you yelp at the mixture of pain both women are putting you in, but it feels so good. your pussy is aching to cum as abby purposely bruises your cervix. abby wraps your legs around her waist and lays her full body weight on top of you, her hips cracking against your thighs. 
“abby! please.” you yell. 
“that’s right scream for me, c’mon.” she says in your ear, sweat dripping onto your neck. 
you twitch under the presser and come so hard that your eyes roll in the back of your head. abby and ellie don’t stop until your legs shake and you try and find the power to push them both away. you twitch at feeling the strap exit your abused hole, feeling gapped, as ellie leaned in to plant a final kiss on your lips. abby exhales and lays beside you and you turn to kiss her too, in disbelief that you’re fucked out of your mind. 
↓ if you don't know this urban legend here's the original! ↓
tw: mentions of pet death, blood, breaking, and entering, & l*nching.
Once there was a nice old lady who had a lovely little dog. One day, the old lady heard on the radio that a crazy murderer had escaped from jail and that she should lock all her doors and windows. So she locked every door and window in the house except one tiny one to let some air in. No murderer would ever get in through there! So that night she went to bed as usual. She knew everything was okay because when she put down her hand the dog licked it. But later in the night, she heard a drip, drip, drip. She put her hand down and the dog licked it. She felt that everything was okay but the dripping was annoying her, so she went downstairs to check on the tap. But the tap wasn’t dripping. So she went to bed again. She woke up again later in the night and thought the dripping sound was coming from the shower. She went into the bathroom, and there was her dog, dead, hanging in the shower, and dripping blood. Written on the mirror in blood was: ‘Humans can lick too!
786 notes · View notes
thetriplets3 · 2 months
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When you're about to cry and he does that "hey, hey" thing
please do this with chris
❝𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬❞
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chris and i have been together for almost 4 months now having met at a small get together of a mutual friend, which when it comes to them a small get together turns into a party.
-flashback-
i had wandered off starting to feel overwhelmed from the constant talking around me. soon enough i found myself in a room that was turned into a makeshift music studio. the room felt inviting and safe for me to hid in for a while. any open space that wasn’t cover with furniture of some kind was filled with more plants than i could name. the warm soft light beckoned me to make myself comfortable, choosing a bean bag nestled in the corner for an extra sense of security. i curled into myself getting comfy figuring it’d be a while till my friend wanted to go home since i went with her. shutting my eyes i listened to the soft sound of the music playing from the other side of the house. the sound of the mini fridge closing startled me, snapping me back to reality.
“oh shit my bad i didn’t think anyone would be here sorry if i scare you. i was just grabbing a pepsi and was hang out here for a bit but i can go if you wanna be alone i mean you came up here for a reason”
“no no you’re good you can stay i just needed to get away from the crowd it was too much for me. so much for a small get together i should have expected this”
“i get that that’s why i came up here. want a drink? there’s pepsi, root beer, water or iced tea?”
“iced tea please”
he grabbed my drink and made himself comfortable on the adjacent bean bag and didn’t hesitate to ask if i was okay and if i needed anything having heard me mention the party was getting too much for me. i had just met him and he wanted to make sure i was okay, something about that just warmed my heart how concerned he was. we began talking about how we knew the host and the more we talked the more we realized how much we had in common. i’m usually wary of men joining me if i’m alone at a party, you can’t trust everyone most of the time they’re drunk or have some weird intention, but something about chris just made me feel automatically safe. before i knew it it was 4 hours later my friend came in the room outta breath complaining how she’d looked everywhere for me and that she’s ready to go home. not wanting to keep her waiting any longer but also not wanting to leave chris, i begrudgingly get up from my comfy spot.
“i’m sorry i’ve gotta go she’s my ride. thanks for keeping me company i really liked talking to you”
“me too. would i be able to get your number? i’d love to see you again if that’s not too forward”
-5 months later-
safe to say i gave him my number. when we first started dating we both opened up about being hesitant of relationships seeing as it’s my first one and he’d been hurt before, the whole idea of dating was unfamiliar to us but we worked through it and i think getting all of our worries and insecurities out really strengthen our relationship.
despite bring together for a few months he’s yet to see me cry which i know isn’t a big deal but that’s just who i am. i’m a sensitive person but i hold it in and break when i’m alone. i was always a very emotional empathetic child the slightest thing made me cry whether it be sad or happy tears. constantly being told “stop crying” or “you’re crying over that?” really got to me now i try and keep my emotions in.
sure chris has seen me get upset or worked up about something so silly. one time i was putting the dishes away and could hardly reach the mug shelf but nonetheless i tried putting a mug in a spot that looked like it’d fit and pushed it a little too hard knocking the mug i made for chris when i did a pottery class on a friends birthday. the mug was coming straight towards i tried catching it but couldn’t and it landed on the ground with a loud smash. tears instantly pricked my eyes seeing the cup i was so proud of smashed to pieces.
third person
chris was playing video games in the living room with his headset on, one ear slightly uncovered so he could listen to you softly sing to your music finding comfort in your voice and presence. a shattering sound followed by your silence had him ripping his headset off and running to the kitchen to see you with the saddest frown on your face and your breathing picking up. rushing over to you he kicks the remnants of the mug out of the way.
-your pov-
“what happened? are you okay? are you hurt? did you step on any pieces?” his voice filled with concern as his eyes dart across my face for any signs of hurt.
“your mug. i broke your mug” my voice so quiet it’s barely audible but the cracks in it indicating in close to tears.
“oh baby it’s okay it’s just a mug i can get another one as long as you’re okay i’m not concerned about the mug. are you okay?” he says lifting my chin drawing my attention to him instead of the tragedy on the floor.
“but it’s the mug i made you your favorite mug and i just smashed it to pieces i’m sorry i shouldn’t have tried reaching when i knew i couldn’t. i broke your mug” i spew out apologies as tears start escaping my eyes.
“hey hey no tears baby. look at me forget about the mug for a sec i care more about you right now, are you okay?” he says cupping my cheeks as his thumbs rub across my cheeks in a soothing manner, wiping away tears as they fell.
“yes i’m okay”
“good i’m glad” he says as he lifts me onto the counter away from the shards and stands between my legs. “i’m not upset about the mug baby. yes it was my favorite mug but only because i know you made it and i loved how excited you were that you made a mug on your first try making pottery. it melted my heart that you could have made anything and you immediately thought to make something for me. it was the thought and love that went into the mug that made me love it. things are replaceable no need to get upset i’m glad you didn’t get hurt. i appreciate you putting the dishes away you didn’t have to do that”
“you had a busy week i just wanted you to relax and not have to deal with the dishes but then i made a whole scene and- and i- your mug” my voice falters, eyes still watery.
“nope don’t wanna hear it pretty girl i’m not upset or mad don’t worry about it okay. i’ll clean it up. how about for our next date we do pottery huh how’s that sound? then i can make you something too i have ideas already”
“i love you thank you for being so gentle with me and my silly feelings”
“i’d never get upset or over something like this or anything really. it’s not silly for you to be upset over this i know you were proud of it you’re allowed to be sad. i love you and i think it’s beautiful that you have the capacity to feel things so deeply” he wraps his arms around body one arm holding my head to his chest as he plants kisses to my hair.
i love the way he loves me
taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs @strniolo @abbie13sworld @luvsturniolo
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ceruleancattail · 6 months
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hi!! I've been a fan of your works for the longest time!! could i request an airheaded yuu who doesn't know what they're doing half the time but they can say something randomly philosophical once in a blue moon that keeps you up at night with Riddle, Ace and Deuce? gender-neutral reader please! i thought of this one while going to bed last night so apologies if it's incomprehensible skdjksdfjkfksd
thank you!
🍭anon
Omg this was so silly… thank you so much for your request, 🍭anon! I Hope you like this!!!
Riddle, Ace and Deuce with an air-headed s/o that keeps them up at night…. (With questions)
Riddle x reader, Ace x reader, Deuce x reader
Riddle
A pair of crimson eyes tend to linger on your every step , whenever you stroll by the Heartsabyul dorm. The careful, watchful eyes of your schoolmate, Riddle Rosehearts. He is no stranger to the antics you pull, no matter if they were intended or not.
Riddle finds his reaction time improving by leaps and bounds whenever he hears your surprise. Immediately rushing to your side, ready to extract you out of whatever trouble you saw fit to land yourself in this time.
Both of his hands have long mastered the art of sliding around your waist, yanking in one smooth, fluid motion. Sometimes, the momentum gets the better of both of you, and you end up tumbling straight into his arms.
Clutching onto his shoulders, you hold him tight. Standing there in each other’s embrace, you two strike the perfect image of star-crossed lovers.
Riddle can’t help the way his lips slip upwards. A smile as sweet as ruby-red strawberry tarts. Honestly, prefect. You do enjoy having him on the edge, don’t you?
He still fusses quite a bit, though. Don’t expect to escape without a lecture. However, for all the words that fall from his lips, yours seem to have the most impact.
Odd, queer questions that would have never crossed his mind. You seem to have a knack for thinking of things people wouldn’t normally. Sometimes, he finds himself up at night pondering your queries.
Always full of surprises, aren’t you, darling?
“Hey, Riddle. Why is it that people say they "slept like a baby" when babies wake up, like, every two hours?”
“I… honestly can’t say. Perhaps it would be the peacefulness and tranquility they sleep with… no matter how brief.”
Ace
You’ll soon grow used to a weight pressing onto your shoulders. Slinging an arm around you, Ace tends to lean into you quite a bit. He tags along wherever you go, that insufferable smirk never far from his lips.
Of course, it drops as quickly as it appears whenever he has to run to wherever you’ve wandered off this time. Ace has heard of air-minded people, but this is the first time he had to deal with one. There ain’t nothing but fluff and feathers up there, huh?
For all his teasing, Ace always is there to yank you out of whatever trouble you’ve stirred up. His arm stretching out, wrapping tightly around your torso. You could feel every pulse beating through his skin as Ace pulls you close. Out of harm’s reach.
Man, have you never heard? Curiosity killed the cat. You’re so lucky he was around to help you out. So how about a kiss, for all that effort?
Speaking of effort, you’ve made Ace burn more brainpower then the entire Night Raven curriculum has in an entire year. You had a weird fondness for weird questions that keep him tossing and turning in his sleep. Do you enjoy causing him sleepless nights?
There’s really no need for the questions, then.
He’s already thinking about you all the time.
“If money doesn't grow on trees, why do banks have branches?”
“You have no idea how bad I want to kiss you right now.”
Deuce
For most of his misguided youth, Deuce was always the one charging forth, headstrong. Never stopping to think about the consequences. He would have called it courage, back then.
Now watching you leap mindlessly into mess after mess, he’s changed his mind. Deuce trails after you like a lost puppy, following your every step. His curiosity often aligns with yours, although Deuce has to admire your… bravery for just going straight in. Whenever someone catches your interest, off you go! Without a care in the world.
Sometimes, that curiosity takes you too far. Then, Deuce springs into action. Honestly, he should start timing his sprinting towards you. Deuce swears he never runs this fast on the track.
He isn’t one for niceties whenever you’re under the slightest hint of danger. Arms stretched out, he’s tackling you straight out of the hit-zone. Mid-air, Deuce’s arms snake around your torso, clutching you in an tight embrace. His own back, your shield keeping you from all harm.
Both of you end up on the floor, a panting Deuce above of you. His hands pat your face frantically, words coming out in broken, jerky stammers. You have to assure him that you’re alright before his shoulders even think about starting to relax.
He’s just happy you’re ok.
Well, Deuce would be a bit lonely at night if you got hurt. He tends to call you from his dorm for homework help, although the conversations tend to drift elsewhere most of the time. Specifically, your odd questions.
Deuce’s drawing out entire diagrams, and both of you spend hours over the phone, discussing various fantastic theories. Each one more weirder then the last.
Deuce never thought he’ll have so much fun just talking.
You’re just special, aren’t you?
“Do married people live longer than single ones or does it only seem longer?”
“Hold up, I’m opening my laptop right now-“
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sserpente · 7 months
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A/N: This is short and silly and I enjoyed every second of writing it.
Words: 685 Warnings: none
You sighed as you let your head fall back to admire the stars. Thousands of piercing little lights dotting the night sky. It was rather beautiful, and for the first time ever since you had gotten into this mess (and a tadpole had gotten into you), you felt… content.
Perhaps it was because despite all this—you let your gaze wander over the campsite—fate decided to give something back. Someone. Your eyes found Astarion, brooding over one of the books you had recently picked up. Gods, you longed to take a bite right out of him the way he stood there in those tight and dark trousers and his white cotton shirt. It was quite incredible this handsome man… vampire spawn… liked you back. Not only that but you had mutated into his… lifeline, so to speak. Absentmindedly, you brought your hand to your neck, fingertips ghosting over the two puncture wounds his fangs had left behind last night. It had become a pleasurable and enjoyable ritual for you both now.
You’d have dinner with the others and at night, once everyone else was asleep, Astarion would get his fill and have supper for himself.
Another sigh. Dinner had been quite amazing and filling today. Gale had volunteered to cook after you found a crate full of abandoned supplies. Potato chips, carrot soup, garlic bread, and even lasagne… a chef would have slapped his palm against his forehead at the combination of all of these things for one evening but alas… you hadn’t eaten this much in over a week.
You were practically drunk on a full belly and that was before having a glass of wine already. Speaking of which… grabbing your empty glass, you got up from your bedroll, sauntering over to Astarion’s tent.
His head lifted as soon as he sensed you—and you actually liked to think that he could smell you, your blood, before he could hear or see you. A slight smile played on his lips when your eyes locked and he shut the book in his hands, putting it aside.
“Have a glass with me?” you offered, tilting your head as you waved the chalice in the air.
“Oh? Are we celebrating something, darling?”
“No… I’m just in a really good mood today.”
Astarion smirked in response and reached for the bottle of elven wine on the small table next to his tent.
“Well, given the current state of things, I’ll drink to that,” he purred, filling both your glasses. You clinked them, each taking a big sip before the vampire spawn took yours from you and set them both aside along with the bottle.
“Now would you say… you’re also in the mood for a bit of fun tonight?”
You grinned when he pulled you close, his face only inches from yours. “I thought you’d never ask.”
You closed your eyes, allowing him to lean forward and capture your lips in a hungry kiss.
“Ow! Gods, damn it!”
All of a sudden, as if stung by an adder, Astarion released you, half-blowing raspberries and cursing as he coughed as if you had poisoned him.
“What… are you alright? What happened? Oh… oh gods!” Realisation hit you only a second after.
“Oh no… Gale made garlic bread tonight! I completely forgot you can’t… oh, Astarion, I am so sorry. Let me have a look, is it bad?”
“I’m fine! It’s not going to kill me, it just… burns. Gods!” A few more curses followed as he brought his fingertips to his lips, assessing the damage done.
“I’ll go rinse my mouth, alright? I’ll be right back.”
The sound of acknowledgment he made was hardly an answer. It was enough for you to turn back around though, your cheeks hurting from how hard you were holding back a grin.
“It could be worse… I mean… I could have put my lips elsewhere.”
“Very funny, darling.” Still, there was a hint of amusement swinging in his voice and you certainly couldn’t help the little chuckle forcing its way out of your throat. He had to admit… it was hilarious.
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A/N: I'm on my second playthrough as Durge right now and I realised one thing about myself: As much as I love villains and misunderstood bad guys, I'm really bad at being evil. 😂 I feel soo bad every time I make a mean decision, hahaha!
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Just a "lil" silly request but can I request a werewolf! Miguel with Kitsune! Reader. Probably some wholesome hcs or a story with them with their newly born children. It's up to you if you wanna add some soft lewd into it or not.
A/N: this sounds kinda cute
Werewolf!Miguel x Kitsune(fox)Reader!
When the two of you first met, you were laying in the middle of the forest, injured. You were in fox form and had gotten into a hunter's trap. You managed to escape and ran far, entering your human form and laying against a tree trunk, nursing your injured ankle.
You were suspectable to predators, considering you were a bit smaller and hardly know how to defend yourself. You bring leaves to surround yourself to mask the scent of your blood, hoping it'll work. It worked for awhile as you tended to your ankle, turning into your fox form to lick your wound and whimper. Unfortunately, there was one nose that had a good sense of smell. A wolf.
You could smell the strong scent from nearly a smile away, and it was closing in quick. You attempted to run out of sheer panic, but your injured foot slowed you down. Soon, you came face to face with the large predator. He loomed over you, wind rustling his blue fur, red eyes fixated on you. You cowered to the ground, ears flat against your head, making noise of distress as he inched closer.
You shut your eyes when his wet nose sniffed you, and yelped when his teeth dug gently into your scruff and lifted you up off the ground. He carried you to his den, and you noticed he was a lone wolf. You kept trembling, whimpering, scared that these were your last moments. Up until he laid you down on his nest and shifted into his human form.
The wolf stood at 6'9, body hairy and muscles rippling. "It's okay," he said gently, squatting down, reaching out a hand to scratch the spot behind your ear, "I'm not going to hurt you."
He's a wolf. A lone wolf at that. He could hurt you. But his eyes were gentle, even if his expression remained neutral. So, you shifted back into your human form, covering your bare breasts. That night, the wolf-named Miguel-tended your foot and brought you bird to eat.
From there, a relationship blossomed.
In fox form, you laid on his back as he trudged through the thick brush of the forest, hunting down meek prey or going to a lake to bathe. You quite enjoyed relaxing on his huge body in both animal form and human form. He was big, warm, and inviting. He never minded the company either. He quite enjoyed having you around.
Miguel one day brought you the pelt of a elk, presenting it as a gift, as a way of asking for you to me his mate. Which you accepted and worn it in your human form.
Miguel became extra protective once you became his mate. He growled if anything came near the cave or walked too close to you, looking out for any threats.
As humans, he hugged you close, littering you in kisses, adoring you.
The sex? Holy fuck. You two only fucked in human form, and boy, did Miguel go crazy. Especially when he fell into a rut. He fucked you for hours, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you, and once he's knotted, he'll calm own long enough to tend to you, right before his mind is overrun in lust and he obliterates your pussy.
He always took care of you after, especially after his ruts. Miguel felt bad for putting you through that, but you enjoyed it. Told him he had no reason to worry, but he always worried. You were precious to him, and he the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.
Then you fell pregnant and he was all over you. Making sure you ate enough food, brought you enough water, stood guard at the entrance of the cave and scaring anything away. You gave birth to two kids, a boy and a girl, and you loved them so much. They were hybrids, a mix of a fox and wolf.
Miguel praised you for doing a wonderful job for the labor, and made sure you recovered from the long labor. He took good care of his family, even deciding to merge into human society. The kids had to get used to staying in human form and going to school, and you staying at home to be a dutiful house wife, and Miguel getting a job.
It was a rough transition, but you guys managed.
Sometimes you wondered how that day would've gone differently. The day you were injured. If Miguel either ate you or never found you, or if you never got injured. Would life be the same? Different? So many possibilities, but as you did dishes, staring out the window to watch the children play, you smile.
Miguel comes up behind you and hugs you, kissing your neck. "What are you thinking about, my love?"
You turn around and hug him, sighing softly. "Nothing, my love." You squeal when he spins you around and drowns you in kisses, swatting at his chest when you got water on your brand new clothes.
Yeah, life is great.
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cringe-but-proud · 4 months
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I was wondering if you can write for Wonka (2023) x reader where reader is a Baker and meets wonka. This can take place after the movie and where both reader and wonka decided to work together to create a pastry that involves chocolate. So they start brainstorming and working in the kitchen and it just ends in a mess where both reader and wonka are cover in dough and flour and ingredients. Like Yk those basic movies scenes where the girl swipes dough onto the man’s face and all over a sudden food fight is what I had in mind 😅
This is so corny, I love it.
Willy Wonka x gn!baker!Reader (Wonka 2023)
A/n: My requests are open (see pinned post for info) 😈
Warnings: None, I think 🤷
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After coming to your bakery for the first time, Willy became a big fan. He'd come by at least once a week and insist that you were the best baker in town.
You disagreed. If you really were the best baker in town, people would've noticed already. You were still stuck in your little hole in the wall bakery where you struggled to make enough money to feed yourself.
But, Willy seemed sure of it. So sure of it, that he offered to help grow your business.
"We should team up." He said to you one day while sitting at the counter of your shop.
You furrowed your brows in confusion. "To do what?"
"To promote your bakery!" He beamed. "My chocolate is popular. If you and I teamed up to make... Some chocolate pastry, I could promote it for you, people would come to your bakery, and everyone would realize how amazing you are!"
You paused. "Did you just come up with all of that now?"
"I was up all night brainstorming ideas."
"That's what I thought."
"Well, what do you think? Do you wanna try it?"
You thought about it. It wasn't a bad idea. And it's not like you had any customers to serve right now. "Alright, let's do it."
The two of you decided to make chocolate chip cookies. Simple, but delicious.
The plan was to use your regular cookie recipe, but Willy would be making any of the chocolate that was needed.
As soon as your shop closed, the two of you got to work.
"Alright, you mix the dry ingredients while I cream butter and sugar." You instructed him as you set out all the ingredients.
His job was simple enough, and everything was going smoothly at first.
Key words: At first.
"I'll chop up the chocolate you made, and you can knead the dough." You said as you slid the bowl that the dough was in over to him.
Willy hesitated. "How do I do that?"
You blinked. Had he never made cookies before? That would be a bit surprising considering his love for all things sweet.
"Well, first flour your surface.''
He slowly got some flour, sprinkled it on the counter, and spread it out.
"And now just..." You gently took his hands and guided them as you showed him how to knead the dough. "Like that." You looked up at him to make sure he understood and realized he was already looking at you, a light blush dusting his cheeks.
You returned the slightly flustered look before uttering "Does that make sense?"
He broke out of his daze and nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. Thank you."
You quickly averted your attention away from him, focusing on chopping up the chocolate for the cookies.
Turns out you were a bit too focused on your task, because when you looked back over to Willy, you realized that he'd managed to get flour all over himself. You couldn't help but giggle at how messy he was.
He turned to look at you and smiled. "What is it?"
"You're covered it flour." You informed him.
He chuckled. "I'm trying, alright?"
"I'm not saying you're not trying! I'm saying you look silly!" You laughed.
"Oh, yeah? Well, your hands are covered in chocolate." He pointed out.
You reached up and swiped your thumb down the bridge of his nose, smearing chocolate on to his skin. He retorted by taking some flour and throwing it at you. You gasped and did the same back to him. When he did it again, you retaliated by getting a small piece of the dough and flinging it at him.
One thing led to another, and there was now a full on food fight going on.
You ducked behind the counter and threw a few pieces of chocolate at him. He suddenly ran over holding all of the dough that was left. He raised an arm, about to throw it at you when you screamed. "I surrender! I surrender!" You were laughing so hard you thought you might cry. He put the dough back on the counter and sat next to you. You both caught your breath, occasionally giggling at how messy you both were.
"Sorry we didn't get the cookies finished." He said after a few moments of comfortable silence.
"It's alright." You brushed him off. "We can always try again, right?"
"Right." He nodded as he smiled contently at you.
...
"You're still helping me clean this all up, though."
"Yeah, I know."
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bugs1nmybrain · 6 months
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Mall Slut ~ Shigaraki x Reader
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Summary: Shigaraki and the reader go to the dispensary in the mall, get stoned, and get really horny. So they fuck.
Author's Notes: I've been contemplating writing this fic for a while. It's a silly concept to me, and I wish I could live this fantasy irl to be honest. The reader has specific physical and personality characteristics, they're meant to resemble me
Traits About the Reader: she/her pronouns, fem presenting and an afab body, alternative aesthetic, big ass, short
Warnings: NSFW (18+ MDNI), fem reader, drug use (marijuana), Tomura is a bad influence, sex while stoned, bathroom sex, spanking, exhibitionism, Shigaraki has blue hair, brat taming, wrote this while stoned, POV swings, Shigaraki calls the reader a slut, squirting, daddy kink, reader is resistant to Tomura's quirk
Going to the mall was one of Tomura's most frequent pastimes, when he wasn't too busy being pissed off at hero society. Sometimes, he'd simply let himself throw a hoodie on so no one would recognize him, and get out a bit. Maybe check out some game stores, maybe a hot topic if he was feeling desperate for merch. However, one spot in the mall was his favorite, for reasons. And no, it wasn't Spencers.
"You'd be surprised by the deals they have here," Tomura commented as you both strolled your way down the crowded mall. You dodged some idiots who didn't look where they were walking, almost bumping into you. Tomura's face lit up with evident annoyance, but you simply tugged on his arm and kept walking.
The effect you had on him was criminal, he'd say. How such an abrasive, pessimistic, and irritable man could be railed in by one cute little alt girl with a fat ass.
Seriously, you always had to wear the sluttiest skirts that showed off your thighs and hips. Very unfair in his opinion.
You two had finally reached the dispensary, by the name of "Garden Aromas." Good weed store name. You two entered in to see a few people roaming around, looking at products. There was a decent line forming.
"I'm thinking carts," Tomura says, leading both of you straight to the vape section.
"You have that kind of money?" you asked, knowing how expensive that shit is.
"It's fine. I got lent some cash from Kurogiri and I also found a wallet on the ground the other day. I've got money."
"What kind, then?"
"You choose."
You eyeballed the selection of strains. You were at the mall, so nothing to make you sleepy. Or too cognitively impaired. You could very well ask the budtender what he'd recommend, but you hated talking to strangers.
"Me?"
"Who the fuck else would I be talking to?"
"Mimosa."
"Pick one more, between you and I that will be gone in less than a day."
"Fuck..uh..strawberry cough."
"Aight."
Tomura and you waited in line for a bit before coming up to the counter. You told the seller what strains you wanted so he could grab them from their locked casing. You brought out your medicinal card (Tomura didn't have one) and kaching.
The carts went into a special bag and handed over to you, but Tomura took the bag from your hands as soon as it ended up in them. As you two exited the store, Tomura went roaming around in his black backpack that he brought, quickly pulling out the battery to a dab pen. He takes one of the carts from it's packaging and attaches it to the battery before taking a brief hit from it.
"Uh..we're out here," you comment, nerved by the fact that someone could see Tomura hitting the pen out in the open, not bothering to censor himself.
"It's fine. No one will care, as long as it's not in front of one of those mall cops. Most people would probably think it's nicotine, anyways."
"I guess you have a point."
"Of course I do. Here."
Tomura shoved the pen in your hand. You two were currently at a fountain. You took a hit from the pen, not really thinking about how much you were inhaling. As soon as you exhaled, you coughed up a storm, and if you two weren't standing out before, you surely were now.
"Haha!" Tomura cackles. He always got a kick out of your amateur lungs. "People are gonna think you're sick. We should find a better spot."
"y.." you were starting to feel it coming. "yea."
"Come on. I know where to go."
"Okee."
You were sooo stoned. Just from that one dreadful hit. You tried to wrap your head around your surroundings as Tomura pulled you around the mall. Not only were you stoned, but you were also pretty short. If you'd let him he'd probably keep you on a damn leash all the time; you were simply too easy to lose.
"Where are we going, Tomura?"
"Here."
You hadn't been paying much attention to the direction you were walking. Tomura stopped in front of the restrooms and was now dragging you to the men's bathroom. It didn't smell the best. Tomura stopped a little bit before the entrance and glanced in to see if there was anyone in.
"We're good. Come on."
There weren't many stalls in this bathroom, only two and then many urinals. Tomura placed his hand on your back and guided you to the farthest stall, locking the door behind him. It was a big stall, thankfully. Tomura took out the pen once more and clicked on the button to activate it. He pulled for a long time. When he finally stopped, he held the vape in his lungs for a couple seconds before exhaling.
"This hits nice. I've always considered it relaxing," he says, twirling the pen in his hands as he simply stared at it, and continued to talk to you. "How are you feeling? Are you fucked up?"
"I'm stoned, yea."
"Anything more special than that?"
"I mean. You look cute right now. Like cuter than usual. I don't know if it's because I'm stoned but..you're cute."
He stood there in awe, not expecting that response. You didn't either, it just came out. It was true though, as you allowed yourself to look at Tomura's face, or at least what you could see with his hoodie on, you became reminded of how much you adore him. His shaggy blue hair, blood-red eyes, and dry skin all were traits about him you found especially alluring. Some people wouldn't understand the dry skin part, but it was a staple of Tomura's. You couldn't really imagine him with smooth skin. It wasn't a bother, he looked like him, which was perfect for you.
"You're definitely high," Tomura shrugs, slumping back on the door. "You need to get your eyes checked."
"Nuh-uh. You're cute."
"You're a liar, then."
"I'm being for real," you reached out and without thought, wrapped your arms around Tomura and rested your head comfortably underneath his chin. "You're snuggly, too."
"You and I clearly are not smoking the same shit."
"It's vape."
"Shut up."
He put up this fight and displayed himself as if he was annoyed, but he never pushed you away or tensed up as if he was uncomfortable. In fact, the embrace soothed him in a way. It almost pissed him off, knowing how much of a damaged and deranged person he is, and knowing that at the end of the day, you still give him the warmest hugs and call him silly.
"You know..your boobs are pushing against me."
"Eheheh...should I move away?"
"Rnn...no, I guess not."
With that response, you held him even tighter, nuzzling your face at his neck.
He smelt nice. Well, maybe not "nice." Tomura wasn't the freshest guy. He wasn't utterly disgusting, and he didn't smell intolerable, just a little funky. It was a natural musk that calmed you, because the smell was his alone, and comforted you.
His smell was making you feel...clingy. Not to mention his form pressing against you. Tomura's temperature was confusing. To the touch, he's often chilly. However, when you're caught in each other's embrace he seems like a furnace.
"Y/N.."
"What?"
"I have a semi."
You backed up a little and looked down at his crotch. Surely, there was a bit of a bulge. He always wore slim-fit pants so it wasn't hard (ha) to tell when he had a boner. Without consideration about your location, you instinctively went to fumble his bulge through his pants, giving you a startled response from Tomura.
"Hey, if you start that, you know how it'll end."
"I know."
You could swear you felt Tomura's bulge move a little when you said that. You being a little brat never failed to ignite something in him.
"Is that right?" Shiggy flirted. "Then are you gonna be a good girl about it?"
Your face was already flushed from the weed, but now it was even worse. You nodded with a whimper. Tomura watched as you pulled down his boxers, his dick wobbling out afterwards.
Eagerly, you gripped his cock and stroked it in pace, triggering a satisfied grunt from Tomura. You were such a perfect slut for him. He thought to himself that you were doing this on purpose. Touching him in the bathroom like this. Did you want to get fucked in a public bathroom? For people to hear as he made you weak? Heh...
He was going to test this hypothesis.
Shigaraki reached out to stroke your hair a little, tucking your strands behind your ears. His eyes remained lidded, looking at you with lust. He wanted to take you right now, but he wanted to make you all cute and horny for him first. He knew how to get you that way, too.
"Care to give me a show?"
"Hm?"
"Don't hm me. Let me see how pretty you are without that shirt on, hm?"
You blushed and darted your eyes down to his cock to avoid looking at him in the eyes. He giggles at your adorable, shy demeanor. After snickering at his needy request, you tug your shirt over your head clumsily, revealing your black push-up.
"That's coming off too, I hope?"
"Where are your manners?"
"Pllleeeeeeaaaaassseeee?"
And down came your bra. And weren't you a sight for sore eyes? Not only did Tomura adore your tits, you were also accompanied by a pretty black shirt. Easy access. He slid his hands in between your thighs, grazing your panties with his fingers.
"You're wet, hehe..." sometimes when you smoked you got soaked much quicker and easier. It probably had something to do with the sensory processing that came with being high, but it worked in Tomura's favor.
"Mmm.."
How cute. Already whimpering for him and he hasn't done anything to you. You kept stroking Tomura's cock as you had been while he took your face in his hands and kissed you with hunger. It caused you to let go of his cock and lean closer into his embrace, pulling at his sweatshirt while you kissed. Tomura was a bit disappointed at the absence of your hand but distracted himself by reaching behind to grab your ass.
He moved his hands to your waist and held you firmly. He then proceeded to readjust the both of you, so that you were facing away from him. He made sure to let you lean against a wall for support. Tomura flicked your pretty skirt up to reveal your even prettier panties. Soft and lacey and colored black.
Too bad that your pussy was even prettier because your panties didn't remain on for much longer. Tomura pulled them off your ass, watching them drop to your ankles. He touched your pussy, stroking from your clit to your pussy lips. You were drenched, even just the slightest touch, and his fingers ended up sticky. He plunged two fingers into your core and rubbed your g spot perfectly.
"HmMM!!"
"Shhh...be a good slut and keep your voice down."
"Mhmm.."
Shiggy pulls his fingers out and goes back to your clit, rubbing it in swift motion, making you tremble for him.
"That feel good? Or are you just stoned?"
"Tomura..please...a little more."
He took a free hand and toyed with your nipple while he fingered you, burying his face in your neck from behind as he did so. His relentless stimulation drove you to a familiar feeling much quicker than you expected.
"MmMMm~!"
"Hehe...such a good little whore. I can feel your clit twitching on my fingers and everything."
"It's your fault!"
"MY fault? Who's the one walking around in these little miniskirts, pushing her tits up against me and grabbing my dick?"
His fingers got faster and more calculated and you could feel yourself beginning to cum.
"Aa-aawwh..."
"Ehehehe... good whore." Tomura kissed your neck while you came on his fingers, clit pulsing against the pads of them.
Tomura gave you a kiss on the neck as he allowed your pussy a few seconds of recovery. He began rubbing his dick along your slit soon after, eliciting a small yelp of surprise from you.
Then, you heard the sounds of someone's footsteps walking in. You tensed up a bit, worried about what their reaction would be, but your arousal caused you to gravitate your ass closer to Tomura, and he sank his cock all the way into your wet cunt.
"Ah!"
"Mmm..hehehe...shh..can't be too loud, can ya?"
Tomura began thrusting in and out of your pussy, trying to be discreet. It was hard, though, because the bathroom echoed at the slightest noise and Tomura couldn't control how his hips bucked against your ass. His feral desire felt himself become hungry at the sight of your ass jiggling as he thrusts into you. His pace becomes rougher, as he tries to recreate the image again and again.
"t-tomura.."
He doesn't say anything, but Tomura grunts again, this time adding in some heavy breaths and sighs. You looked so hot right now, and he fucking adored how you whined for him as he fucked you for any man in the mall to hear.
You heard a flush of the urinal but the person did not wash their hands from what you could tell. He could've been gross, but maybe he just wanted to get away from what you and Tomura were doing a bad job at hiding.
There (probably) wasn't anyone else in the bathroom now, so Tomura gave up all restraint on your cunt. He grips your waist and bounces you on his cock. As he watches your pretty ass do it's thing, he lands a swift smack on it.
"AH!"
"You're so hot..fuck.."
Your ass was red now, and Tomura would've almost felt bad if he wasn't such a sadist. He rubs it tenderly to soothe you, as he perceives that as his way of being "nice." It doesn't take long until he smacks it again, though, cock leaking at how you'd yelp at the attack.
"Tomura...I'm gonna.."
He didn't know what you were gonna do, but he was gonna make you scream while you did it. He plunged his cock in and out of you rapidly, angling it to rub your g-spot deeply, kissing your cervix while he did so.
"Awwh!~"
Suddenly, a small amount of clear fluid squirted out from your pussy, now leaking down from your thighs.
"Did you just piss?" Shiggy asks as if he's disgusted, but makes no effort to stop or even slow down the pace.
"I-I don't know!"
"Did my cute little girl squirt for daddy, then?"
"Rnn...mhm.." you weren't sure if he could see you nodding, but he was about to cum. You could tell by how deeper, faster, and uncoordinated his thrusts became.
"Aw..fuck I love you.."
"Mmm?"
"You know what I said.." His hips buck against your ass some more, but Tomura finally lets out a geeky groan, cumming deep inside of you. His cum seeps deep in you and as he pulls out, a little trail strings out as well.
"Hehe..."
You were panting like a dog, leaning your arms against the wall for balance. Shigaraki tucks his cock back in his boxers, and then reaches to grab the pen again. You weren't facing him, but you could see a puffy cloud form in front of your face. You turn around to see him ripping the pen and then offering it to you.
"Here's your aftercare."
"That's so romantic of you, Tomura."
"Uh-huh. Wanna go get some food?"
"Yea."
You took the pen from Tomura and took a hit yourself. The adrenaline from the sex mixed with your intoxication made you feel heavy, but Tomura's company provided you with a sense of safety. Which was funny, considering this whole mall would shut down if anyone knew he was here.
"I want ramen."
"I want a kiss."
"Damn, come here then, loser."
Tomura caves into your soft nature and leans down for short but sweet kiss. His lips were chapped, per usual, but they were still supple somehow. He was also very affectionate with his tongue.
He pulls away and opens the door, cocking his head to signal you to get out. As you both walked out you saw as someone was standing at the mirrors, typing on his phone. How long was he there? Tomura pays no bother and pulls you out of the bathroom, and you make your way to the food court.
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