Tumgik
#unconditional love♡
atsumwah · 1 year
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hanma : i'd kill for you ♡
y/n : ...
hanma : please ask me to kill for you
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creatively-cosmic · 29 days
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POSTGAME
Red has won the championship. A prequel of sorts to the greater story of Missing Numbers. Told from Blue's POV.
CW: Suicidal ideation.
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Before he got any closer, I made a grand effort to compose myself, puffing my chest out and shutting my eyes in what I hoped looked like a cocky expression, rather than me holding back tears.
“Well, I THOUGHT I hadn’t made any mistakes raising my Pokemon. But darn, I guess you’re the new Pokemon League Champion…”
I sneered at him, “Although I don’t like to admit it.”
I stuck my hand out, offering a shake as if to officiate yep, you did it, you’re better than me, good job in the way that I’d seen grown-ups do on TV. He just stared at it, still looking like someone had died, not like he’d just done the greatest achievement any Pokemon trainer could ever hope to do?
What an idiot. I couldn’t understand why he cared so much. It wasn’t like HE was hurt by any of this. He should be ECSTATIC. 
He opened his mouth, as if somehow this warranted him using his words. Before he could, though…
The door opened behind him.
If my stomach had already dropped, well. Now it was digging itself a grave.
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frecklystars · 3 months
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ken is the type of boyfriend to want to surprise me with my favorite pastry (donuts) to cheer me up but doesn't know which one i'd want the most so he just gets all of them. comes home with 15 dozen boxes. we end up having to share them with the entirety of barbieland or else they'll go bad (hey, if plastic milk can expire, so can plastic donuts)!
driver brings home apple pie bc he assumes it's my favorite. it's not. well, apple is my favorite pie flavor, but pie itself is not my favorite pastry.
...but i would never tell him that, bc i love our routine of eating apple pie together at our favorite diner at two in the morning and i'd be sad if that ever stopped. sure, we could get donuts at 2am, but it wouldn't be the same. the fact that he'd go out of his way to drive us to a diner and sit us down and drape his jacket over my shoulders while sharing a slice of pie with me -- i dunno. it's nice.
#if the ice cream at the beach is free im assuming the donuts would be too#you think Tall Ken paid for his own ice cream when he bought himself and Beach Ken ice creams? please.#Kens have no money they have no car they have no job they have no house they have no crotch they have NOTHING#except my unconditional love and support 24/7#if ken ever has to buy anything he's on his knees begging barbie 'PLEASE BARBIE WILL YOU BUY DONUTS FOR OUR SWEET GIRL???'#but he'll say her name like Ryan did when he was running toward her at the bus stop --#BARBAY!!! BARBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!! ...y'know like that.#god i need to watch the movie again#i watched it last night but i need it AGAIN#love notes#💕 I'll fight for you!! - ̗̀🐎🏖️✨ ̖́-#💕♬♪ ♡ I do nothing but think of you - ̗̀💙🔨 ̖́-#every time driver says 'i got you pie... it's your favorite :)' im like uh huh :)#looking him right into those ocean blues and lying. yes it's my favorite. how'd u know babe??#if i ever told him i'd prefer donuts or cake he would change the routine surely#but where's the fun in that when i look at apple pie with so much fondness now#just like i used to not care for skittles but now i like to eat them every now and then#because Six eats skittles and Ryan talked about how Six would eat skittles in the field#i love associating food with F/Os i love them urging me to eat and to eat well#i'll be laying in bed feeling awful and then i'll think... 'barbie would want me to eat' so it makes me get up#hey whatever works right!!#woof
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lamiaviridis · 4 months
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💚     ⸺     ​ @unheald 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬. ┆  𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯 𝑶𝑭 𝑨𝑵 𝑶𝑷𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑻 . 
❛  i  was  in  over  my  head .  ❜ - from loki
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Arms wrapped around him, curvaceous frame pressed against him, and soft lips peppering kisses across the God of Mischief's features as she ran a hand through raven curls with a loving touch. It was a greeting, one reserved solely for him after a night of amorous entanglement. Like a teenager in love, Amora was all honeyed chortles and barely contained smiles, an embarrassing giggling mess whose cheeks soon began mimicking the lively pigments of Asgardian berries. Then, Loki's words finally reached her.
An uneasy sense of dread settled at the pit of her stomach; hearing the implications of Loki regretting the night they shared, regretting her, sent an unpleasant wave of shivers down the expanse of slender spine. Who was she, then, if not a beauteous entity destined to be desired since the dawn of her age ? What was she, then, if not a goddess meant to be lusted after, wanted by all, never to be alone again ? She fought to posses Thor's love, but ultimately failed because his heart always belonged to another. With Loki, she loved him and he loved her. Thus, why was this so difficult to achieve ? The Enchantress' facade was beginning to fade away, and Amora of Asgard, the little girl afraid of being abandoned, began to surge forth.
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❛ You... You mean you don't want me after all? That was all but a mere jest, a trick to appease your amusement ? ! ❜ Anger fueled her insides for a sliver of a second before fear overpowered her and she frantically blurted out. ❛ Please reconsider ! Think of all the dark passions that only I can unleash within you ! Th-the secret lusts that only I can satisfy ! I-I can give you anything you want ! ❜ She begged, but she knew that wasn't what Loki wanted. She knew that wasn't how Loki saw her, how much it pained him for her to see herself that way. But, she couldn't help it; this was all she knew.
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muu-kun · 3 months
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Sometimes I contemplate making muu singleship with he wife, but then I worry about being mean due to my potential decision to be exclusive to one ship and not the rest.
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mukuberry · 13 days
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Rika Kim 🤝 Kazui Mukuhara
Characters who are so deeply convinced there is something inherently wrong and evil within them. Who were hurt and betrayed by their family the second they met them. Characters who desperately try to get the approval of the people around them that they put on a facade of perfection, which only makes them hate their 'truth' more. Characters who are believe they're completely unlovable that when people try to embrace them they refuse to believe or accept it. Characters who want nothing more than to be a good, kind person, but cannot stop hurting the people around them to protect themselves. People who can't stop trying to get a better life despite all they've been through.
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oscill4te · 5 months
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once ive heard someone say that true unconditional love (love that is never ever broken, no matter the circumstances or your flaws) can only come from one's parents/caregiver, otherwise its unhealthy to have that for someone else or expect it from others. ive been thinking about that and hmmmmm
i kinda think its true in some ways... even if it stings. i am so curious what others think and might ask a forum. Even the strongest most loyal, love between 2 balanced ppl who care abt each other vry much- their love for each other does come with some conditions, no? You're allowed to lose those feelings if something very disturbing comes up, for example. Or maybe im confusing boundaries and mistreatment for the "conditions" of love maybe? Idk. This has been living rent free in my head for a while
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hegrowth · 2 months
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me, tossing glitter at you. as the glitter settles on the ground you realize it's spelling out I love you and think you're neat ! never stop doing what you're doing, cuz you're doing great no matter what you may think otherwise. also remember to hydrate. and when you look back up I'm gone
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kleftiko · 11 months
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❦ HOW MANY KIDS DOES HE WANT
cw: none, this is fluff
i add to this intermittently :)
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♡ a million. he wants a whole army of little ones running around. he has an endless list of names picked out and he just can’t help but feel like the most pure way to express his love for you is to create a little life and raise a wonderful person with you.
— HAWKS (mha), gojo, yuji, CHOSO (jjk), kuroo, bokuto, ATSUMU (hq), kiyoshi, kise (knb), julius, yami (bc), rengoku, akaza (kny),
♡ one or two. loves the idea of raising a child or two with you. he wants to watch and nurture a life, he wants to be the best father he can. he wants to support his child and find out what kind of person they’ll be with you right by his side. doesn’t even care if they’re biological.
— fatgum (mha), megumi (jjk), KITA, daichi (hq), akashi, kuroko (knb), nozel, fuegoleon (bc)
♡ doesn’t matter to him. it’s entirely up to you, it’s not like he would grow them in his body anyway. he has unconditional love for you, and if you chose to bring a child into your lives he will love them as well. will love you with a child, will love you without.
— aizawa (mha), LEVI (aot), nanami (jjk), sakusa, iwaizumi, kageyama (hq), kagami, murasakibara (knb), william (bc), kakashi, giyuu (kny)
♡ get those things away from him. will hiss at them. doesn’t have a way with kids, it’s not a good idea. if you really DO want a child, he will give you one. but he will never, EVER, admit that he loves the little bastard. you think you see him cuddling them in the middle of the night? nope, get your eyes checked.
— SHIGARAKI, dabi (mha), sukuna (jjk), tsukishima (hq), aomine, midorima (knb), sanemi, obanai (kny)
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emomanswhore · 1 year
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I feel like... if you call ghost daddy in bed he'll go crazy
ghost with a daddy kink ? oh yeah… he definitely eats it up, when his prettiest princess calls him daddy in bed. <33
—❤︎︎ — DADDY’S HOME . . . ❞
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SIMON GHOST RILEY X FEM!READER
✵. !! WC : 3.7k
✵. !! TAGS & CW : explicit content! (18+ mdni) - service/softdom!ghost (he’s a lil bit mean), cunnilingus, daddy kink, size kink/difference, praise/petname usage, subtle spit kink, squirting, thigh slapping, overstimulation, dumbification, pussydrunk!ghost (hes in LOVE with your pussy), orgasm denial, fingering, the mask stays ON.
✵. !! A/N : hihi babies ! just a lil treat for y’all and thank you for 700+ follows and all the love you’ve given for simon says ♡!! hope you enjoy this mini fic, lmk how we feeling about it !! <33 ps… i folded. im sat. i actually wanna call this man daddy so bad. 🧎‍♀️
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In your mind, there was one word— one forsaken word that you refused to utter. A word that only the most sexually deprived would use.
A person with their morals in check, should never attempt to sexualize something that is meant as an innocent title and name. Usually reserved for an actual father, or someone fulfilling the role of a male caregiver.
Right.
A person with their morals in check.
Right. You totally weren’t projecting… and deeply shaming your own innermost yearning, to desperately call your boyfriend ‘daddy’ while he fucked you.
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It definitely wasn’t a thing you could say you were proud to admit outloud. Nope, you would quite frankly rather be caught dead than have your questionable cravings exposed to the world.
But every single day, you swore to god that your boyfriend tried to purposely provoke you into using the absolutely forbidden word.
Simon always took care of you. Whether that’d be making sure you got to work safely, cooking you meals on days that you were too tired to be bothered, or even texting you throughout the day to make sure you were resting properly.
You know. You know that’s probably the absolute bare minimum, and what a boyfriend is supposed to do for you in a serious relationship. But you just couldn’t help that ache and flutter you got in your heart, that made you so weak for him.
He worked so hard every single day, busy and moving nonstop on less than four hours of full rest. Even when he had his most stressful and agonizingly long days at work, he still tried to reach out to you. It could be a single worded text message or a phone call that only lasted for five minutes.
No matter what or without question, Simon will do his absolute best to tend to you. It was truly unconditional love, devotion, and his unspoken rule to give you whatever you most desired.
And you feel sick— sick in the head for letting your insatiable lust take over your sense of morality. Putting his mostly wholesome catering ways, in the same category as what you needed to relieve that scorching, sore pounding in your core.
That was alright though, you could live off your little fantasies and scenarios you created in your mind. Always making yourself dizzy and soft headed, imagining a world where he would make love to you and refer to himself as ‘daddy’.
It would suit him so well. Your hulk of a man, who had to put a slight bend in his knees whenever he came through the doors of your home. His mellow, husky voice always gently rasping to you— almost never, ever raising it higher than an octave at you. The way he could spoil you absolutely rotten, only ever calling you by his own little terms of endearment.
Always putting you first when he fucked you. Even in times when it got rough or you two were experimenting with things on the more intense side, you always came first. Literally and physically, since Simon couldn't properly get off himself, without knowing you were completely satisfied.
Your aftercare would consist of cuddling, he’d coo the sweetest of praises as he handled your sore limbs.
“My sweet girl, look at how pretty she is. Did such a good job today, angel. I know baby, I'll take good care of you now. Such a pretty girl, aren't you?”
It’s perfectly fine.
You could keep all those things about him to yourself. Just let your brain work its magic, to create fantasies and fill the deep void of your scorching carnality. You always subconsciously needed that one little thing to make yourself come even harder. But you were a good, grateful girl for him and always let Simon know how well he treated your body.
It’s perfectly fine. You don’t need a daddy kink in your life, to make yourself feel better. You were so much better than that, and you’d never let Simon get the idea that you were some ill, perverted deviant.
It was all fine.
Until today, when he finally pulls the most forbidden word out your mouth— and satiates the bubbling, hot desire that has a heavy chokehold on your heart and soul.
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You don’t know how things escalated so fast.
One minute, you get his text that he’s on his way home and he’ll see you soon.
Out of pure joy and excitement to finally see him again after three weeks, you start to get yourself ready for the evening by taking an extra long shower. Making sure you’ve lathered and exfoliated every inch of your body in vanilla scented body polish, with a hint of brown sugar and cocoa butter. It was always Simon’s favorite scent on you, and he’d seemed more clingy than usual whenever your sweet aroma hit his nose.
The next hour, you throw on a simple, yet cheeky little lingerie set.
A delicate floral embroidered baby blue bra, with its matching mini stringed thong panty. You couldn’t help but fall in love with it at first sight. The design is a lovely work of art, the milky color enhancing the glow of your soft skin— yet it’s so scandalous on your body.
You did purposely get a smaller size, but on top of that it was made of see through mesh material. Not a single doubt in your mind that if he looked close enough, Simon could make out the shape of your nipples through the bra. And between your legs? The outline of your folds were perfectly clear and transparent against the light color of your panties.
After spending another minute admiring yourself in the bathroom mirror and taking a few selfies of your enticing form, you slip on a fluffy cream colored robe and head to the kitchen. You wanted to get something in your stomach before Simon came home, so you decided to lightly snack on a slice of pomegranate fruit.
You don’t even make it to the fridge before you hear the sharp clicking of keys turning a door knob, and feel the cold gust of wind that comes with the front door being swung open.
A gasp and squeal flies out your mouth as you bounce up and down on your toes, the actual sight of your boyfriend trudging in through the doorway makes your heart swell and pound in your chest.
“Baby!” You practically skip on your feet towards him, unable to hide your excitement of his abrupt appearance, as he starts taking quick strides to meet you halfway.
You think with how fast Simon approaches towards you, and him not even bothering to take off his shoes at the front door, he must’ve been just as excited to see you.
When you two finally meet each other in the middle of the hallway, you give him a big, dazzling smile as you go to lean in to hug him.
Before you can get your arms around him, he places a large hand on the small of your back and pulls you in close to his chest. You gape up at him, your smile slowly melting down to a look of pure confusion. Knees already feeling wobbly at his close proximity, and the way he has to tilt his head down to look you in the eyes.
Your breath hitches in your throat, when he slowly drags his open palm up along the cotton material of your robe. Even through its thickness, you can feel the heat radiating off his hand that follows along the curve of your back. Sending tingles down your spine, when his hand eventually makes its way up to the soft nape of your neck.
You both stare at each other. Your eyes become hazy and unfocused, while his dark ones scan over your perfect little form. You hear him pull in a deep breath of air through his nose. Holding it in his chest for five seconds before letting it back out, while he drags his eyes up back onto yours.
“Been thinkin’ about you all day long, y’know that?” He mutters these words, yet somehow they’re loud enough to ring and echo in your eardrums. You pull your lips in your mouth, feeling your core thump in tune with the pitter patter of your heartbeat.
You practically whimper out loud, as he continues onto his sentence,
“ ‘S about time I came home. Think it’s only right to show my princess how much I really missed her, wouldn’t you agree, pretty baby ?”
That was the only warning you were given… for what your boyfriend truly had planned for you, once he finally got his hands on you. Everything after that moment, truly did escalate as if time were being fasted forward.
You knew he missed you. Without him vocally telling you how much he thought of you, his actions spoke much louder than his words.
He was so sloppy.
From the way he practically rips your robe off your trembling body, to pushing you down onto your shared mattress and diving face first into the warm heat of your clothed pussy.
He was truly like a dog in heat. Not even bothering to take his mask off completely from his head, and only lifts it enough to show you his parting lips as he comes face to face with the growing patch of wetness sticking in your panties.
“Look at my pretty lil’ lady,” he coos softly, hooking his thumb into the side of your soiled panties and pulling them to the side to expose your glistening cunt to his heavy eyes. “Missed me, haven’t you? Can’t imagine how tight ‘n upset you are, since I haven’t been givin’ you proper treatment lately.”
It always blew your mind when Simon literally talked to your pussy.
Speaking in soft murmurs and giving it the same delicate pet names that he gave you, the owner of it. As dumb as it probably sounded, you sometimes couldn’t help but feel that ugly swirl of jealousy when he practically treated it like it was an entire living and breathing person.
You don’t have time to mull over your childish feelings, letting out a squeak when he grabs both of your thighs and presses them back until your knees squish against your chest.
“Know you’re mad at me, little one” Another squeak sounds out your throat, as you feel him turn his head to the side of your thigh and he lets his teeth sink into the doughy flesh of your skin. He hums, sucking on the flesh before letting it go and pressing a soft kiss to the flaming bruise he leaves behind. “Gonna show you how much I’ve missed splittin’ you open on my tongue.”
He follows through with his words, putting his full attention back onto your pussy. Using his index and middle fingers to pry open the thick lips of your cunt, groaning when he sees your hole twitching and spasming over nothing. The scent of your nectar coating your thighs and leaking out your pussy, makes him feel even more high and drunk off your arousal.
You’re so messy already. And like the gentleman that he was, Simon always took the initiative to help clean up messes that you made.
Still keeping his fingers spread enough to keep your lips parted, he lolls his thick tongue out before swiping it on your slit. You mewl and flinch at the feeling of his warm tongue, but he grips the side of your thighs to keep you still. Simon continues licking up and down your cunt. Maintaining the same pattern of stroking his strong tongue, as if he were savoring a frozen delicacy that helplessly dripped down the side of its waffle cone.
Once he feels like he’s collected enough of your cum on his tongue, he pulls his tongue back into his mouth to let the taste of you sit heavy on his taste-buds.
Your toes curl and you let out a soft gasp, as you watch him hollow his cheeks, before he lets the sinful mixture of your cum and his spit fall right back into your twitching hole. Chuckling to himself as he watches the way his greedy girl swallows up the little treat he gave her.
“Taste so fuckin’ good, princess” This time he does actually talk to you, dragging his eyes up from your drenched pussy and onto your blearing, glossy ones.
“Always so good for me. Could eat you up every single day ‘n never get tired of it. Can’t believe I went so long without this, fuck.”
Simon starts to probe his tongue along your core, tracing the shape of it until he finally pushes inside you. Already feeling the tight caverns of your pussy ease up, and welcome the thickness of his tongue rubbing up against your gushing walls.
“S-Sim— oohhh,” You throw your head back, unable to finish your squealing when he pulls his tongue completely out of you, and decides to inflict his torture upon your little clit. First he flicks the tip of his tongue over it, then he lets his mouth completely envelop around your pearl. Pumping it a few times between his lips, before pulling off to run his tongue over the expanse of your pussy.
You weren’t going to last.
You were far too sensitive after not having him around to please you for three entire weeks. All you could do was sob and let it happen, letting out a cry before you feel a fat watery gush of cum shoot out your hole. Simon pays it absolutely no mind, only widening his mouth to catch every little drop you gifted him.
“That’s it. Such a sweetheart, you’re already spoiling me ‘n givin’ me a lil’ treat. ,” He feels the way your body starts to relax, already going into its state of after pleasure— but he isn't done. Far from done, actually. Hasn’t even been half of an hour yet, and your legs start shaking like a leaf in the wind.
“Ah, Ah,” Simon tuts, slapping his palm hard on your soaked inner thigh, making you jolt and buck your hips up. “C’mon baby, couldn’t have thought I was done with you. ‘S only been a few minutes, ‘n you’re tapping out already? Thought my baby missed me, hm?”
It hasn’t only been a few minutes. Even in your dazed and dizzy mind, you knew that he’d been feasting on your pussy for well over twenty minutes. You shake your head, bottom lip wobbling as you let out a soft sob.
“I di-did miss you, baby” You sniffle wetly, feeling him trace his thick fingers along your soaking heat. Shaking your head in protest as he slips in his middle and ring fingers, humming while you babble to him. “But I can’t ta— aaahh, t-take it anymore. ‘S too much, baby. No more.”
“Too much?” He starts to flex his fingers deep inside of you, curling them in slow motions to stimulate your special gummy spot, that has you sobbing hysterically.
“You haven’t had your fill yet, sweet girl. I can feel it. Y’see this?” Simon tries to retract his fingers from your cunt, but your walls instantly clamp down on him. “You’re not lettin’ me out. My little lady down here knows exactly what she wants. So c’mon princess, lay still ‘n let me spoil this pretty pussy rotten.”
Having absolutely zero regard for your whines and sobs, he continues his previous abuse on your poor little pussy.
Seconds, minutes, hours, decades— You can't even tell how long he stays between your thighs.
Simon uses both strong hands to keep your legs steady and trap you from squirming or running away. You can take it. You will take it. He knows how much you need this, humming at every broken little sob and wanton moan that comes screeching out your throat.
Your vision starts to blur while you stare up at the spinning ceiling. Saliva pooling in your mouth and making a puddle next to your temples, as you let it run down the side of your lips.
You’re going crazy.
So high off the overstimulation of his face buried deep in your leaking pussy, that you swear…. you swear, you can feel your brain getting mushy. So mushy that if you shook your head hard enough, it could probably come spilling out through your ears.
He’s speaking into your pussy, saying words and mumbling something out loud. But you can’t hear it. All you can hear is your heartbeat pulsing in your throat, and feel the way he shakes his face side to side, while his tongue is plugged in your cunt.
Feel the way his hands grip your thighs so tight, that the blunt tip of his nails dig deep into your skin. You can already imagine the bruising and crescent little puncture marks it’ll leave on your legs.
It’s all so sloppy. Your pleas and cries for mercy, getting lost in the little squeals of ‘yes!’ and ‘simon!’ you can’t help but let out. And he eats it up, kissing your heated pelvis while burying three fingers inside of you.
“There’s my good girl, y’sound so pretty” He goes back to focusing his attention on your sore clit, giving it an open mouthed kiss before he continues speaking to you.
“Wanna hear my girl tell me who’s making her feel good. Hm? Lemme hear it. Say who it is, that can make you sing your little heart out.”
You make some unintelligible garbles, and Simon chuckles at your quivering and hiccuping. He squeezes your thighs encouragingly and smacks the side of them twice.
“Big words, baby. You’re a big girl, so tell me… who’s making you feel good right now?”
“It’s…” You swallow thickly and sniffle, slowly losing your train of thought as he suctions his lips around your swollen pearl. “It’s— ohhh, ‘mmm my goddd. It’s you…”
You start to gather some of your discombobulated brain cells to form a complete sentence. Simon’s name sits on your tongue, and you’re ready to tell him, it’s him. Simon. It’s Simon.
Until he pulls his head back with your clit between his lips— taking it with him, and letting it go with a loud pop!
It’s not Simon.
“Oooohhh g-god. It’s you! ‘Mmmy goodddd… daddy, it’s you… it’s all you, daddy.”
He pauses.
Whipping his head up to see if he really just heard what he believes you just cried out. Tapping the side of your thigh, he tries to get your attention so you can focus on his voice.
“What was that, honey? Didn’t hear you, come back to me and say it again.”
You whimper and hiccup, tears run down the side of your face and you continue whining at him.
“ ‘S you, daddy. Need you so badly, pleasseee baby. ‘M-m so close. I need it.”
Unbelievable.
He lets go of your trembling thighs. Letting the weight of his body help keep them pressed against your chest, as he crawls from up below your stomach and hovers over your face. Simon’s face is covered in your arousal. His lips glisten, and a good portion of the mask is damp and sticks to his skin.
“One more time, honey. Y’said it’s ‘daddy’ ? Hm? It’s your daddy, that’s taking good care of this pretty pussy?”
Simon’s fingers trail back down between your legs, softly shushing you as you keen at the feeling of his digits sliding back inside of you. He stares down at you, practically seeing the little stars spinning in your eyes. You weren’t in your best state of mind right now, but he’ll be damned if you tried denying that word escaping out with your cries.
“Can’t come ‘till you let me know,” You give him big, sad eyes but he shakes his head at you. “Wanna come, right? Tell. Me. Say it again, _____.”
At the use of your real, full name you quickly snap back into reality. It was like a switch, your bubbly headspace falling apart and bursting open once he rasped your name.
You did it. You really did call him daddy. It was your most taboo, and forbidden word—
But fuck it.
Today, your daddy was finally home. And you needed him to take care of you, just like he always did.
“Daddy,” you mewl out, feeling another hot sensation shooting through your spine. It was coming. You were so close. “Daddy I n-need you. ‘S you Simon, so please, pleaasee let me cum.”
His nostrils flare before he’s smacking his lips down on yours. Licking inside of your mouth, and inhaling the little moans you let out from tasting yourself on his tongue.
“Not yet, pretty little baby. Daddy hasn’t had all his fun yet.” Simon pulls away from your lips for a moment, laughing softly at the way you try to chase after his mouth for more. He uses one hand to swiftly fumble with the buckle of his belt, making quick work of pulling down his cargo pants and boxers. Laughing again when he pulls his drenched fingers out your greedy little hole, that puts up a fight to keep him deep inside your cunt.
“Must’a been treating my lil’ lady real good,” You can feel the heat of his hard, thick cock pressing onto your pelvis. Already licking your lips and grabbing onto his flexing bicep for support. “Gotta keep showing my special girls how much their daddy loves ‘em.”
He uses a free hand to guide his length to your throbbing pussy, unable to help himself from slapping the head a few times against you. His cock makes a squishy plop plop when he makes contact with your sticky folds, and teases you with a rub on your raw, swollen clit.
“Want you to remember this, once I’m done with you.”
Simon feels your nails dig into the hard meat of his bicep, bracing yourself when he finally lets the head of his cock greet your warm, welcoming insides. Already feeling the way your pussy grips around him, and makes no plans of ever letting go.
“Want you to remember what’ll happen every single time, that daddy comes home to his pretty, little princess.”
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✪-tagging-✪ / : @touyyes @winterbimbwo @sirenh4ll @sailewhoremoon @noriken @kokobunn @fushisslut @dilftaroooo @aasouthteranoswife @daeneeryss @simon-rileys-princess @g4bby @sussywowzaee @lazuli-leenabride @moonshot-eclipse @mietkoz @honeybee54321 @lich1 @terrythetortoise @fuckinriley @actuallyanita @wedonttalkabouthenry @motionlessinrhi @hauntingtherosebush @spookyclowwn
(couldn’t tag y’all </3 ily tho) @benandjerrysisqueer @bleedingmagic-02 @tescomealdeals-blog @getoruii @alyssam14 @officialjotchuagirlfanclub
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stayinlimbo · 1 month
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love at your fingertips
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pairing: lee minho x reader genre: established relationship, fluff disclaimers: tooth-rotting fluff, will (hopefully) make you smile, slight suggestiveness, lowercase intended, slightly unedited word count: 681 note: i had this idea and just had to do it. i love love ♡
minho has never been good with words.
it’s a fact he’s had to accept throughout his entire life. sentences spew past his lips before he has time to process what he's saying and his mouth won’t form the intended words clawing at the back of his throat. his attempts at conveying emotions fall flat due to his dry tone of voice, the only noticeable tells articulated by his ever-changing demeanor. 
it must be ironic that he considers himself an extrovert. 
or maybe it isn’t, because although minho may not be able to express himself verbally in his native korean, he is fluent in the universal language of love through touch (as if his obsession of slapping his friends’ butts wasn’t proof enough). and now that you’re in his life, it has become one of his primary means of communication. 
“i love you” is one of the phrases minho will never have trouble saying. not when the simple brush of the back of his hand with yours hints at his affection for you before starting dating. not when he clasps your hand with his to carefully guide you through a crowded area, occasionally looking back to ensure you’re okay and always to be met with a smile that melts his heart.
he expresses it in the way he ruffles your hair when he stands behind your seated form on the couch, laughing as he defends himself against your playful swats. minho remains tied to you, playing with your fingers under the restaurant table when on a group date with your mutual friends.  
careful love as his hand presses against the small of your back, letting you walk slightly in front of him on the sidewalk at night, making sure you’re always in his line of sight. 
passionate love as he pushes you against the bedroom door, the grip on your hips tightening when your mouth detaches from his and trails down to his neck. he radiates it through the act of intertwining his fingers with yours by your head as he pants into your ear, pressing a sloppy kiss to your temple, a silent thank you for vulnerability you’ve never hesitated to unveil for him. 
unconditional love when he pulls you in for a firm embrace after one of the worst arguments the two of you have ever had in your relationship. his thumbs wipe your tears away, an unspoken apology for making you cry. 
it’s the love minho knows will be there when he wakes up in the morning as he stretches his hand out towards the middle of the bed, close to where your half-asleep figure peacefully lays. 
it’s the love he knows is reciprocated, for you speak the language of love too. 
minho hears it, sees it, in the way you took his shy hand in yours, intertwining them together with a beam on your face at the way his face flushed from your confident action, and it’s the way your fingertips dig into his shoulders, kneading away the tense muscles after a stressful day. 
you make his annoyance at the world disappear when your fingers card through his wet hair, creating spiky towers pointing in every direction that he can’t help but laugh at himself at how ridiculous he looks (yet never smooths them back down unless you do it for him). 
it’s your careful love too, existing in the lip tint you applied on him transferring onto your lips as you tilt his head and pull him in for a sweet kiss. it’s worth the smudged kiss stains adorning his face when he sees you admiring your work, squishing his cheeks together because he’s just “so cute.”
you love every extension of him, including his cats that yowl and parade around your feet until you give them all equivalent attention with gentle pets. 
love is imbued in your touch, even when you’re half-asleep, yet still reach out to meet his open palm to loosely interlace your fingers.
no, “i love you” is one of the phrases minho will never have trouble saying. not if it’s with you.
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liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡
taglist: @linospuddin @linocz
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tacticalprincess · 1 month
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Babying König since he probably hasn't had anyone show him any genuine love or affection besides his Mutter :(( like imagine him just melting in your arms as you hum softly and run your fingers through his hair, he would be in pure bliss
he would definitely seek out motherly qualities in a partner, wether it’s intentional or not :( he just craves that kind of nurturing, warm, unconditional love!! dare i say he’s never felt it, so when you come along and naturally fulfill that role, he’d get soo attached…
it feels off at first for him and it’ll take a while for him to accept it. given his size and profession and his general personality, he always thought he’d have to be more stoic and domineering in his relationship. but eventually he’ll start to end up in your arms most nights while you coddle him and promise not to leave ♡
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lamiaviridis · 4 months
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💚     ⸺     ​ @liecrafted 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬. ┆  "I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT YOU" PROMPTS
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you've consumed my thoughts.
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A hum of acknowledgement resonates across her larynx, an undertone of mischief beneath doll-like features as she purposefully refuses to meet Loki's pointed gaze. Such honesty from the God of Lies and Deceit would take anyone aback, though for a moment the seductress wonders how much she can childishly prod at his mental images of her with suggestive words and flirtatious gestures before she accidentally awakens more amorous instincts within the deity.
A projection of herself materialized beside Loki, sitting on the arm of the love chair in which he sat. Lithe arm reaches out towards the God's face and circles to the back of his head, silken-soft fingers gently stroking his onyx curls of hair in a repetitive motion as Amora herself sat back and picked up her wine glass. She knew he was telling the truth, sensing his love and lust for her like a sweet burning of the skin. She peered into his consciousness and observed all the hand holding, cuddling, embracing of her curvaceous frame, every desperate kiss and every soft exhale of her breath against him. Teasing him with a personification of these fantasies may have seemed cruel, though it offered her a sense of enjoyment.
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❛ Hm. It would appear so. ❜ Emerald gaze transfixed on Loki and voluptuous figure stirring as she shifts on the couch across from him, taking a long sip of wine whilst remaining eye contact, smirking against the cold glass.
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tightjeansjavi · 5 months
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⋆。˚❆˚ 。⋆ Tinsel ⋆。˚❆˚ 。⋆
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A/N: all I gotta say is..WHEN IS IT MY TURN DAMMIT 🥲
joel deserves nice things™ ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
~word count: 4.9k~
pairing | boyfriend! Joel Miller x f! reader
Summary: it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery, but your Texas hunk of a boyfriend makes sure that this holiday season you feel loved.
Warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mommy issues for the reader, typical holiday angst, readers mother is a bitch, mentions of smoking and consuming alcohol, unprotected piv, dom/sub vibes, fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, cock warming, light ass slapping, unconditional love, Sarah and Ellie exist in this universe (Ellie is adopted) best friend! Tommy, close family vibes, soft! Joel, protective! Joel, Tommy is like a big brother to the reader, reader has no physical descriptions, there is one scene where Joel picks the reader up, no age gap, Christmas traditions, +18, minors dni! Please let me know if I missed anything!
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“Hey, babe?” You chimed from the living room. Both hands on your hips as you peered up at your beautifully decorated Christmas tree. “Do you think the tree could use some more tinsel?”
Your boyfriend, Joel Miller was in the kitchen with Sarah and Tommy who were on cookie duty, while Joel was crafting together the best goddamn gingerbread house your mother would ever see in her lifetime. (You hoped)
“Here she goes again with the tinsel.” Sarah giggled, gently nudging her uncle with her elbow.
Joel gave his daughter a playful warning glare before picking up a dusting of flour between his fingers and threw it at her with a grin. “Be nice, baby girl. Y’know how her mom is with this stuff. Everythin’ has gotta be perfect.”
“I’ll be there in just a sec, honey!” He called back, brushing his flour coated hands on his apron and retreated from the kitchen while Tommy and Sarah snickered.
“I still think we should add more tinsel, Joel. Maybe more ornaments? If she sees a single bald spot on the tree—” you’re caught off guard from bare, broad arms wrapping around your waist from behind. His aquiline nose brushes the exposed bit of skin along your neckline. He inhales deeply, smelling of cinnamon, clove, and ginger with a hint of Joel.
“Baby,” he rasps warm and deep, lips pressing to your warmed skin with affectionate sweetness. “The tree is gorgeous. I don’t see any bald spots.” A gentle squeeze to your hips, followed by another peck.
“But—” your voice falls short.
You melt back into his arms the way that marshmallows do in steaming hot chocolate. Pliant in his hold, suppressing a giggle when the scratchy bits of his patchy beard gently scrape your skin.
“But nothin’, baby. How about you help frost the cookies, hm? Get your mind off this damn tinsel.” You feel his lips curve into a smile along your skin. His chuckle vibrates up his chest and through your sweater covered spine. His hands drop from your hips, settling against the curve of your back, fingertips slipping into the denim pockets.
Cheeky.
A grumbled sigh from your lips, agreement, for the time being. The topic of tinsel would be brought up again. Your hand floated upwards towards his face, fingertips ghosting the patchy spots that you loved to press hidden kisses to. A finger hooks around his jaw, pulling him downwards to meet you in a kiss.
He obliges to your silent request. His nose brushes yours eliciting a sweet giggle to pass through your parted lips. The sounds of Santa Baby drowns out in the background. White noise compared to the steady thumping of yours and Joel’s synchronized hearts.
“I’ll be bringing up the tinsel again, Joel.” You murmur through the palpable warm tension.
“I know you will, darlin’” he tuts playfully, “But shh. Less talkin’, baby. Kiss me, doll.” He all but demands. The gap between you is closed. He kisses you sweetly, squeezing your flesh below the denim fabric. You swat playfully, melting once more when his tongue swipes your lower lip, testing—
“Ain’t hearin’ much talkin’ goin’ on in there!” Tommy remarks from the opening of the kitchen. Smirk plastered.
It’s Joel’s turn to grumble. A hint of annoyance on his breath. He breaks away from the kiss begrudgingly, but not before he can whisper just for your ears to hear, “we’ll finish this later.” Shortly followed by an encouraging pat to your jean clad ass, and a nudge towards the kitchen.
“These cookies ain’t gonna frost themselves!”
“Relax, brother. We’re coming!” Joel shoots you a wink with a suggestive tilt of his chin in your direction. The simple action alone sends a wave of arousal gushing through the thin fabric of your panties. A jolt, like a bolt of lighting.
4 years of dating your Texas hunk, and the sparks were still flying.
Sarah and Tommy both give you and Joel a cheeky little grin once you appear in the kitchen. An apron is tossed in your direction. Your eyes roll playfully with a shake of your head.
Joel returns to his gingerbread house making when you realizing that there’s one more member missing. “Is Ellie still asleep?” You ask while glancing at the clock along the wall.
“Must be. I’ll go and drag her out of bed.” Joel announced. He untied his apron and laid it flat across the table. He brushed past you on his way out of the kitchen.
Ellie Miller was in fact still dead asleep when he quietly pushed open her bedroom door. “Ohh Jelly Bean.” He cooed, using her least favorite nickname purposely.
A pillow was tossed carelessly in his direction with the intent to hit him, but Joel was ready for it and ducked out of the way. “C’mon, baby girl. It’s half past 10 and we could really use your help downstairs.” Joel said while reaching for the comforter to yank back.
“Can’t the cookies frost themselves? Y’know how I feel about the holidays, Dad.” She grumbled with her face squished into her pillow.
“Mhm. I sure do. Just a buncha commercialized crap around a jolly big ole’ fat man that breaks into people's houses, steals their cookies, and leaves crap under the tree. The only cool part of Santa Claus is his reindeer.” Joel said monotonically.
“You’re forgetting the bit where Rudolph is the coolest because of—”
“His bright shinin’ red nose. See, I remember these things, kiddo. Now, please get on up and help us out. If you don’t wanna frost the cookies, then you can help me finish with the gingerbread houses. Fair deal?” Joel crossed his arms against his chest while he awaited her response.
Ellie let out a long, dramatic sigh before she slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. I’ll come down and help out.” She grumbled.
“Thank you, grinchy.” He said teasingly while she shot him a playful glare. “There’s coffee downstairs too, if ya want any.”
Her nose turned upwards as she let out a disgusted sound. “Gross. Y’know how I feel about that stuff. It’s nasty. Smells like burnt shit. Don’t know how you drink that crap.” She grimaced.
“Hot chocolate?” He suggested with a warm grin.
“Now we’re talkin.’” She grinned.
Once the cookies were properly frosted, and the two gingerbread houses were fashioned, it was time for a well deserved break. Tommy volunteered to take Sarah and Ellie out sledding and then lunch while Joel stayed back to help you clean the kitchen.
Your boyfriend had his own idea of ‘cleaning’ and taking a break. You had just started the dishes when you felt his warm presence envelop and invade your senses. His strong arms were wrapped around you once more, and the tip of his broad nose was pressed into your neck, curls tickling your cheekbones.
“Have you come to help me with washing duty, baby?” You asked softly when his lips pressed an opened mouth kiss to your exposed skin. You learned very quickly early on in your relationship that Joel Miller was a lover, and a giver. He always needed to be close to you in some way.
“Mhm. I have, honey. But, I was hopin’ I could make you feel good first. I think the dishes can wait. Don’t you?” He nuzzled against you, thumbs slipping through the front pockets of your jeans.
“Joel..” you warned.
“Please, baby. I know the holiday season gets you all wound up. Let me help you relax, and then I will do the dishes and finish cleaning up here. Afterwards, you and I can settle in for a well deserved nap. How’s that sound?”
How did you get so lucky?
“You’re so good to me, baby. I suppose we can—” your words become lodged in your throat when his teeth graze your delicate skin. He nibbles playfully, knowing just how to get his girl going. His fingers toy with the button on your jeans before he pops it open.
“You’re my girl, ain’t ya? I live for makin’ you happy and feelin’ good. I love you very much, darlin.’ And I’ll be damned if this time of the year beats you down again.” He whispers while pulling down the zipper swiftly. His unoccupied hand slips under your sweater where he can feel your stomach clench inwards, the quickness of your breath while he splays his long, rugged fingers across your skin.
(If you ain’t dating a proper cowboy yet, then what the hell are you doin?’)
You allow yourself to indulge and melt into his grasp when his hand slips beneath the confines of your jeans, and below your panties. His broad fingers stroke gently between your folds, gathering up the slickness that has pooled there from this morning’s earlier interaction.
“Talkin’ of tinsel really gotcha goin,’ huh baby? Or was it the way that your handsome boyfriend was talkin’ to ya? Is that what got your pretty little pussy drippin?’” He purrs and your knees nearly buckle. Your Joel has never been shied away from dirty talk, and he knows how much you love it when filth drips from between his perfect lips.
You laugh, and it’s music to his ears whenever you let your guard down around him. Your head falls back ceremoniously against his shoulder, admiring his side profile through fluttered lashes. “It definitely wasn’t the damn tinsel, that’s for sure.”
“Thought so.” He mused with a rumbling deep chuckle. He’s acutely aware of your budding desperation taking the front and center stage when your hips buck upwards into his palm. “Someone’s a bit eager, hm? Want me to stretch this pretty pussy apart with my fingers, baby? S’that what my sweet girl wants?”
“Mhmm.” Is really all you’re able to get out because your mind is swirling, intoxicated with your boyfriend, and his goddamn hands that know how to play you to ruin. A flush rises to your cheeks, skin burning red hot like embers in a fire when his lips ghost the shell of your ear, sending a warm chill down every vertebrae in your spine.
“Can’t hear ya, honeybun. Gonna need ya to speak up for me.” His fingers dip down lower, teasing your tight wet hole that pulses around nothing, feeling empty and neglected thus far. His teeth bite down on your lobe, tugging it down playfully and elicit a desperate little mewl to slip past your lips.
“Fingers, daddy. Now. Please.” Your requests come out scrambled, misconstrued, but audible nonetheless. He seems pleased enough with your response and slowly sinks in two of his thick digits; ring and middle knuckle deep inside of your pulsing cunt. His hand encasing your entire mound while his thumb finds your clit with ease, curling his fingers inwards in a ‘come hither’ motion.
“Fuuck.” You moaned, wanton, depraved, love drunk on your Texas hunk.
His non-dominant hand that was presently resting along your stomach drops down. It takes him all of 5 seconds to tug your jeans down over your ass and thighs, exposing your bare skin to the room temperature air. His hand massages your supple flesh, curving against your spine before pulling back and returning with one firm smack to your left cheek that echoes through the expanse of the kitchen. “‘Atta girl.” He praises you lovingly, massaging the irritated skin before he delivers another smack, harder this time. It’s just enough to send you jolting forward into his hand, crying out his name.
The muscles in his bicep flex under the natural light flooding in through the kitchen windows. His fingers pump in and out, in and out. The mixed sounds of your pleasure, and your cunt squelching around his fingers sends blood flowing southwards to his hardening cock. You feel the press of him against your lower back when you reach around, fingers blindly searching till they find their home against the bulge in his jeans.
He grunts, lower lip taken harshly between his teeth, the speed of his wrist movements increase when you stroke him through the tight confines. You can feel all of him through the fabric, and you’re prideful that his desperately hard cock is just for you.
“Gonna fuck yourself against my fingers, baby? Gonna use me to get yourself off?” He questions hastily, breath shuddering when he finds himself grinding his hips in your hand with a need to satiate the building friction.
“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, mouth falling open in an ‘o’ shape when his fingers kiss that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. You’re so close, nearly at the edge when his fingers slip out, leaving you abandoned before his bending down and hoisting you over his shoulder like a rag doll.
His steps are calculated and precise carrying you up the stairs to your shared bedroom. He tosses you on the bed in a playful manner, lips finding yours in a chaste kiss while his hands tug your jeans down completely, followed by your panties. “Couldn’t wait any longer to be inside ya, baby” his words fall like whispers against your lips. You reach for his belt, undoing it with that sweet giggle that he loves so much.
He licks into your mouth like a man starved when you finally release him from his confines. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. His lips detach, a string of saliva connecting you to him before he plops down beside you on his back.
“We don’t even need to fuck, honey. Jus’ wanna be inside ya. Take a nap with my cock keepin’ you stuffed full.” He’s vulgar, greedy when he reaches for you. You melt like putty, sticky and sweet, and dripping.
“I love keeping your cock warm, daddy. Almost as much as I love it when you send me to a new dimension.” You murmur, settling against his chest. Your hand reaches down between your bodies, grasping his length and guiding it to your opening. A combined sweet sigh when he eases himself inside of you.
“So fuckin’ perfect for me. Warm, wet, huggin’ me s’tight.” He sounds drunk now too. His grin is lazily, placid when your eyes meet in a loving gaze. His hips shift beneath you, bottoming out, filling, stretching, while you pull him in.
His chin dips down, capturing your lips once more. It’s probably one of his favorite things to do, kissing you. Lips that he believes were made for him. A peck to your nose follows, teeth nibbling, giggles, sweet sounds.
“Joel?” You ask through the domestic calmness that shelters you both.
“Mhmm?” He rumbles, words rolling slowly against his tongue.
“I love you.”
His arms shift to wrap around you, holding you close. Heartbeats entwined. “I love you too, baby doll. And no matter what happens this Christmas, you’re perfect to me. No matter what your mother thinks, or says, you’re perfect.”
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“Did you knit these ghastly things yourself?” Your mother criticizes the sweaters you knitted for yourself, Joel, Tommy, Ellie, and Sarah. It was your first big knitting project. A daunting task at first, but the old ladies at the senior center you volunteered at were both charming, and helpful.
“Yes, mother. I knitted them myself.” Her words hurt, but that’s what champagne spritzers are for. You take a hefty sip from your champagne flute.
“Well, the pattern is all wrong, dear.” She drops the sleeve of your sweater with a sigh. “Your home looks lovely, by the way, but your tree could use more tinsel. I noticed five bald spots when I first walked in.” She has no idea how many hours you spent decorating the tree in the living room, the mantles, outside in the front yard. You worked tirelessly with your family, and she still had the audacity to say something negative about it.
You fake a smile, catching a glance from your Texas hunk who is preoccupied in the kitchen with making sure that dinner is absolutely perfect.
“Thank you for the compliment, mother. Can I get you more champagne?” You ask, hoping that you can just take a breather finally.
“Oh, thank you dear, that would be lovely. Where’s that boyfriend of yours, Joe?” She waved her wrist carelessly, bracelets chiming in your ears. Even after four years, your mother still didn’t call your boyfriend by his real name.
“His name is Joel, mother. And he’s in the kitchen with his brother who is helping him with dinner.” You respond flatly.
“Joe. Joel, what’s the difference?” She doesn’t get it. She never does, and never will.
“Mother, it’s rude. He’s my boyfriend of almost five years, and you can’t even bother to remember his name?” You’re on the edge of snapping. It's not fair that your mother thinks that just because her husband divorced her that she gets to make everyone close to her miserable too.
“He’s still your boyfriend? Well, by now I surely would think that you’d be engaged and married. Who in their right mind plays house with a man for almost five years? Dear, have I taught you nothing?”
Tears prick the corner of your eyes from the blow of her words. You and Joel never felt like you needed to get married. It was just a piece of paper, shared finances, social status that neither of you cared for. You loved each other, you loved Sarah and Ellie, and viewed Tommy like a brother. Wasn’t that enough?
“Excuse me, mother, while I go top off your glass.”
She doesn’t see the glassy look in your eyes when you snatch the flute from her. Your footsteps carry you directly to the kitchen. For a brief moment you think about tossing the glass into the sink and letting the crystal shatter, but you opt to set it down on the counter.
Joel and Tommy are watching you closely from a distance. You’re visibly upset, and no fake smile can hide that.
I just need a breather.
The air is chilly, and the sky is clear with twinkling stars. Your tears glisten under the Christmas lights hanging above the front step when you hear the front door open and close. You move quickly to douse out the lit cigarette that is pursed between your painted lips, feeling a twinge of shame from a habit you couldn’t quite break.
“You don’t gotta hide that on my account, sweetheart.” Tommy said softly with his hands shoved in his jean pockets.
“I just..needed something to take the edge off.” You know that there’s no reason to explain yourself to him, or anyone for that matter. Tommy’s been your best friend for years, and he was the one that introduced you to Joel in the first place.
“I get it. Family can be real assholes sometimes, huh? It’s like that one scene in National Lampoon’s where the wife says, “it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery.” He chuckles.
“Yeah, and the misery is my mother.” You scoff and offer him your cigarette.
“Ah. What did she have to say this time around?” He asks while taking the cigarette between your fingers and bringing it against his lips.
“What didn’t she have to say?” You stifled a bitter laugh. “Five bald spots on the tree. The sweaters I knitted are ghastly, and she refuses to call Joel by his real name. Oh, and the cherry on top? She thinks I’m naive for ‘playing house with a man who isn’t even my husband.’”
“Bald spots? Where? The sweaters you made us are adorable, and what a bitch. I swear, that woman grows more callous every year. Who cares if you and Joel aren’t married? What’s it any of her business to do in your private life? You’re happy, aren’t you? She’s jus’ bein’ bitter cus’ you got a man that loves you unconditionally, and her husband left her.” Tommy finishes off what is left of the cigarette before he douses it out with the toe of his boot.
More tears begin to freely fall when you begin to fold in on yourself. “I love that man so fucking much, Tommy. He makes me so unbelievably happy and I just wish she could support me. To be my mother for once in her goddamn life and not this jealous..entity.” You sniffled.
“Oh, honey, it’s Christmas time and tears are not allowed!” Tommy attempted to joke, but when he saw just how upset you were, he switched gears and wrapped you up in his arms. “She’ll never understand, unfortunately. But that’s her loss. She could be real happy for you, and Joel, if she wanted to. But jealous people miss out on those happy moments I’m afraid. She refuses to be happy, and that ain’t have anythin’ to do with you, sweet pea.” He reassured you.
What Tommy really wanted to tell you, but couldn’t say, was that soon enough he’d be your brother in law, and your Texas hunk was going to ask you to marry him, to be his wife, at the stroke of midnight tonight when all the guests would retire home.
“You’re right, Tommy. You’re absolutely right. She’s choosing to be unhappy for me. That’s her choice, not mine. And you know what? Fuck her. She doesn’t get to hold this over me. I’m happy, and I refuse to let her ruin that for me.” You hug him back tightly.
“‘Atta girl. Now, let’s get back inside before my brother starts worryin’ more than he already has. I’ll entertain your mother so that you can have a break. How’s that sound?”
“Really? You’ll do that for me? Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime, sweetheart. I’ll get her all liquored up.” He jokes with a playful wink.
Your lips peck his cheek in a non-romantic gesture. Tommy has always been your rock.
Dinner surprisingly runs smoothly, and you no longer have to deal with your mother because Tommy is talking up a storm with her, and she actually..smiles? Maybe it was just the champs.
Your Texas hunk is seated beside you with his hand resting along your thigh underneath the table. His thumb is rubbing reassuring circles against the silky fabric of your tights. He checks in with you between bites, silent glances, softened eyes. God, you loved this man.
Ellie, Sarah, and Joel helped you with the dishes while Tommy drove your cousin home. He had a crush on her for years, and finally grew a pair to make it known. Your mom, thankfully, went home with your aunts.
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It was nearing midnight when Joel returned from upstairs after saying goodnight to the girls and wishing them sweet dreams. He found you curled up in the loveseat next to the fireplace, deep in thought with a half drunk glass of wine resting alongside the table. The rim of the glass was coated in a residue of your lipstick that had long since rubbed off.
“Is there room for me there?” He gestured to the loveseat with a small grin.
Your eyes met his in a soft gaze, and a subtle nod. And when you start to rise from the cushion, he stops you and instead lifts your thighs up gently before scooting in behind you so you’re draped across his lap comfortably.
“Are the girls asleep?” You ask as his hand rests around your hip.
“Mhm. Jus’ you and me, baby.” He replies with a swipe of his lips against your forehead. “Is everythin’ okay? You looked upset earlier..”
“Oh.” You sigh. “Yeah, everything is okay, Joel. It's just the holidays, and my mother, but I’m okay.” You reassure him while your hand drifts up towards the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair with your nails gently scratching his scalp.
“Yeah, I reckon she had some shit to say? I’m sorry, baby doll. But remember what I said earlier? You’re perfect to me no matter what your mother thinks or says.” He murmured. His hand that wasn’t resting along your hip reaches up, his thumb brushes across your chin, eyes boring into yours with sincerity and pure love.
“I just..I hate her sometimes, and I know I shouldn’t because she’s my mother, but she’s a bitter woman, and I don’t want her in my life anymore, Joel. Not when she’s like this.” You nearly croak, and his face falls. His lips curved downwards into a deep set frown. He senses your tears before they even begin to fall.
“Hey, just because she’s your mother, doesn’t mean that she has a right to be in your life, baby. It’s your life, and you get to decide who you want to be a part of it.” He can feel the weight of the small box growing heavy in his pocket. “Darlin’, I love you, and I just want my girl to be happy.” He confessed.
“You’re right. It's my life and I get to make those choices, not her. I’m sorry, baby. I don’t mean to—”
He shushes you softly. His thumb gently presses down against your lower lip before he steals a quick kiss to reassure you, and himself. “Hey, you ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for. You’re perfect. You’re amazing. Could give less of a fuck what your bitter mother has to say about it. I love you for you, and ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.”
He pauses, swallowing the lump that is growing in his throat. He releases your hip gently before reaching into his pocket. “I know I shoulda asked you this question a long time ago, but I had to be sure that..it was perfect. All my life I’ve found myself bein’ a hopeless romantic. Always giving, never receivin’ the same kinda love I put out there. Never thought that one person could make a man’s heart feel so full, so complete till I met you. Now, you know I ain’t one for cliches, but I love you with everything my heart has to offer, and I want nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, my beautiful, sweet, unconditionally lovin’, girl.”
“Joel..are you—oh my god.” You’re in disbelief, heart thumping rapidly out of your chest when he pulls out a small, forest green velvet encased box.
“I ain’t finished yet, darlin.’” He tuts playfully. “So, will you do me the honors of becoming my wife? And as your husband, I promise to never stop lovin’ you, t’never stop supportin’ you, no matter what life throws our way?” His eyes are glassy with freshly brewed tears. He doesn’t even have the chance to open the box and reveal the ring to you before you’re throwing your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the wind from his lungs from how tightly you’re hugging him.
“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you! Oh my god, a million times, yes!” You’re so happy you can barely contain it.
“Dontcha wanna see the ring?” He laughed warmly, wrapping his arms around you. “Ellie and Sarah helped me pick it out.”
“Aren’t you supposed to get down on one knee and all that?” You ask teasingly while you pull back from the hug and hold out your left hand.
“Oh, shit! You’re right! I’m doin’ this all wrong.” He chuckled with a shake of his head.
“No, fuck the tradition. Let’s do it our way.” You suggest and he smiles brightly, dimples peeking through. You open the box together revealing the dainty ring that had you written all over the design. An oval shaped diamond in the center, a shiny gold band, and two smaller diamonds on either side.
“It’s beautiful, Joel. You and the girls have impeccable taste.” Your heart swells when his lips press to your ring finger before he carefully slips the ring into place.
“It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t compare to the woman who’s wearing it.” He comments thoughtfully while your hands come to rest along his cheeks. His face is held tenderly while I love you’s are whispered only for yours and his ears. It’s not long before you're chasing one another’s lips. He kisses you with the same amount of passion every single time.
“Keep the sweater on, baby.” You request between kisses while his hands make quick work of tearing your thin tights open for easy access.
“I’ll buy ya a million pairs. Jus’ wanna make love to my future wife fireside without any obstructions.” His hands rest upon either side of your hips when you straddle his lap.
“And I want my future husband to sit back and watch his future wife ride his cock.” You finalize your words with a searing kiss while your fingers work open the button on his jeans. You push the material down just enough that you can pull his cock free.
“M’so fuckin’ lucky. God, I am so lucky. All my life I’ve been waitin’ for someone like you, baby.” He grunts lovingly, unconditionally when you finally sink down around him. “I can’t fuckin’ wait to grow old with you.”
Your hips roll slowly against his while he pulls you in with gentle hands. There’s no teeth clashing, or skin slapping. It’s just good ole fashioned love making by the fire. Just you and your Texas hunk.
Merry Christmas, Mr. Miller. You’re the only man in this world that deserves my heart.
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bratpacks-aaa · 2 years
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❛                ♡            ❜                ˚        。    ·    closed    starter    for    @killforyou​   .
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love    is    cruel    .    that    much    she    knows    —    that    much    does    not    require    any    surmise    .    patriarch    determining    he    is    not    ready    for    the    responsibilities    that    a    family    ,    a    wife    who    possessed    an    adoration    to    the    point    of    willing    to    deconstruct    terra    firma    itself    for    him    &    a    saccharine    baby    girl    with    rotund    apples    of    cheeks    ,    is    cruel    (    finding    out    he    has    made    a    new    life    for    himself    on    first    born's    fifteenth    birthday    is    ,    as    well    .    she    is    not    known    for    hating    other    corporeal    animas    ,    but    there    is    a    girl    out    there    who    has    the    felicitous    family    noelle    craves    &    she    cannot    help    the    way    she    wishes    it    was    her    who    had    been    left    behind    )    cruel    is    matriarch    taking    out    the    leftover    ire    from    husband's    abandonment    on    adolescent    who    returns    home    late    one    night    ,    gripping    tow    –    headed    blonde    tresses    ,    once    delicate    (    had    mother    ever    been    delicate    with    daughter    ?    had    noelle    always    received    this    treatment    ?    she    could    not    tell    ,    proceedings    blurring    into    convoluted    chaos    )    palm    striking    countenance    so    harsh    ,    vats    of    concealer    is    applied    when    aurora    breaks    .    cruel    is    this    moment    ,    football    stadium    fluorescents    &    waxing    crescent    moon    blending    as    one    ,    fabricating    dyad    even    when    they    do    not    wish    to    be    ,    articulation    transitioning    from    somber    to    vehemence    rather    instantaneously    .    cruel    is    individual    herself    —    had    been    declared    inadequate    since    the    day    she    exited    her    primordial    pool    ,    but    that    does    not    quell    the    eroded    cardiomyctye    ,    nor    does    it    intercept    an    already    calloused    zephyr    becoming    suspended    within    pulmonary    cavity    ,    the    need    to    singe    milky    epidermis    ,    a    tradition    individual    had    adopted    when    the    melancholy    was    too    much    for    lithe    framework    too    carry    on    shoulders    .    doleful    hues    broadening    in    bewilderment    ,    congenitally    roseate    petals    are    parted    ,    encephalon    racing    with    varying    notions    —    what    did    i    do    ?    what    could    i    have    done    differently    ?    what    would    make    him    stay    ?    what    did    i    do    ?    ❛    you    —    i    wouldn't    even    be    that    upset    if    you    had    waited    !    why    did    you    have    to    tell    me    this    now    ?    ❜    it's    a    prevarication    ,    she    knows    that    it    is    —    but    when    words    do    not    descend    from    other's    brims    ,    saline    droplets    begin    to    accumulate    within    waterline    .    cranium    bobbing    from    left    to    right    ,    metacarpus    ascending    to    halt    any    further    damage    .    ❛    good    luck    on    your    game    .    ❜    timbre    is    monotone    ,    appendages    opting    to    maneuver    around    sports    field    ,    despondency    cutting    through    bones    as    linoleum    aperture    displays    a    wash    room    that    is    void    of    any    essence    ,    save    for    femme    &    meilleur    ami    .    phalanges    gripping    at    porcelain    ,    a    whimper    giving    way    to    a    sob    .
#❛    ♡   ❜    ˚  。 ・ ❪       𝐧𝐨𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞       𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤.     ❫       ░       𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐪𝐮𝐲    .#tw / abuse#tw / self harm mention#so i love the way i wrote this first of all!#like i think it was established that they're both cheerleaders and have been since they were little babies! it's something they share with#one another so that is why they're CO CAPTAINS! 🫶🏽#and i think this takes place moments before a super important game with scouts in the crowd so this could not have come at the worst time?#and i have so much i want to say about noelle because i've thought of her so much? >__< i think she will find out she is a lesbian but until#then she puts so much weight on her relationships because she is cassie howard down? she has this desire and need to be loved and the sad#part is she really only feels unconditional love when she's around aubrey and her pas boyfriends who worship the ground she walks on because#she's the sweetest girl ever really? her and zoë are so tied for best girls like she really and truly is season one cassie howard.#but then for reasons beyond her control they all break up with her and seemed so frightened by her and really and truly upset with her but#she doesn't understand why at all and it comes so fucking randomly too which is why she feels so unloved as you can tell by this starter#and her mom being abusive doesn't help at all like noelle was told she wasn't enough since the day she was born and her mom takes all her#anger out on noelle and says the most horrible things so she's probably been told that she'll never be enough or keep anyone or really be#loved and have a long lasting relationship which ellie has taken it in internalized it and really and truly fucking believes that now? >__<#when in all actuality she has someone who loves her so much and nearly kills anyone who stands in her way about her noelle which when you#really think about it noelle coming up to her on her why doesn't anyone love me it's so SAD because aubrey does and she always has!#and i feel like this is by far the worst she's kind of been over this like she was tore up about each guy *yes* but this has been happening#so much it's kind of her breaking point? and he was one of the sweetest most understanding guys she ever really dated so like listen listen.#in some ways you could say that noelle *loved* him and when she experiencing those feelings of love she doesn't shy away from it because she#knows what it is like to feel unloved and like no one on planet earth cares so when she feels that love she shows it off screams it to every#single person she knows even gets the shit tatted! so this npc boyfriend probably has the worst injuries aubrey has *ever* inflicted?#eee i'm already invested! 🤍🤍🤍 so excited for my aubelle we love you aubelle! 🥹🥹🥹
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springtyme · 3 months
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18+ (mdni!) the simon playlist
Simon’s intensity is both a blessing and a curse; it draws you in like a moth to a flame, irresistible and relentless. His passion radiates from his very core, touching every aspect of your relationship, and that most definitely includes your sex life. 
There is a certain enchantment to being with someone whose desires and love burn so brightly. Simon’s unyielding intensity fills the room, overwhelming your senses, making you feel like the centre of his world. His touch is electric, igniting a fire within you that cannot be easily extinguished. 
However, there are days where darkness engulfs Simon, shrouding his heart in pain and anguish. On those days you catch glimpses of the haunting shadows that dance in his eyes, an echo of the inner turmoil he battles with. Simon’s past is a constant companion that lingers in the background of your shared existence. He has come a long way, though. You have helped him heal in ways he never thought possible and he isn’t sure that you’ll even ever understand just how much you have done for him. You offer him a safe haven, a sanctuary where he can express his emotions without judgement.
In your embrace, Simon finds solace from the demons that haunt him. Your love and understanding create a refuge where he can confront his past and find strength to continue his journey towards healing. You become his pillar of support, offering unwavering patience and compassion.
Through his moments of darkness, you hold his hand, reminding him that he doesn’t have to face his struggles alone. You offer a listening ear, allowing him to vent his frustrations, fears, and regrets. In your presence, he discovers the power of vulnerability and realises that it is okay to release the pain he has carried for far too long.
Your love-making becomes a sanctuary of its own - a space where Simon can lose himself in the physical connection and momentarily escape the weight of his past. With every touch, caress, and kiss, the intensity between you intensifies, creating a momentary respite from his inner battles. You provide not only physical pleasure but also emotional intimacy, a safe space for him to open up and explore the depths of his desires and fantasies.
Your relationship becomes a catalyst for Simon’s growth and transformation. In your unwavering support, he discovers the strength to face his past head-on and embrace his vulnerabilities. With you by his side, Simon begins to rewrite his own narrative, shedding the pain and darkness that once consumed him. With you he can be Simon, and only Simon, there is no Ghost around you. 
Together, you create new memories that overshadow the haunting shadows of his past. Your love becomes a beacon of light, guiding him towards a brighter future. With every passing day, Simon’s intensity evolves, no longer a curse but a liberating force that fuels his passion for life and deepens his love for you.
As you continue to navigate the complexities of your relationship, you cherish the intimate moments when Simon’s intensity becomes a canvas for shared vulnerability and profound love. You remain dedicated to supporting him, knowing that your presence has the power to heal and provide him with the strength to overcome any darkness that may threaten to consume him.
Together, you and Simon have built a foundation of trust, understanding, and unconditional love. And as you face each new day, you are grateful for the opportunity to be the one who helps him realise the tremendous impact his intensity has on both himself and your shared world.
Thank you for reading! Request for my 1k follower celebration is open ♡
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