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fangirlingfromdownunder · 16 hours ago

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Unwrap Me For Christmas

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: This is my @spnfanficpond Secret Santa fic for 2024. This one is for you @atenea585 ! It took some time and ended up longer than I expected but I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Smut

Main Masterlist

You lie in bed with your head on your boyfriend’s firm chest as it rises and falls. Generally, it would lull you back to sleep, but you can’t stop your mind from wandering to the current holiday season. You know the life of a hunter doesn’t exactly lend itself to having quiet days decorating a tree, baking cookies or sitting around drinking eggnog, but you can’t help but want that. You absent-mindedly run your fingers up and down the bare chest beneath you as you imagine doing all of those Christmassy things with the said man underneath you. Suddenly, you feel a warm hand cupping yours to stop your movements.

His deep chuckle reverberates through his chest. “That tickles”. You smile and peck his chest as you roll over more to look up at his beautiful face. His eyes are still closed, hiding his mesmerising emerald eyes. He looks so peaceful.

“Dean…Can we-I want to-Nevermind.” At your stuttering, he opens his eyes and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart? You didn’t take any of that lunatic's spells did ya?”

“I still can’t believe you were a dog and you checked out that poodle right in front of me! But no. I just…I know what you’re gonna say.”

“I could surprise you?”

“No, I know you too well.”

He flips you over so you’re caged between his muscular arms. “You won’t talk? Fine.” He presses soft kisses over your face and neck as his fingers trail down your sides digging in softly. You squirm in his grasp but he doesn’t stop. You rarely get to see this lighthearted and fun side of the hunter, so you revel in it whenever you do. He looks younger like this, not rugged and aged beyond his years like he does whenever he has a blade or gun in his hands. He looks like the mid-30s man he is. Eventually, he stops his fingers and lifts your chin so you meet his eyes. “Ready to talk yet?” You shake your head with a smile. “I torture monsters you know? I can do this all day.”

“Alright, Cap. Prove it!” you say defiantly. He reaches for the bedside drawer and pulls out a tie dangling it above your face. He carefully ties it around your wrists and the headboard as he straddles you. You know then that you’re in for a long morning, but you’re not complaining.

“Sure you don’t wanna talk?” When you stay silent, he kisses your lips softly before working his way down your body. His calloused fingers run under his oversized shirt you’re dressed in and across your bare stomach leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He pushes the shirt up until it’s covering just your eyes.

As you lay on his chest taking in the bliss you finally decide to talk. “I wanna celebrate Christmas…”

“Every day is Christmas since I got you.”

“So, sappy. And then what? Every other day is Halloween?”

He kisses your head. “Yep.”

“I’m serious though. I want it. A Christmas tree, gifts, mistletoe, the whole nine yards. I know we’ll never have the house with a white picket fence and two-point-five kids, but is Christmas too much to ask.”

“No…”

“See, I knew-”

“No, it’s not too much to ask. Let’s do it.”

You roll over to meet his eyes which are shining back at you. “Really?”

“Anything for my girl. The monsters’ll still be there after. We deserve a break. Plus, it’s still a couple weeks away. Now, come on. I need coffee.”

“But I-” He lifts his eyebrow at you.

“Don’t tempt me.”

Much to your disappointment, when you and Dean finally make it to the kitchen for what is now brunch, Sam slides his laptop across to you to read a strange news report. You sigh and roll your eyes but allow him to tell you both more as you eat and let the caffeine fuel your system. You all agree that it’s worth checking out.

As you’re packing your duffle you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your stomach. “It’ll be a cakewalk, then we’ll be back home for Christmas. I promise.”

“It’s never a cakewalk, Dean.”

“That article had vengeful spirit all over it. We get in burn the bones and then get the hell outta Dodge.”

“You’d better be right.”

“I’m always right.”

You toss a few changes of clothes in your bag with a sigh. Under your breath you huff, “You’re never right.”

“I heard that!” He shoulders his bag and reaches for your hand. “Let’s go, grumpy. The sooner we go, the sooner we can come back and have Christmas.”

The next night you, Dean and Sam are standing over a grave as you watch the bones go up in flames. “I shoulda bought chestnuts, could’a give you your first Christmas tradition,” Dean says with a wink.

“I don’t want chestnuts cooked over a dead body, Dean.”

“It’s just bones.” You roll your eyes and walk back to the car, leaving the brothers to cover the grave back over. You sit in the backseat with your legs dangling out of the open door. As you wait for them to come back you pull out your phone and start searching for gift ideas. If tonight’s tactics worked, Dean may be able to keep his promise, and you want to be ready for that scenario. After scrolling through multiple websites you’re still unsure what to get him, or his brother for that matter. Sam had accepted you as a sister long ago and so you want to show your appreciation for that as well. You know the most useful option would be more ammo or a new weapon or food, but just this once you want a proper Christmas without reminders of hunting.

When the brothers finally settle back in the car so you can all go back to the motel for much-needed showers and sleep you just decide to ask, “What do you guys want for Christmas?”

Dean meets your eyes in the rearview mirror and winks. “Just you, Sweetheart.”

“Gross!” Sam whines. “To erase that from my memory.”

“I’m serious! I want a real Christmas and I want to get you both things you’ll like.”

The car falls quiet and you lean back on the cool leather as Metallica fills the space instead. You sigh and look out the window into the darkness. When Dean finally parks in front of your room at the motel you jump out, but he grips your wrist before you can get far and pulls you to his chest. With his lips ghosting above your ear he quietly says, “How about a pie? Homemade. Or a new knife? Or…” He tilts his chin lower so his lips are brushing against the tip of your ear. Goosebumps rush down your neck as his hot breath tickles your sensitive skin. “Or you wrapped up in nothing but a bow.” Your breath hitches and your whole body heats up. Before you can even register, he’s gone, walking into the room you both have to share with Sam due to it being the last one available. You quickly compose yourself and follow.

As you lay snuggled up in Dean’s arms listening to his even breaths his words echo through your head sending goosebumps over your whole body. You know you need something else that he can unwrap in front of Sam, but you actually like the thought of him unwrapping you. With the semblance of an idea spawning, you settle into the warm arms around you and close your eyes.

Despite being the last to fall asleep, you’re the first to wake up. You carefully untangle yourself from Dean’s arms and sneak into the bathroom to freshen up. Once you’re done, you scribble down a quick note to say you’ve gone out to get breakfast and coffee and leave it on the table. You use the opportunity while waiting for your order to continue researching gift ideas, this time of the more scandalous variety. As you’re scrolling, a convoy of police cars and an ambulance speed past the cafe towards the house you’d come to investigate. Deflated, you call Dean to wake him up. After a few rings, he mumbles out a “hello”.

“Our little salt and burn last night didn’t work. Tell Sam to get back on the research. I’m on my way back with coffee and breakfast now.” Without waiting for a response you hang up, grab your order from the bench that you barely noticed was ready and hurry back to the Impala.

Back at the motel, you dump the food on the table and explain what you saw. Dean sits there rubbing at his eyes as he tries to wake up and take in your words.

Four days later you’re finally back in the bunker after finding and burning the cursed heirloom ring from the recently deceased grandmother and freeing her restless spirit to move on. During the pursuit you’d had barely a minute to do any further research or shopping and you’re irrationally annoyed with Dean. You know it’s not his fault the hunt turned out the way it did, but you knew it would—it always does—and he promised. Now your idea of a peaceful Christmas is quickly slipping away. You huff as you shoulder past him to go to your room, put your stuff away and collapse in bed. When he catches up with you in your shared room he pulls you close.

“I’m sorry. You were right…you’re always right.”

“Whatever. I just wanna get in a few hours before Sam lines up the next one.”

“No more hunts till after Christmas.”

“Tell that to your oversized baby brother!”

“I have, he promised.” He kisses the top of your head. “Tell you what, you go have a warm bath and relax and then we can watch whatever sappy Christmas movie you want.”

“Really?”

“Really. Now go, I don’t want to see you for at least an hour.” You peck his lips and then pull away. As you go to the door he adds, “And check under the sink, that’s where Sam keeps his special hair stuff. Just don’t tell him I told you.”

“Thanks, Dean. I love you.”

“Love you too, Sweetheart. Now get outta my sight before I change my mind.”

In the bathroom, you quickly strip out of your sweaty clothes from travelling and start to fill the tub. You pour in some floral-scented bubble bath and slip into the shower to quickly shave your legs and wash your hair while you wait for the tub to fill. You get out of the shower just in time before the tub gets too overfilled. You shut off the water, massage in a small dollop of Sam’s secret conditioner, pin up your hair and then slip into the warm bubbly water. You sink down until the water is lapping your collarbone and let out a contented sigh. As you lay there letting the hot water soak into your skin and relax you, you continue considering what to get the brothers. So far all you can think of is a new book set for Sam and some new vinyls or cassettes for Dean, plus the special gift for his eyes only. You know they’d both be more than content with those options so you make a mental note to order them and then let your mind wander back to other Christmas activities, such as what movie you’re going to subject Dean to after the water cools.

By the time your skin is well and truly pruned, the water is starting to feel cooler, so you drag yourself out of the tub and wrap yourself in a towel. You let the water out and then brace yourself for the cool air in the rest of the bunker. As you wander down the cold hall to your room, your body instantly feels cooler. You miss the warmth of the bathwater already, but you force yourself to go on. In your room, one of Dean’s hoodies, a pair of thick tracksuit pants and a pair of fluffy socks are spread out on the bed with a note:

Hope you enjoyed your bath, Sweetheart. Put these on and meet me in the Dean-cave.

You smile as you quickly drop the towel and slip into the prepared outfit. You pad down to the Dean-cave and your jaw drops. A fibre-optic tree stands in the corner of the room lighting the whole space in vibrant colours. A fireplace crackles on the TV in the centre of the wall adding a warm glow and an overwhelming aroma of pizza and gingerbread wafts past you. Then you finally settle on the man standing in the middle of the room with his arms outstretched. His comforting smile warms your soul and sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. You never thought a hunter could feel this way or make memories like this, but you’re so grateful that you can. You know in this moment that Dean will be your forever and it only strengthens your resolve to throw the best Christmas either of you have ever experienced. You run over to him and jump into his embrace, his strong arms catch you and hold you tight.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart,” he whispers next to your ear.”

“Thank you. Merry Christmas, Baby.”

Unsurprisingly, Dean falls asleep midway through the movie. You take the opportunity to pull out your phone and order their gifts. Looking at the confirmation emails, you feel more content and positive about the chances of having a real Christmas this year. You carefully move the empty popcorn bowl to the coffee table and snuggle into your boyfriend’s weak embrace to enjoy the remainder of the sappy Christmas flick.

The next week passes quickly and it’s Christmas Eve before you know it. Over the last few days, you decorated more trees to put in the library and kitchen and baked Christmas cookies. Finally, the bunker looked, smelled and felt Christmassy, at least in the most used rooms. Your gifts had arrived and you managed to sneak away to wrap them, now all that’s left is to put them under the tree, celebrate Christmas day and then orchestrate Dean’s special present.

While Dean’s working hard in the kitchen cleaning up from his Christmas cooking, I sneak out and put the presents for them under the tree in the library where they’re most likely to see them. I then quickly sneak back to our room and snuggle up in bed while I wait for Dean to join me. The anticipation sparkles through my body making it hard to relax. I scroll through my phone to distract myself by it’s no use, every photo is of people out celebrating Christmas.

When Dean finally comes and joins me, I snuggle into his embrace and try to relax. He checks his watch and then kisses my head, “Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas my love.”

When you wake up, the bed is already empty. You’re a little disappointed at first but then you figure that Dean must be up doing something special, so you forgive him and jump out of bed to search for him. Predictably, you find him in the kitchen in front of the industrial stove. You approach quietly and wrap your arms around his chest. “Good morning, Handsome.”

“Good morning, Beautiful. Your special Christmas breakfast will be ready soon.”

You glance around him at the frying pan. It’s full of bacon and a plate of fried eggs sits to the side. “We have bacon and eggs all the time.”

“So? It’s still special.”

“I guess. I’ll be right back.” You kiss the back of his shoulder blade and then pull away. You go to the bathroom to freshen up for the morning, brush your teeth and then get changed into the dress you ordered when you ordered their gifts. It’s a bright red A-line dress with long sleeves, the hem falls around your knees and it flows around you as you move. You rarely dress up like this. The most you generally get to do is a button-down and pencil skirt when you’re pretending to be FBI or short slutty numbers when you’re playing bait in bars. This dress is cute and conservative but makes you feel so pretty. You sway a few more times in front of the mirror admiring your different look before finally emerging from your room and going back to join Dean in the kitchen. When you walk in, he’s set the table with plates, and cutlery and poured you both a mug of coffee. As a treat, he even added a dash of milk and sugar to yours. You can drink it black and often do due to not always having access to the luxury of milk and sugar, but he knows you prefer it on the sweeter side. You smile and he checks you out. He’s speechless. He nudges you towards your seat at the table.

“Sit down before I change my mind about all this and take you back to bed for breakfast instead.”

You smirk as you twirl in front of him. “You like?”

“You kidding? You’re stunning. Sometimes I forget you’re a woman and can look this beautiful.” You give him a disgruntled look and he tries to backpedal. “You know what I mean! I know you’re a woman, it’s just you never dress up like this. You’re always dressing and acting like one of the guys with me and Sam. You fit so well that sometimes it just feels like you’re one of us instead of my incredibly sexy girlfriend.” You giggle a little at his clear embarrassment and he shakes his head with a mock glare. “Sit down and eat your breakfast, it’s going cold.”

“You gonna make me?”

“Don’t tempt me I just m-” Sam comes into the room cutting off Dean as he’s about to reach for your waist and turn this day around. Not wanting him to expose his present yet, and especially not in front of Sam, you quickly sit down and sip your sweet coffee.

After a large gulp of caffeine, you finally say, “Good morning, Sam. Merry Christmas.”

“Morning, Y/N. Merry Christmas.”

“I know Dean wouldn’t have cooked it, but that meat-free bacon you like is in the fridge. I wanted-”

“You what? You know there’s no meat-free shit in the Meat-Man’s kitchen!” Dean proclaims loudly.

“One, it’s not just your kitchen, Babe. And two, that does not mean what you think it does,” you say with a pointed look before smiling back at Sam, “help yourself. Consider it your first Christmas gift.”

“Than-”

“First? Why does he get more than one?” Dean complains.

“Who said you don’t? Stop whining and eat your breakfast.”

“Or what?”

“Stop it or I’m going back to bed!” Sam says. “I’m not listening to your bedroom talk at breakfast.”

“Yeah, Y/N, stop it.” Dean teases.

“You’re so childish,” you say with a smile before diving into your breakfast.

Once you all finish eating, you help clean up and then move to the Dean Cave. Dean flops down on the two-seater and stretches his arms along the back so you can slot in beside him. You turn on the lights on the tree and then sit down beside him as Sam sits on the single recliner beside you. Dean flicks on the TV to fill the space and finds a Christmas movie playing. After a few minutes, you all realise how sappy and predictable it is, so you get up to go get your gifts from the tree in the library. You hand them to the brothers and then sit down to watch them unwrap them. Sam goes first, carefully peeling apart the paper to reveal the new fantasy book set. He flips it over to read the blurb and then thanks you, saying he can’t wait to read it. You then turn to Dean. He fiddles with the packages trying to guess what it is and you grimace, worried he’s going to break it. Then he finally rips the paper off and inspects the albums.

“These will be great to play in our new machine. Thanks, Sweetheart.” He carefully places them to the side and slaps his thighs as he gets up. “My turn I guess.” He collects two messily wrapped gifts from under the tree. He tosses one to Sam and hands the other to you gently. “Sam first,” he winks at you as he sits back down. Sam tears off the newspaper wrapping and smiles knowingly at the bottle of beer and skin mags. Then they both look at you expectantly. You take the hint and open yours. It’s small and feels solid as you turn it in your hands. You hold your breath as you peel away the paper to reveal a small velvet jewellery box. You shake your head as you look over at your boyfriend. He just nods. You close your eyes as you flick the box open.

Dean rests his hand on your bare knee urging you to look. When you finally open your eyes you see it’s a small pendant of a strange symbol hung on a thin black rope that matches his. You finally allow yourself to breathe as he takes it out of the box and ties it on your neck. With his lips near your ear, he asks, “You expected a ring?”

“Maybe…But I was more scared that it was. I love you Dean, but-”

“I know. It’s an angelic protection symbol, just FYI. Cas showed me and I made it.”

“I love it.”

Sam then gets up and retrieves two paper bags from his room. He hands one each to you and Dean. You both carefully reach into the bags at the same time pulling out a bottle of booze. Yours is a sweet strawberry and cream liquor that he caught you ordering at a bar a while ago. It was highly over priced to buy by the glass but you know it’s not something any of you would buy at a liquor store as you always get drinks you can all share or that are on the sale rack. Dean then inspects his bottle of top-shelf scotch whiskey. You know it’ll be gone in no time, but he’ll enjoy it. You both thank Sam for the thoughtful gifts and relax back into your seats.

You all spend the rest of the day relaxing in the Dean Cave watching Christmas movies until it’s time for dinner. Around 5pm Dean stands up and disappears into the kitchen to start preparing some festive food. He carves ham off the bone, heats some turkey pieces, mashes potatoes and roasts a range of seasonal veggies after covering them in salt and oil of course to make them edible in his eyes. You spend the time while he’s distracted getting your room ready for his after-dinner surprise. You make the bed nicely and lay the thin lacy dressing gown you bought with the lingerie on the end of the bed for quick change. Finally, you hang one of his ties on the door knob so you can blindfold him when the time is right.

The table is set beautifully when you finally join the brothers in the kitchen. Sam has a glass of eggnog in front of him. He pours one each for you and Dean with a small smirk and you instantly know it’s going to be strong. You take a small sip and wince. You place it down, you want to be sober-ish tonight for a seamless execution. Dean places the last of the food on the table and sits opposite you. You all start dishing up your food and try to have a lighthearted conversation that doesn’t revolve around hunting; it’s harder than you thought. As you eat, you take small sips of the eggnog. Dean smiles at you whenever you look up. As much as he’d never admit it, you know he’s enjoying celebrating Christmas as much as you are. He’s never had much chance to have anything nice or indulge in normal celebrations. Since you’ve been in his life you’ve tried to do what you can, but being a hunter makes it difficult. The most you generally manage is to buy or make him a pie and then either start or end the day with mind-blowing sex or a blow job, but if you’re hunting he rarely even gets that. That’s why you’re so determined to make today special.

Dessert comes soon after dinner is put away and cleaned up, which you’re thankful for. The nearer the end of the night gets, the more eager you get for Dean’s gift. You barely want to eat as you don’t want to go into a food coma; you want to be agile enough for the night’s activities but you know if you don’t eat it will be suspicious, so you force yourself to eat a small piece of pie slowly. Across from you, Dean scoffs his pie like it’s his last meal on Earth. You can’t help but smile. But then a blush creeps up your neck and cheeks as you imagine him eating you as passionately as he is the pie. You know he would, and likely will later tonight. You force yourself to push away the thought before they notice.

Half an hour later it’s finally acceptable to sneak away. Sam excuses himself to his room to start reading the books you gave him and you use the opportunity to sneak out of the kitchen yourself. You lean against your bedroom door as you wait patiently–or impatiently rather–for Dean to come find you. You fiddle with his tie as you wait. After what feels like an eternity, but is really only a few minutes, you hear Dean coming down the hall. You instantly straighten yourself up and put on a confident front. The second your eyes meet he smirks knowing something is up, or maybe he has plans of his own, you’re not entirely sure, but you know there’ll be time for both if he does. He picks up his pace to jog to you, but as he gets within reach you put your hands out in front of you, the tie dangling off the fingers of your right hand.

“You gonna tie me up?” he asks lowly, eyeing off the piece of material.

“Maybe…but first, lean down, you’re too tall.” He happily obliges but he kisses you briefly as he does. You take the opportunity to quickly wrap the tie over his eyes and in a bow at the back of his head. He doesn’t complain, he just uses his other, now heightened senses to continue to kiss you and hold you close. As he does, you reach behind you to turn the doorknob and slowly walk backwards into the room. Once the door is shut you step back quickly out of his reach and slip your red dress over your head, quickly replacing it with the lacey dressing gown. You tie a careful bow as Dean tries to seek you out. You stay just out of his reach as you sneak around behind him and lay carefully in the middle of the bed trying your best to pose seductively.

“Alright, come get your gift, Handsome.”

A low growl comes from his throat as he takes small careful steps towards your voice. When he’s facing you and almost against the end of the bed you tell him to take off the blindfold. He reaches behind his head quickly ripping the fabric off his head. His hair spikes up in all directions and you almost laugh, but you stay composed as his eyes run over you. “You gonna unwrap your present?”

“Fuck yeah. Just gimme a second to admire you first. So sexy.”

You stretch your legs out, reaching for him with your toes, but he quickly captures your foot and runs his calloused hand down your calf to your knee. He keeps a grip on your knee, holding you close as he crawls onto the bed. He runs his other hand down your other leg before lightly pulling them both around his waist. You cross your ankles behind his back pulling him closer. He falls to his hands, hovering over you as he continues to take in the moment. He kisses you softly before sitting back on his knees. He softly runs his fingers over the soft material before paying close attention to the bow. Savouring the moment, he unties it slowly before pushing the material away to expose the sexy red lingerie that leaves little to the imagination.

He growls lowly again as he asks, “Were you wearing this all day?” You nod and he throws his head back groaning. “I knew I should’a brought you back in here earlier.” He looks down at the thin lace covering your sex and bites his lip. “Looks like the wait was definitely worth it though. You’re so ready for me already.”

You nod. “So, why’d you stop unwrapping?” That’s all he needs to pull you up to him and strip the grown from your shoulders. He kisses you deeply as his hands explore the lace and your body. You can tell he’s searching for how to remove the barrier from your body, but it’s admittedly complicated, so you just bring his hand down to where you need him and push the fabric to the side. He obediently slides two fingers into your heat with a groan and hooks them forward. You throw your head back and his lips slide down your neck, kissing every sensitive point like he has them mapped out in his head (to be honest, he probably does).

Near your ear, he whispers, “This is the best Christmas ever. Thank you, Baby.” You gasp at his words. He rarely calls you that, that particular pet name is saved for his precious car, but whenever he does it’s during passionate moments like this and you know then that he considers you one of the most important aspects of his life. Deep down you know he’d let the Impala fall off a cliff if it meant saving you or Sam, but it’s still extremely important to him; she’s his last tangible link to his parents and you’d never begrudge him of that. Your thoughts are dragged back to the present when he pulls away. You open your eyes to glare at him when you notice he’s shedding his shirts and jeans. You use that moment to undo the hidden clasps that keep the lace in place. He shakes his head at you, knowing he never would’ve found them on his own. He reaches out his hands to pull you up to him so he can help you the rest of the way out of what looks like a very sexy trap. The second you’re both naked he gently guides you back onto the bed and crawls over you. He kisses you softly as he slides inside your wet heat with a moan. You bite down on his lower lip as he pushes all the way in, filling you perfectly. He gives you both a minute to adjust and get used to the bliss before pulling back slightly and thrusting back in with more force. You dig your fingers into his short hair as he continues to increase his pace and pressure. As he bites his lip and his little sounds intensify you can tell he’s trying to hold back and drag out the moment. You slide your hand up his left arm and lock your fingers with his before guiding his hand to your clit. He rubs small circles at just the pressure he knows gets you off as he slows his hip movements slightly, dragging out each forceful thrust. You throw your head back with a loud moan as you feel yourself let go around him. He gives you two final thrusts before finally letting himself go. He pulls his left hand back off you to hold himself up as his lower body convulses with yours. After a few seconds, he falls to the side beside you trying to catch his breath. You lay there just revelling in the pleasure too until he reaches out and pulls you to his chest. He kisses your head and says, “Merry Christmas, Baby. Best gift ever.”

“Merry Christmas my love. I completely agree.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

#dean x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader

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siri-ike · 1 day ago

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(Disclamer, I did my best with Harvey's brooklin accent.)

Danny protested at first. He needed to be in amity to protect it from angry spirits. Of course, he couldn't tell them that. Even though it is partly their fault for building the stupid portal that constantly brings in more ghosts. But it was actually team phantom that convinced him to go. Insisting it would be a well needed break from all the chaos. And a 2 hour flight would give him some time to sleep, for once.

Or at least he would have if he weren't too busy figuring out whether or not he could have gotten there faster on his own.

When he got off the plane, he couldn't use his powers. The security cameras would have caught him. So he had to walk. Was walking always this hard? Danny pulled a folded up photo from his pants pocket (Jazz insisted he should know what this guy looked like) and started searching for the huge square man, who, aside from their dress sense, looked a lot like his dad.

Harvey didn't have kids of his own. And to be honest with ya, most people didn't want him near theirs. Sure, there were a few times when he'd picked Barbara up from school and brought her to the station. And the occasional child witnesses. But that hardly counted. And when he saw the small, sickly, pale teen with eyebags rivaling the commissioners, struggle to pull a small suitcase of the baggage bealt. He knew this kid didn't need a Bullock. He needed a break.

Harvey was no monster. He was gruff, blunt, and didn't try to be nice, but he was still softer with kids. How can anyone not be? Especially someone who's been a detective in Gotham for any amount of time.

The ride home was quiet. Not for lack of effort. Harvey tried to start a conversation, and the kid did answer his questions. But every answer was quiet, monotone, and took ages to come out. It was like he hadn't slept in ages.

"I got a bed ready for ya inside," He said when they reached his apartment. "It's fine if you wanna turn in early."

Huh. He'd never gotten that offer before. His ghost sense hadn't gone off in a while, so it should be safe. But he also doesn't know this guy. "It's only 3pm." He responded, looking like he could pass out on the spot.

"What? You got school in the morning or somethin'?"

Danny just blinked, slowly trying to understand. Thinking really did get a lot harder when he stayed up too long. Eventually, he just walked into the room Bullock was pointing at. Barely remembering to use the door rather than phase.

That evening, Harvey called Jim. Not as a police commissioner but as a friend [a distinction he rarely cared to make]

'Teenagers can be a little tricky,' he had said. 'But a little trust can go a long way' theat part didn't fit with what the Fentons had told him. According to them, Danny was truble. Bullock had mentioned that, but Jim's sentiments stayed consistent. 'Build your own relationship with the boy. At that age, they wanna be independent, but obviously, you can't give him total freedom that would be dangerous. So just give him a little at a time. Let him earn it.' OK, that made sense, Harvey didn't like being told what to do all the time, so why would someone else?

By the end, Harvey had a long list of parenting tips for teens.

Danny woke up only 6:18 pm. That was pretty typical for him these days. Staying in bed had gotten so much harder since he saw what became of his future self. And with more ghosts attacking amity every day, he never really got a chance to catch his breath.

"Oh, you're up." Harvey closed his laptop and got up. "I was just about to order takeout, but we could go to the diner down the street. They have the best sandwiches." Involve teen in decisions. Check.

"Um, whichever's fastest. I'm starving." He answered, looking almost alive.

They passed two other fast food places on the three minute walk to the small empty diner aside from the middle-aged woman behind the counter. "Harvey, darlin', it's been too long." She says gleefully. "What'll it be? Usual for you and somthin' fer the kid?"

Danny just picked the first thing on the menu that didn't have a fire symbol next to it.

The two sat at a Boothe that Bullock seemed familiar in. His seat was more worn down than the others, and there were scuff marks on the table, matching where he put his arms down. Paired with how the owner talked to him.

"You like her." Danny teased.

"What?" Harvey whispered, trying not to let her hear. "Marge is sweet, an' she feeds me. But yer readn' inta things that ain't there."

"No, I'm not. Your seat is more worn than all the others. It's obviously used more. And it fits your butt perfectly." He emphasized 'butt'. "Then there's the table." He says, pointing to the scuff marks. "These are from the buttons on your coat. When you sat down, you slid your hands over the table. Presumably a habit." A smugg smile spread across his face. "And of course she called you by name."

This wasn't on the list. This wasn't on the list!

"Nice try, weisenheimer. That's just evidence of me bein' a regular. Not a skeeve. This place is near my appartment." Bullock defended, face still red. But his efforts to shut Danny down just fired him up more.

"Oh sure." He grinned. "But those other two places were closer." Harvey didn't have a response for that. "And speaking of your apartment. It's old, but you haven't lived there long." With that, Harvey was finished. There was no way to come back from this. "From the looks of it, I'd say you moved in shortly after the previous tenant died. Murdered I'd say. About two weeks ago?" Ok, so Danny may have cheated a little when he helped the preveois tenant move on.

They shoulda stood home. Harvey couldn't deny anything. He was right. He was just right. He moved into that apartment to have an excuse to see Marge more often. The rent was a bit higher than his old place, and he was further from bars, but he still wanted to live there. Cause he's a sucka.

Their discussion was cut short when Marge rang her bell and walked over, wiping some sauce on her apron. "Eat up, boys. I Mancha nice and fat before I throw you in my cauldron." She snickered in a mock witchy voice as she went back to the kitchen.

"Fine, yer right. Marge is a treasure." Bullock relents. "But that's between you and me, got it?"

Danny had no intention of spreading the word. He was just a little shit.

When they got back home, danny went straight back to sleep. This time, managing a full 5 hours. More than twice his average.

At 1:47 am. Danny left his room. He knew there wouldn't be much for him to do. He just couldn't do nothing. And there was Uncle Harvey. Dressed, strapped, and ready to leave.

Danny's eyes lit up. "Was there a muder? Are you going to a case?" He beamed. "Can I come?"

"Absolutely not. Kids your age shouldn't be around dead bodies."

"Come on, my parents are ghost hunters. I've seen enough death."

"Exactly, you've seen enough death."

"I'll behave. I promise." The kid begged. Why does he want this?

"Look, you've got a TV over there and a laptop, you could video chat your friends or somthin'. I can't take ya ta a crime scene." Are all kids like this? Is that why the bats always got his birds around.

Danny's face looked disappointed but not in a 'im going to do as I'm told but I'm not happy about it' kind of way. It was more of a 'oh, bother, guess I have to sneak' kind of way. Which is exactly what Bullock would do. What did Jim's advice say again?

"Tell ya what. You stay here until... at least 7. And I'll bring ya to the station tomorrow. During lunch. You stay inside till 7, then you can go out, maybe make some friends. And at 12 I'll come here and pick ya up. Sound good?" Show him that listening to you is more rewarding than not listening to you. Check.

Danny looked over at the laptop and considered the offer. "Ok, I'll stay till 7 and be here by 12." This guy was completely different from his parents. They never offer a compromise.

DCXDP prompt

Summer of change.

Maddie Fenton was many things, and a patient mother of two was only one of them. Here lately, however, Maddie found her patience wearing thin with their youngest child. Now she loved Danny. He was her son, after all, but here lately, his actions and overall dismissive attitude towards everything from his grades to his responsibilities was starting to get to her.

She and Jack had tried everything they could think of to try and get Danny to behave and reconsiderhis actions. From taking away his phone, restricting time with his friends, to full-on grounding him. Nothing seemed to work. They were running out of options, but there was one last thing she wanted to try before, even considering bringing up the suggestion of military school to her husband.

"Hey Jack?" She called to her husband from the living room." Yeah, Madds?" He called back from his position over the kitchen table as he tried to fix the trigger on their latest invention. Hoping that this will be what they'll need to finally catch that ectoplasmic nuisance of a ghost boy.

"Your cousin, the one from Gotham; the one you introduced me to at our wedding. He's a cop, right?"

-------------------------------------------------------

Detective Harvey Bullock was a man of little patience and even less tolerance to the kind of nonsense that the usual scum of Gotham City drummed up.

The only times he could ever really recall ever having more patience and tolerance than a saint was when he was growing up with his favorite cousin. So when said favorite cousin called him up out of the blue, asking for a favor, Bullock did little else, then say, "Sure thing," and " anything for you, little Jacky.'

That was how he got roped into looking after his cousins son for the summer. At first, he was hesitant. Asking Jack if he was sure he wanted to do that. After all, he didn't really have much experience with kids( and no, the Bats kids don't count).

But when Jack started telling him about all the trouble his kid was getting into. The arguments, the mysterious bruises, the skipping school, etc. The boy was on the start of a one-way street down to a bad place, and Bullock didn't like it. So he sucked it up and asked his cousin when he could send him.

Now Harvey knew he wasn't a good role model, that Gotham wasn't the safest place for any saine parent to raise a child, let alone send one here; but now that he was told what was going on with Danny. Bullock found himself determined to get the teen to turn over a new leaf. "Who knows," he thought to himself hopefully, "maybe Gotham was the perfect place for him to do it?"

#dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #harvey bullock #danny fenton #danny phantom #gotham #fanfic

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sissylittlefeather · 3 days ago

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12 Days of Ficmas

Day 3: The Sound of Your Cry

A/N: @vsangel-sparkle I hope you like this! It was tough to write. This song is such a heartbreaker! But I think it turned out pretty well. Hope you agree!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, angst/smut, oral sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, ejaculation, infidelity

Word count: ~800

His lips are so soft on your fingertips as he kisses them before moving to your neck. You moan softly as he presses kisses to you. This isn't the first time you've found yourself with Elvis like this. In fact, it's been going on for quite some time. You know you're the other woman. You'd have to be an idiot not to know he has a girl back home that he's set to marry. But you love him so much that you don't care. So here in LA you make him yours as often as he'll let you.

And that's how you find yourself here again with him wrapped around you, praying that it never ends. Now he's kissing the supple skin of your breasts, pulling one nipple into his mouth as his hand roams down to your hip and squeezes.

“You're so beautiful, baby.” He murmurs against your skin. You know what he means by that. It's his coded way of telling you that he loves you. You want to respond that you love him with your whole heart, but you'd hate to put him on the spot like that, so instead you just moan softly as his kisses move down your body. He gets to your hip and gives you a little love bite, earning a small yelp from you. He chuckles and moves over to your center, dragging his tongue up your slit.

“I love those little noises, baby. Lemme hear you.” He buries his face in your pussy, pushing his tongue into you and then moving it up to your sensitive bud to circle it. You whimper and moan and make all the little sounds he can't get enough of. Truth be told, he loves you more than the girl he's supposed to marry, but he'll take that secret to the grave. His nuptial arrangement is unavoidable, and it's not that he doesn't love her. He just loves you more.

You lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on you, the overwhelming pleasure sending you over into an abyss of ecstasy easily. He licks you through your climax and you shudder and pulse and grind into his face. When you finish, he wipes his mouth with his hand and kisses back up your body. He settles himself between your legs and teases you for a bit before pushing into you slowly. You groan as he presses more hot kisses to your neck as he starts to slide in and out of you, slow and sensual.

He tells himself that what he's doing is fucking you, but he knows it's not true. He's making love to you in the only way he can: with his heart and soul so invested it almost hurts. And he knows. He knows that this has to be the last time. So he kisses you and touches you and inhales your scent a little more than normal, hoping you don't notice that something's different.

Of course you do and it almost breaks you, but you can't let him know that, so instead you roll your hips and whimper and moan just like you have every other time. You both start to sweat, your skin sticking to his when it touches, like even your bodies don't want to let go. Eventually, he pulls out and pumps his cock, spilling himself on your stomach. He sighs, wishing just this once that he'd been able to finish inside you, but it's a risk he knows he can't take. Once he's got you cleaned up with a towel, he rolls over and pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead. You fall asleep against his chest when you feel his breathing even out and know he's asleep too.

*****

He kneels next to the bed and looks at you as you sleep. The clock reads 4:53am and the sky is gray with the beginning hints of sunrise. He pushes your hair out of your face and kisses your cheek and then your lips. You stir a little and he inhales sharply. It's vital that you don't wake up. He couldn't leave you if you did and he has to leave you. He doesn't have a choice. His heart feels like it's in a vice and there are tears in his eyes when he leans in close and whispers.

“I love you, baby. I always will.”

Then, he forces himself to stand up and walk out. It might be the hardest thing he's ever done, but there's nothing else left for him to do. He pulls the door closed behind himself and looks up at the sky, cursing fate for the cruel twist that led him to you. Now he has to miss you forever.

As soon as the latch clicks and you know he's gone, you open your eyes. You whisper into the semi-darkness.

“I love you too, Elvis.”

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #12 days of ficmas

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slaymitchabernathy · 2 days ago

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Naughty or Nice?

| "I'm talkin' deckin' all the halls, I'm talkin' spikin' eggnog. I'm talkin' opposite of small, I'm talkin' big snowballs. You got a new toy for me, I'm out here trimmin' the tree. I caught that holiday glee, my true love gave it to me." |

“Go to bed girls,” Coriolanus says once more, only his head pokes through the opening of the doors. He watches the girls giggle, doing their best to convince him that they’ll be on their best behavior but they probably won’t.

“If you don’t go to sleep then Santa won’t come and bring you presents.”

The girls gasp and shush each other making him grin. Lying about Santa isn’t the best thing to do but it’s earned him stellar behavior from all three of his children the past month.

The moment one of them was on the cusp of a tantrum, Coriolanus was threatening to tell Santa. Soarynn had chided him on it, claiming it wasn’t fair to hold it over their heads but he figured he only had ten years with each child before they started putting two and two together so he wouldn’t waste this precious momentum.

And the children were excellently behaved tonight. He took his family to the ballet with some good friends of theirs and then they ended the night at one of their favorite restaurants. The children ate all their food and used their best manners.

At twenty-six, Coriolanus Snow feels on top of the world. He’s doing great at work, has a beautiful home, and the perfect wife who's blessed him with three perfect, beautiful children.

Coriolanus closes the doors to his eldest daughter’s bedroom feeling very pleased with how his life has turned out so far.

His girls had begged to sleep in the same bed so they could wait for Santa and he eventually gave in after enough pouting.

He makes his way through the living room, admiring their beautiful tree. Soarynn decorated it beautifully with red garlands and golden accents along with shiny ornaments. Tons of presents sit under the tree, gifts for the family from the family.

He’ll have to slip the ones from Santa under the tree later tonight once the children are really asleep. Even if they were little tyrants tonight, there’s no way in hell he’d let any of those presents go to waste. He’s spent a small fortune on them, well, his wife spent a small fortune on them.

He was simply the one writing the check.

He walks into the kitchen and eyes the plate of cookies they left for Santa. They do look quite delicious and that glass of warm milk is calling his name.

He licks his lips, maybe a little late-night treat wouldn’t hurt. He’s just about the grab a cookie when his wife’s voice scares the shit out of him, “Coriolanus Snow.”

He jumps and turns around, giving her a sheepish smile while she stands under the doorway, hands on her hips, not looking too impressed with his behavior, “I was a bit peckish,” he explains.

Soarynn raises an eyebrow, “Those are for Santa,” she nods at the plate of decorated cookies, “not for you.”

Coriolanus rolls his eyes, certainly no one would’ve noticed if he ate one cookie. And he’s going to have to take a bite out of one before the children wake up so why not get a head start? “You don’t want to get a lump of coal in your stocking,” Soarynn tells him.

To Soarynn’s credit, they’ve had a wonderful holiday season. She’s made sure that they’ve done every activity under the sun from meeting Santa to going sledding. She’s not about to let him throw all her hard work down the drain, “Are the children asleep?” She asks, stepping into the kitchen. Coriolanus hums, eyeing the cookies one last time, “Yes darling, tucked into bed with sugarplums dancing above their heads or however the song goes.”

Soarynn smiles, but not her usual smile, no, this smile has sinister intentions behind it. “Good, because I have a gift for you.”

Oh, well that’s not sinister at all.

“Really? Well I’ll open it tomorrow morning darling,” he says, going to the cupboard to grab himself a wine glass, they might as well end the night watching a film while cuddling on the sofa.

“It’s for tonight.”

He looks over his shoulder at Soarynn who bats her eyelashes at him, “Come to our room in fifteen minutes,” she instructs. She leaves before he can ask any questions and his mouth suddenly feels very dry. Soarynn isn’t one for random surprises, no, she values routine above everything else.

He begins to think of the worst, perhaps she broke something and was waiting for a good time to tell him. Maybe she wants him to hang up another picture frame, it wouldn’t be the first time.

Or…or maybe she got another kitten.

Coriolanus suddenly feels lightheaded and grips the counter for support. His entire life is flashing before his eyes. Two cats are diabolical. He’ll have to put his foot down, simple as that. He’s the man of the house and he simply cannot tolerate two Petunias.

He might as well have that wine now. Heaven knows he’ll need it.

Fifteen minutes pass at an agonizing pace, too slow for him to handle but Soarynn won’t let him into their bedroom a minute earlier. He knows that much.

He glances up at the clock and sighs, it’s finally ten o’clock. Time to face his doom.

He finishes off his wine and sets the glass in the sink before trudging down the hallway to their bedroom. He’s so busy feeling sorry for himself that he doesn’t even notice the rose petals on the floor leading up to their bedroom. Only when he’s about to open the doors does he realize that her gift could be something very different.

He cautiously opens the doors, peeking his head in just in case and what he sees causes his jaw to go slack.

Soarynn. On the bed. Wearing red sheer tights with lingerie under the tights and a red bow wrapped around her waist. She’s wearing a gorgeous red lacy bralette as well and she looks like an absolute vision.

She’s sitting on her knees, wearing a proud smile when she sees his shocked expression.

“Come in darling,” she purrs, beckoning him in with the wave of her finger.

Like the lovesick fool he is, Coriolanus stumbles into the bedroom like he’s in a trance, shutting the doors behind him and swearing to treat this woman like the goddess she is for the rest of their lives.

“This is…this is something,” he finally says, stopping once he reaches the bed. Soarynn softly chuckles and pops up on her knees so that they’re almost at the same height, “I just wanted to give you an extra special gift, you know, for all you do for me.”

Coriolanus swallows when she goes to undo his tie, “All I…all I do for you?” He squeaks when she pulls the tie off him, “Mhm, all you do to take care of me,” she sweetly explains, undoing the buttons on his shirt next. “You take such good care of me Coryo and I just wanted to find a special way to thank you.”

Coriolanus decides right then and there that he’s the luckiest man alive.

And she looks so gorgeous. Her hair and makeup are the same from the ballet and dinner. Parted down the side with light yet perfect makeup to enhance her natural beauty.

He rests a hand on her hip and resists the urge to rip these tights right off of her. But he should be patient. Yes, patient. But he’s never been good at being patient. That’s Soarynn’s specialty.

“Well this is very nice,” he tells her, helping her slide off his white shirt, baring his chest to her, “very, very nice. Where did you get the bow?”

Soarynn smiles up at him, “It’s a secret.”

Right.

“Alright, well can I unwrap my present now?” He asks with a teasing smile, desperate to get his hands on her and more importantly, get her under him.

Soarynn shakes her head and it damn near crushes his hopes and dreams, “Not yet,” she says softly, dragging her hand down his chest towards his belt, “first, I want to give you a smaller gift.” Soarynn cups his hardened length right through his trousers and smirks when he gasps. She’s never ever been this straightforward and he can’t help but ask.

Who is this woman and what has she done with his shy, timid little wife?

The Soarynn he knows rarely ever engages in sexual activity first, she always lets him take the lead which he doesn’t mind at all. He loves being in charge and loves that she trusts him enough to do the things they do but this behavior is entirely different.

“Oh,” is all he says, his voice a croak.

Soarynn nods and slowly unbuckles his belt, "You've just been so stressed darling," she says, almost like she's pouting, "so busy with work, providing for our family. Sometimes you don't even come to bed until early in the morning."

Well, well...well, she has a point. The holiday season is always hectic with work and despite it being a "family-oriented holiday", Coriolanus always finds himself buried in end-of-the-year paperwork. Soarynn understands, of course, someone has to pay the bills but she's taking matters into her own hands it seems.

Literally.

She lets the belt fall to the ground and unzips his trousers at an agonizing pace, like she's teasing him and he's not even fully naked yet. Coriolanus feels frozen, only allowed to watch her palm his length while looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes, like a little vixen.

"Sit down," she says and he nearly sits on the floor. "On the chair," she elaborates pointing over at the sitting area they have in their room.

Who is he to disobey her?

He kicks off his trousers and walks over to the armchair he sits in every night before getting ready for bed. He slowly sinks into the chair and watches with great fascination as Soarynn slowly slips off the bed. Now that she's standing, he can fully admire her outfit and can see that she's wearing red high heels as well.

She's going to fucking kill him.

She's wearing this proud smirk because she knows, she knows she's got him in the palm of her hand.

Once she reaches him and bends down until her lips are ghosting his, "Keep your hands on the chair," she whispers, looking into his eyes with such ferocity that he almost feels scared.

He nods and Soarynn smiles. She carefully sinks down in front of him, on her knees once again and his cock is begging to be touched. Soarynn slips a finger under the waistband of his boxers, causing his breath to hitch. He is the one who teases her like this, but he surprisingly doesn't mind that the roles have been reversed.

Soarynn hums and finally pulls down his boxers, releasing his cock that's already gathered precum at the tip. Soarynn gently grabs it and starts stroking it up and down, up and down. Coriolanus clenches his teeth, it feels so fucking good. He wishes he could just grab her hair like he usually does but he's under specific orders to keep his hands away from her.

He knows what she really meant by that demand: "Stop throat fucking me you impatient, unappreciative bastard."

Soarynn never complains when giving him a blow job but he always likes to be in charge, set the pace. Not tonight though.

Soarynn finally sticks out her tongue and swirls it around his very sensitive tip. He jerks in his seat, gripping the armrests for dear life. She looks up at him, a twinkle in her eyes while he tries to compose himself, restrain himself from grabbing a fistful of her hair, and fucking her throat until she cries.

She maintains eye contact as she takes him into her mouth and it's an ungodly sight that nearly makes him cum right then and there. Soarynn would never admit this, but she's very good at giving head. She can take him all the way down which is a very impressive feat where he's concerned. Coriolanus is well aware that he's well endowed, long in length with enough girth to stretch her out every single time.

She takes him like a champ, bobbing her head up and down, licking the underside of his shaft at the same time and his breathing is becoming labored. He can't remember the last time she gave him head, he's been...well, he's been busy! With work!

And Soarynn is here to remind him of what he's been missing out on.

Soarynn plays with his balls with her other hand and Coriolanus moans, unable to look away no matter how much it kills him to do so. She's just so sexy, so fucking irresistible with his cock buried in her throat. Soarynn takes him all the way down and holds it and he cries out, "Fuck Soarynn!"

He leans forward, pushing his cock further down his throat and Soarynn lets out a gagged groan. She probably didn't think this entirely through, and he doesn't need his hands to properly fuck his wife's throat but before he can do it again, she squeezes his balls hard.

Coriolanus lets out a pained scream and Soarynn pulls herself completely off of him, gasping for air while he does the same.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her lipstick is slightly smudged and she has a murderous look in her eyes. "Really? You couldn't control yourself one time Coriolanus?"

He sputters while trying to come up with a proper apology or explanation as to why it's impossible not to watch her gag on his cock but she's not hearing it. "Thought you could handle it," she mutters, standing back up. Coriolanus reaches out for her, still painfully hard by the way.

"Soarynn," he calls, "darling, come back, let me try again, I'm sorry. I'll be perfectly behaved."

Soarynn walks over to the bed and bends down, looking for something apparently. He watches her with a puzzled look on his face but it fades quickly when she stands back up with his belt in her hands.

"Absolutely not," he says, shaking his head when she starts walking back over to him. "Soarynn, there's no way in hell I'm gonna let you tie me up."

She feigns a saddened look and rolls her eyes, "Oh really? Because your cock is leaking and we both know you'd rather kill yourself than handle it alone."

His teeth click from how quickly he shuts his mouth.

Who the fuck is this dominatrix?

And what has she done with his wife?

She holds her hands as wide as her shoulders, making the belt go taut between her hands, "The choice is yours, darling. Finish by yourself, or play by my rules for once. You tie me up all the time and I never complain."

He does love to tie her up. It's so fun to see her whine and struggle, to see her take everything he gives her. To see her pretty eyes fill with tears when she gets too stimulated.

He's shooting himself in the foot because he's only getting harder now that he's thinking about it.

Soarynn notices too and smirks, "Choose," she tells him, "are you gonna play naughty, or nice?"

Coriolanus wishes there were a third option such as: 'beg for forgiveness' but her tone is anything but forgiving.

He swallows not only his spit but his pride too, "Nice," he mumbles.

Soarynn grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head back, "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you, darling, say it again, louder this time," she orders, a wicked look in her eyes. He knows exactly what she's doing because two weeks ago he said the exact same thing to her during sex.

He's going to have to watch what he says from now on because she's clearly been keeping score.

He glares up at her, "Nice," he spits out, "I'll be fucking nice."

Soarynn chuckles and lets go of his hair, "Mhm, you'll be my good boy?"

Well, fuck.

His throat bobs from the new petname. He's got a whole list of petnames for her when they're in the bedroom, ranging from "sweet girl" to "my little mindless fuckdoll" but he's never been called this before.

He kinda likes it.

"Yes," he says, much nicer this time.

"Hands," she says, the same way he says it whenever he ties her up. Coriolanus sighs but holds up his hands, wrists right next to each other. Soarynn tilts her head and studies him for a moment, "Actually, put them behind your back," she purrs.

He begrudgingly puts his hands behind his back and bends forward so that Soarynn can tie his hands with his belt. With his own fucking belt. Soarynn gives him a pat on the back once she's done, "There we go, that wasn't so hard was it?"

He hangs his head, "No."

She slides two fingers under his chin and tilts his face up, "What was that?"

Coriolanus wants to be an asshole, be defiant and give her a hard time but for his own safety and sanity, he remains well-behaved. "No," he says louder, "it wasn't that hard."

Soarynn giggles and leans down to press a kiss to his nose, "Exactly, now let's try again, hmm?"

It's embarrassing how eagerly he nods for her to sink back down to her knees but he does. Soarynn settles in front of his cock again and this time, he's prepared to be tortured. Soarynn takes his hardened length into her hand and strokes him up and down a few times before she sticks out her tongue and starts licking his shaft, slowly to tease him.

Coriolanus moans, throwing his head back while he fights to break his hands free but it's no use, she's tied him up very well. She's been taking notes apparently.

When she takes him into her mouth again, his toes are curling and his teeth are grinding. It feels so fucking good. Soarynn bobs her head up and down, still looking him in the eye but this time, he's truly at her mercy. Soarynn stops at the tip and swirls her tongue around like it's a goddamn lollipop and he almost loses his mind.

"Oh fuck," he gasps, sweat forming on his brow, "fuck I'm close."

Soarynn keeps a steady pace, using her other hand to pump his shaft while she focuses on torturing his overly sensitive tip. He can feel himself getting closer and closer and, "Oh fuck Soarynn," he moans, spilling into her throat.

It's strange not to be able to grab her hair or hold her head down. All he can do is sit there and squirm while he cums. He watches Soarynn close her eyes while his cum spurts down her throat, continuing to pump his shaft.

He gasps at how good it feels and leans back in the chair, riding out his prolonged orgasm. When he finally stops, he's out of breath.

"Fuck that was good," he says, closing his eyes.

He's ready for a shower, well, maybe one round of sex, and then a shower.

Soarynn starts bobbing her throat up and down again.

Coriolanus sits right back up, eyes wide with confusion as his wife keeps sucking him off as if he didn't just cum right down her throat. "Soarynn," he gasps, trying to buck her off of him, "what're you doing?" She only moans while continuing to suck him off, going at a much faster pace this time.

"Shit," he grits out, "Soarynn, I...I can't, fuck, Soarynn!"

She looks back up at him and he can see how much she's enjoying this, enjoying how he's completely helpless, depending on her for his next orgasm which he doesn't even think he can handle but that's beside the point.

Like fucking clockwork, another orgasm is approaching and Coriolanus might just die if he reaches it. But Soarynn is clearly trying to kill him. Coriolanus whimpers, digging his fingernails into his palms as he feels himself getting closer again.

Soarynn lets go of his shaft and brings her hand down to his balls and he blacks out.

Coriolanus doesn't know how long he stays unconscious, he only starts to feel his body again when he feels Soarynn's nails gently scratching his scalp. He groans and slowly opens his eyes, blinking from the bright lights. The first thing he sees is Soarynn, smiling at him which is a nice thing to see when you come back from the dead.

She's sitting in his lap and that's when Coriolanus realizes that she's untied his hands. The evil, mischievous little part of him wants to take her right here and now and show her who's really in charge.

But the gentle, and overstimulated part of him simply rests his hands on her waist and leans into her touch. Soarynn chuckles, "Good choice." He furrows his eyebrows and she kisses his cheek, "If you tried to fuck me right now, you wouldn't even be able to stand, let alone use your cock."

Coriolanus blushes, he's never seen her so confident, so sure of herself. It's like they've switched places for one night only. "That was...that was amazing," he finally says, his voice slightly scratchy, "what the fuck was that?"

Soarynn laughs, resting her head on his shoulder with a content hum, "Oh, I don't know," she sighs, kicking her feet as they dangle off the side of the chair, "I just thought you might enjoy something different, something where you don't have to make all the decisions all the time."

He runs his fingers through her long blonde hair, feeling how soft it is, "Part of me wanted to jump you," he admits, remembering how frustrated he had been. "I know," she says sweetly, trailing her other hand up and down his bare chest. "But the other part of me was so...so hypnotized by you," he says, still in awe, "you turned into a new person."

Soarynn laughs, lifting her head so she can look him in the eyes again, "You like control," she tells him pointedly, "always have, always will and I like giving it to you. But it's nice to switch things up every once in a while, don't you think?"

Coriolanus is nodding before he can even stop himself. It is nice.

"Yeah," he says, nosing her jaw, "it's really nice."

Soarynn shifts on his lap and he's once again painfully aware of how sensitive his cock is. He's not hard but he could be very quickly. "Do you wanna fuck me now?" She asks him, batting those eyelashes the way she always does. Coriolanus swallows and looks at her sexy outfit again, "Maybe," he mumbles.

Soarynn giggles and grabs his jaw in her hand, "Do you wanna fuck me from behind? And make me take it over and over again?" She nods his head for him and his cock is starting to twitch again but she's on a roll again, "You wanna fuck me until I'm crying, and fill my cunt up with your cum since I belong to you and only you?"

"Yes," he says before she can say anything else, crashing his lips onto her lips. Soarynn smiles into the kiss and rests her hand on his neck while his hands grip her waist tightly. They move in sync, knowing exactly what to do after being together for over nine years.

"Good," she whispers, slightly pulling away, "because I really didn't want to have to be on top."

Coriolanus laughs, kissing her again but softer this time, taking his time to appreciate his beautiful, sexy, smart wife who gave him a Christmas Eve to remember.

"Only good girls get to be on top," he mumbles against her lips, "and you've been very naughty."

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eliasorchard · 2 days ago

Text

i once held the sun — louis j. moriarty x f!reader

: afraid of losing you too, louis decides to push you away first. but things change once his brothers return. he finds himself doing everything in his power to try with you once more. what he doesn't know, is that, after his absence of three years—another presence, a little one had been budding besides you.

: okay i did not expect to stretch this out for so long 😭 i'm sorry for the wait, but here's your fic @crouchingapple :) when i first started this i didn't write it with the intention of writing this long, but i hope you'll like it 🗣️

: 4k+ words. damn....

: louis james moriarty x f!reader, angst, divorce, louis tries to win you back, mentions of death and terrorism, ambiguous ending. i think that's it?

if anybody asked what louis's deepest fear was, you'd—or anyone else really, joke about how it could range from 'finding suspicious marks in the laundry' or 'wilted greens in his cooking'.

but if you delved deeper past the high walls he puts up, looked at the core of the hollow space he could call his heart, it would spell one thing only 'abandonment'. for as long as he knows, he's been bestowed the gift of life, promoted by his brothers' protection. yet, has anybody, in all of the years of his life really asked him if he wanted this? a chance at life and once again?

"good mornin'...." your slurry voice pulled him back from his thoughts, well—most of them. some still lingered in the back of his head. on most mornings, louis simply spends a long time in bed getting ready to exist for the day. his existence is heavy.

the surgery that saved his life, then the protection of his brothers that lasted up until his older brother fell from the bridge and his eldest brother was prosecuted for the crimes that they all committed, that they all were a part of. why is he the only one left behind? why is he the only one that survives?

and yes, perhaps he should be grateful—but what use is a gift he does not want? what use is a life where his family isn't together?

"good morning, (name)." he pulled your body closer to him, embracing the warmth that your body provided. you were so soft early in the mornings, and felt nothing short of heavenly to touch and simply be with. "did you have a good sleep?"

"i did," you smiled at him—lazy and sleepy all at once. it was an endearing sight. louis vowed to protect you in his mind. no matter what it would cost him. after all, you were the only alive presence in the walls of this house. "did you?"

louis nodded. "more or less." and then the telephone rang.

he, quickly alerted, propped himself up on his elbows, picking the telephone that was on the nightstand beside him. both you and him knew who would call so early in the morning.

"yes.... yes, of course... alright then, i will be right there." he would answer back between every few pauses, the caller speaking between them. eventually, he put the telephone down and looked at you, shooting you an apologetic glance.

he'd planned to take the day off and spend the entire day with you, and with that in mind, you'd taken your day off at your job too. but duty calls. perhaps at the worst of times.

"it's okay, louis." you said to him, sending him an encouraging smile. with a hand gesture, you dismissed him. "i'll be fine. at least i'll have the day to spoil myself. you go on."

with furrowed eyebrows, he got off the bed, changing into his outdoor clothes. he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "i'm sorry." he mumbled anyway. "i'll see you later this evening. i love you."

"of course." you answered back, although your voice was slightly tighter. monotonous. rehearsed. you both knew he was lying when he would say he would come home soon or anywhere around the evening/afternoon during job days. "i love you, too."

the door clicked shut.

"absolutely not." louis exclaimed, but you would not listen to him. he was feeling frustrated. infact, why should you? nobody gets to dictate what things you do or how you do them.

"are you even listening to yourself?" you shot back. you gestured towards his body, which was a bandaged, bloody mess. crime rates had risen after the fall of the lord of crime, and crime syndicates and organized crime would often fall into wars—with the M16 trying to eradicate the groups and ease the fear that had been simmering in the minds of the people of britain.

and this was the outcome of it—a terrorist attack.

"you can't go out there again," you were firm. it was one of the things that made louis fall in love with you. "not in this state."

"i have a job to do out there, (name). lives are at stake. it's dangerous out there. people are dying." louis huffed.

"i understand, i do, but you're not in the state to lead M16 right now. i have experience with this, i've done this with you and the others before. i can do this, louis. please. trust me, won't you?"

"it's not about trust, god— it's—" louis snapped his mouth shut. you shot him an inquisitive look, raising an eyebrow, waiting for him to say something. but he didn't. how could he say anything to you at all? you were right. you were capable in every sense, you were smart, had a good relationship with everyone else.. it's almost like you were perfect for the job. he was just afraid.

afraid of something happening to you. to you, of all people. terrified, absolutely terrified you would leave him as well.

"well..?"

louis sighed, resigned and tired. he'd been out there for 24 hours. the wounds and the fatigue was getting to him. "alright..."

"i'm glad!" you squealed, hugging him (perhaps too tightly) and forcing a pained groan to leave his chapped lips.

the fluorescent lights of the emergency shelter burned into your eyes as you sit on the edge of the bed. it's too bright here—too clean. too still. you can still hear the dull hum of the explosion.

that constant ringing in your ears, as if the sound had been carved into your skull. you can't shake it. it won't leave you. it's all you can hear. the doctor is speaking to you, but her lips are moving like she's underwater. the words don’t reach you, just echoes in the distance, hollow and thin. incomprehensible.

"can you hear me? hello? blink if you can hear me."

you look down at your hands, fingers trembling. the blood on your shirt isn’t yours—at least you don’t think it is. everything around you feels strange. the fabric feels sticky and damp, clinging to your skin. you're shaking violently. you can't feel it.

everything that was said was a low hum. the doctor spoke to her nurses in a quiet yet determined manner. "patient’s non-responsive. let’s check for any signs of head trauma or further shock. we may need a sedative or anything to stabilize."

the doctor waved a hand in front of your face. "can you try to hold my hand? anything at all to tell us you're aware?"

she’s checking your vitals, but you're not here. you're back there. in the smoke. in the chaos. among the dead bodies.

"(name)?!" your name was being shouted at the top of somebody's lungs. familiar, you think. there's panic in the voice. great horror and fear. desperation. hope. "(name)— where are you? (name)! please, please tell me where you are!"

you want to call out but your tongue feels heavy.

the new voice finally cuts through the static. you blinked and saw the doctor, her face blurry at the edges. her words slowly filtered in, but you didn't understand them. you see, but you don't register. the doctor turns to face a new face. it's louis. they exchanged a few words, he turns towards you and—

"thank god— thank god you're safe," louis was clutching tightly onto you, as if you would be gone forever if he let go. his face was buried into your neck, shuddering breaths leaving him. tears from his eyes pool down the length of your neck. "(name), i was so worried, i— i thought i would lose you.."

and suddenly it clicks. you're pulled back from the depths of your mind. and the memories come flashing in bursts; screams. crying. wails of injured stray animals. smoke. the rush of people, the press of piles upon piles of bodies trying to get away, the chaos swallowing them whole. you think you saw several people go down, but everything after that is a blur. there was no time to react, no time to process. just running. just trying to survive.

a tear trickles down your cheek. your throat feels tight. then more tears: an incessant waterfall that refuses to stop. the moment his hands touch you, something inside you snaps. the numbness, the disconnection, all of it shatters, and you feel everything all at once. overwhelmingly so. your body collapses into him, shaking uncontrollably. you don’t even realize your fingernails are digging into him, but you can’t let go. you can’t.

"louis— louis i was so scared, i— there were so many bodies. so much blood. so much gore," everything rushes past you like a broken dam. "i should've known! i should've done something! i should've been able to save all those people— i failed! i failed!"

"nonono— please, pretty, it wasn't your fault. none of it was. it never will be." louis says hurriedly, brows furrowed in worry. his breath hitches as he holds you, his own panic simmering beneath the surface — but he tries to stay steady for you. "oh, (name)..." he whispers, voice breaking. "shhh.. you're okay, you’re okay now, (name)… you're safe here. i'm here with you, shh..."

you should feel relief, right? you made it out. you're alive. louis is right here, holding you. but instead there’s this emptiness, this strange void where the emotions should've been. maybe this is what shock feels like. maybe this is just how it is now. you wonder if you'll ever hear anything besides this ringing again.

survivor's guilt is an all consuming thing.

you could have never in a hundred years prepared yourself for the news he dropped on you friday night. you knew he had been acting strange for some time now: tense, heavy and conflicted. but you certainly never would've expected this, of all. he was terrified. terrified of something happening to you, especially after what happened only a few weeks ago.

"mr. louis wishes to file a divorce with you," the lawyer placed the divorce papers on the table in front of you.

"what?" your tome of voice was sharp. unbelieving. the very notion of divorce seemed absurd to you. "divorce? please, i don't like jokes like these— where's louis? i want to meet louis."

"my client does not wish to talk to you, mrs. (name)." his lawyer looked at you, unfeeling and cold, as if you were some sort of unworthy pest. "all we require from you is your signature," he tapped at the lower end of the page. "....right here."

you could feel tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. how could he? rage and anguish were a heavy combination and you, standing, had to grasp onto a chair to ground yourself. he didn't even bother coming here himself? was he ever such a coward?

after a rather lengthy talk with louis's lawyer, you finally relented and picked up the pen he'd passed to you. your tears had dried long ago. now all that remained was numbness. "fine." you said flatly, voice hoarse, and imprinted your signature on the paper.

"should we get more apples?"

"damnit, we've been walking around and buying things all day. this wasn't why i accompanied the two of you, ya know."

fred and louis exchanged glances amongst each other, then shrugged, nodding amongst themselves. louis had sworn to himself that he wouldn't return to this part of the city again, but the venue was already set and he didn't want to inconvenience his reunited brothers. "you're right... perhaps we have been buying a little too much."

"thank god for common sense," moran exclaims, sarcastic yet grateful.

"it's just... my brothers have come home after years. i thought we could have dinner together. like the old days." louis muttered.

moran slung an arm around louis's shoulder, to which the blond flinched, visibly annoyed—but held his tongue. fred smiled. the three chatted amongst themselves until moran pointed something out. "hey, wait.. hold on. ain't that your ex-wife?"

but perhaps he shouldn't have, because he watched the subtle, barely noticeable smile on louis's face drop, eyes widening.

there you were, after three years—strolling around the afternoon market as well. you looked more tired than before. aged. but yet there was still a smile present on your face. softer, but heavy.

"please put these in the bag as well.." "of course, miss."

what hit louis harder in the guts was when a little girl, not older than three years came rushing up to you and wrapped his little fingers around your index. "can we go home please?"

"alright, my dear," you ruffle the girl's hair a bit and smile down at her. "i'm almost done here, okay? and we'll go home."

the world shifted for louis. his pulse roared in his ears, drowning out the bustling sounds of the market. his heart was beating unusually fast. this child, there was something about her that took louis's breath away from a suspicion.

"louis?" moran’s voice broke through the haze, but louis didn’t respond. his gaze stayed fixed on you, on the child. your back was turned as you carefully handed the grocer another item, a calm smile still gracing your face, but your shoulders were tense—always ready, as if you were carrying something heavier than the bag you clutched. and louis couldn’t look away.

"fred—do you see this?" moran murmured, his voice hushed.

"she has a kid." fred frowned, stealing a glance at louis before muttering, "we should go. louis—" but louis stepped forward, barely hearing them. his legs moved on instinct, his heart in his throat. he'd practiced this speech several times, the apologies he'd say to you, the amends he'd make.. but now that you're all of a sudden infront of louis, louis's words fail himself too easily.

"(name)..?"

your name came out hoarse, like a breath dragged from his chest. you froze. slowly, you turned, the smile slipping from your lips as your gaze locked with his.

your eyes widened, then narrowed slightly, guarded. "louis." the girl tugged at your hand, looking up at you with innocent curiosity. "mom? who’s that?"

mom.

the word sliced a blade of guilt through his ribs.

"just... an old friend, darling." your voice was steady, but louis didn’t miss the slight tremor underneath. you smoothed the girl’s hair gently before straightening, pulling her just a little closer.

"is she—?" louis started, but his voice cracked, and he couldn’t finish. the question hung between you, heavy and unspoken.

"don't." you whispered sharply, the softness in your expression replaced with something colder. protective.

louis swallowed hard. "why didn’t you tell me?" you stared at him, and for a moment, he thought you might break—that you’d shout, cry, something. but instead, you took a steady breath.

"i didn’t know," you said quietly, your voice laced with exhaustion. "not until after." the weight of your words hit him like a freight train. he stumbled back a step, his hands trembling at his sides. three years. three years of absence. three years of her growing up without him. without knowing who he was.

"i—" he tried, but you shook your head.

"it doesn’t change anything, louis."

"but it does," he croaked. his gaze fell to the little girl now peeking curiously from behind your leg. his daughter. his daughter. his chest constricted painfully. "what’s her name?"

you hesitated, as though you didn’t want to give him that much, but you sighed softly. "amelia."

amelia. it sounded so sweet and delicate, and the ache in his chest deepened. she glanced up at him again, her big, inquisitive eyes so achingly familiar—his eyes. louis blinked, his throat tightening. "(name,) listen, i..." he said softly, desperately.

"please." you tensed again, fingers curling protectively around amelia’s small hand. "louis..." there was a warning in your tone, but it faltered as you looked at him—really looked at him. and for a fleeting moment, he saw the pain you’d carried, the years that hadn’t been kind to you.

"please, hear me out. i.. i want to know her. and you, again. she’s not just anyone, she's my daughter." he whispered, taking another tentative step closer. "and you—" he took in a sharp breath. "you're the love of my life."

"you mean to say i was." you hissed. "and where were you, louis? how can you be so shameful?" your voice cracked this time, tears threatening to spill as your gaze hardened. "where were you when i needed you most? when i thought i was alone? you left me. you didn't even bother telling me yourself!"

louis couldn’t answer. he could only stare at you with pained eyes, shattered by the truth of it. he knew you were right. he hadn’t been there. he had walked away. like a fool. like a coward. and now, he had to face the cost. you pulled amelia closer and glanced over your shoulder. "we should go."

"wait... please—" he choked out.

"goodbye, louis."

louis didn’t see you again for weeks after that day at the market, but it was as though his entire world had shifted. every second, every thought, every sleepless night brought him back to you and to amelia. he could still see her curious eyes looking up at him, so achingly familiar, and it only made the guilt weigh heavier. he had to see you again. had to try.

it started small. a knock at your door one rainy evening startled you, and when you opened it, there was nothing but a basket of your favourite fruits resting on your doorstep with a note tucked inside. "thought you might need these. - L."

you stared at the familiar scrawl for far too long before shutting the door with a sigh, leaving the basket there.

a week later, he showed up at the market where you often shopped, hands shoved nervously into his pockets as he watched you from afar. you noticed him immediately—how could you not?—but you ignored him, pretending not to care as you handed amelia a light bag to carry.

"mom? that man’s looking at you," she whispered loudly. you shot louis a glare over your shoulder, and he had the decency to look sheepish.

"he’s no one, darling," you muttered under your breath, though your chest tightened painfully when amelia turned to give louis a small wave. "but you said he was your friend." "not anymore."

and so it continued. louis didn’t push, didn’t demand answers or try to force his way into your life. instead, he lingered on the edges, trying to prove himself in the only ways he knew how. he offered to help when he saw you struggling to carry groceries. he left small bouquets of your favorite flowers at your door—nothing extravagant, just thoughtful. he even fixed the broken hinge on your garden gate one morning while you were out, leaving behind no trace but a silent repair.

you wanted to be angry. you tried to be angry. but as the days turned to weeks, that sharp edge you’d held onto for years began to dull. louis didn’t ask for forgiveness. he didn’t demand anything from you. he just showed up, day after day, carrying the weight of his mistakes quietly, trying to make amends.

then one evening, you found him sitting on the stone steps outside your door, soaked to the bone from the sudden downpour. you let out a deep sigh. "what are you doing here, louis?" your voice was tired, but not sharp this time.

he flinched, then looked up at you—hair plastered to his forehead, eyes softer than you'd ever seen them. "i needed to talk to you."

"there's nothing to talk about," you replied, crossing your arms.

"please," he breathed, standing slowly. "i know i don’t deserve this. any of this. any of you, and her. i don't even deserve to be standing in front of you here right now. but i—” he ran a hand through his wet hair, words failing him as his chest heaved. "i need you to know that i’m sorry... for everything."

you stared at him for a long while, your resolve trembling as you caught the raw desperation in his gaze. "sorry doesn’t change what happened, louis. it doesn’t change the years we lost."

"i know, i know" he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. "i know it doesn’t. but i promise— i swear i’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it right, if you’ll let me."

you swallowed hard, unable to look away as he stepped closer. you didn't know what to say, nor what to do. "and amelia?"

louis blinked, his expression softening even more at the sound of her name. "i want to know her. i want to be there for her, for both of you. i don’t want to miss anything else. i can't."

you felt your walls cracking. "it’s not that simple, louis."

"i know." he said, voice steady now but quiet at the same time. "i'm not walking away this time. you don't need to take me back, just... give me a chance to prove myself to you."

silence hung between you, heavy and uncertain. part of you still wanted to push him away, to protect yourself from the pain you"d carried for so long. but the other part—the part that had never stopped loving him, no matter how much you tried—wanted to believe him. "we’ll see," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "that’s all i can give you right now."

louis exhaled shakily, nodding as though you’d just given him the world. and perhaps you really did. he ran a hand through his wet hair. you were the sun in his life, the most bright and beautiful thing in it. and because of what he did, he lost you. and he knows. he knows what he did wrong. "that's more than enough."

your heart was thumping in your chest. you weren’t sure what the future held as louis turned to leave, but for the first time in three entire years, you let yourself feel something close to hope.

louis didn’t take your "we'll see" lightly. in fact, he treated it like a promise. a mission. from that day on, he made it his journey to prove to you—and to amelia—that he wasn’t the man he used to be. afraid and insecure. he wasn’t going to walk away again.

it started with the little things, because louis knew you well enough to understand you wouldn’t be won over with grand, material gestures. so he showed up in the ways that mattered.

one morning, you stepped out onto your porch to find a neatly packed lunch sitting on the steps with a note: "thought you might have a busy day. take care of yourself. - L." you rolled your eyes, but this time—you took it. inside was your favorite food and a thermos of your favourite drink, perfectly made—just how you used to like it. it was louis's cooking, you were sure. it'd been years since you had that, and it made you a little emotional.

another time, you came home from work to find your garden neatly weeded, the flowers you'd neglected blooming brighter than before. when you asked your neighbor if she'd seen anyone around, she only shrugged and said to you, "a blond man came by. seemed determined to get his hands dirty. i thought you knew him. should i stop him if he comes next time?"

you paused, then shook your head. "no... it's okay."

amelia noticed too. "mom, who fixed the swing in the backyard?" she asked one afternoon, gleefully testing the sturdy rope. you didn’t answer, though you had a pretty good idea.

"i'm not so sure, dear." you said as you gave her a push.

then there was the day he showed up again, not watching you from afar this time, but waiting with two bags of apples in his hands. you gave him a wary look. "you’re still at this, huh?"

"what can i say? i’m stubborn," he replied softly, a tiny smile tugging at his lips as he held out one of the bags. "for amelia. i hear she likes apple pie."

"did the neighbours tell you that?"

louis shrugged, keeping quiet.

"and you think you can win her over with apples?" you scoffed, unable to hide your own smile. you took the bag anyway.

"no," he said quietly, holding your gaze. "but i"ll try."

then he'd take you out to lunch, dinner—any meal he could take you too. any time you showed interest in any particular item, next thing you knew, he'd be whipping out his wallet.

what broke you, though, was the day amelia came home from school with stars in her eyes. "mom!" she shouted, dropping her backpack with a thud. "guess who picked me up today?"

your heart dropped. “who?”

"that man who always looks at you at the market. uh—what'd he say his name was..? oh right! louis!” she said excitedly. "he said he used to know you and that he wanted to help you out today since you were busy."

your hands froze as you held onto the dish you were scrubbing, water dripping off your fingertips. "he... what?"

"he bought me ice cream too." amelia added happily, completely unaware of the storm that's begun building inside you at that.

louis showed up at your door that evening before you could call him. "you overstepped." you snapped as soon as you opened it, crossing your arms and blocking the doorway. but he didn’t flinch. he looked earnest, as though he’d prepared for this. "i asked you not to meet her. atleast not yet. why don't you listen? why don't you give a damn about what i think?"

"you're right. and i'm sorry." he said, hands raised in surrender. "but you said you had an important meeting today. i couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. she’s my daughter too."

"she could've stayed at school with the teachers. they stay at least until five pm. i would've been done by then." your chest ached, and you turned your eyes away from him. "you don’t get to act like her father just because it’s convenient now."

"this isn’t about convenience." he shot back, his voice low, but steady. "it's about her. it's about you. i missed three years, (name). three years i can’t get back, no matter how hard i try. but i am trying. and i won’t stop."

louis's words hung heavy in the air. when you finally turned to look at him, his expression was softer, raw with emotion. "i don’t expect you to forgive me overnight." he whispered. "you don't even need to. but i want to be here... in your life. in her's. as much as you'll allow me to. but please, atleast for amelia's sake.. please try to give me a chance. even if just a little."

for a long moment, neither of you spoke. then, quietly, you asked, "why now, louis? why does this matter to you so much?"

he hesitated, searching for the right words. "because i still love you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "i always have. i was just too much of a coward back then. i.. i thought that if i continued to stay by your side, you'd get hurt. that something would happen again. i thought i had lost my brothers, (name). i couldn't lose you—not you too. never you."

you felt the tears sting your eyes, but you blinked them away. "but you did anyway. you lost me when you sent your lawyer to collect my signature on the divorce papers."

louis exhaled, furrowed eyebrows and nodding. "i did.. but i thought it would be much better than find you—" he couldn't even get the words out. so, he whispered. "dead."

"..." you paused. "love can't always fix everything."

"but maybe it's a start."

for the next few months, he took things slow, giving you space when you needed it, but always making sure you knew he was there. he learned amelia’s favorite bedtime stories and showed up to watch her school performances. he memorized your routine, leaving small, thoughtful surprises in his wake—fresh flowers on fridays, your favorite pastry waiting for you at the café. it wasn’t flashy, it wasn’t grand, but it was louis.

slowly, something began to shift. you let him walk you and amelia home from the market one evening. you let him sit with you on the porch while the little girl played. you even let him make dinner one night when you were too tired to argue. amelia beamed the whole time, delighted by the way louis taught her how to fold dumplings properly.

"he's nice, mom," she whispered later that night, curling into your side as you tucked her in. "and he makes you smile more too."

you didn’t have an answer for that.

the first time you invited louis inside on a rainy afternoon, he nearly dropped the umbrella he was holding. "are you coming or not?" you teased, raising an eyebrow.

louis was flustered, he didn't know what to say—the colour pink coated his cheeks. "i... yes— yes. okay. i am. i'm.. i'm coming in."

when you handed him a steaming mug of tea, his fingers brushed yours, and for the first time in years, it didn’t hurt to let him close. amelia came rushing in from her bedroom, excited to show a clumsy drawing she'd made of you, her and him. he took a small sip from his cup, and picked amelia onto his lap.

"we'll see." you'd said months ago. now louis let himself believe that maybe—just maybe, he was earning his second chance.

@ELIASORCHARD — do not steal, retranslate or repost.

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merrybloomwrites · 2 days ago

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Secret Little Rendezvous

Summary: Hotel rooms tend to be too quiet. Luckily your boyfriend doesn't mind breaking managements rules and always joins you, leading to nights of sweet cuddles together.

WC: ~750

AN: This is a 1D bandmember reader x Liam story. Just wanted to do a lil cute fluffy fic tonight. Also, I know Liam and hotel rooms can be upsetting but I promise nothing bad happens here, just some snuggling.

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Touring is stressful. No one would ever debate that.

You love it, but it truly is exhausting. Being on stage is exciting, and between the adrenaline rush and the energy from the audience, you feel like you’re on a high.

But then the show ends, and everything goes quiet. It’s so still and silent that it often becomes unsettling.

At least on the bus you have the boys, and you know they’re sleeping in their bunks just a few feet from you. That, plus the motion of the bus and the hum of the tires against the road is enough to soothe you to sleep.

But hotel rooms are a different story. As the only girl in the band you’re always given your own room. Which would be nice if it didn’t make you feel so alone. It’s eerily quiet and still, and going from the rush of performing in front of thousands of people to sitting alone in silence is always an unnerving experience.

You know that your boyfriend Liam often feels the same way. You’ve requested to be put in the same room numerous times, but management insists that you get your own rooms in order to keep up an innocent appearance.

Luckily for you, management doesn’t often stay with the band. And the security team that travels with you all is more forgiving and empathetic. They happily turn a blind eye when Liam inevitably sneaks out of his room to join you in yours.

You’ve showered, done your nighttime routine, and dressed in comfy pajamas (sweats that originally belonged to Liam) when you hear the knock at your door. You don’t have to question who it is, your boyfriend having used the special knocking pattern you’d decided on.

You quickly let him into your room, and he wraps you up in his arms. His embrace is tight, warm and comforting. As he rubs his hands along your back you melt into him, not caring that you’re both standing in the middle of a hotel room.

“We should probably get in bed,” he eventually says.

“Don’t wanna move,” you murmur into his chest.

“Then hold on tight,” he replies. You know what’s coming next, had hoped for it really. You wrap your arms around his neck and he hoists you up so your legs are firmly around his waist. It’s admittedly pretty hot, the way he effortlessly carries you to bed then holds you with one hand so he can pull back the covers with his other.

He gently lays you down, and you pout as he lets you go. He’s not gone long, just a few seconds as he checks the door is locked and turns the lights off. As soon as he gets under the covers you tuck into his side. His arm wraps around you, holding you close once again.

In his protective embrace, you settle enough to fall asleep.

When you wake up the next morning you’re no longer wrapped in his arms. It tends to happen, you often move away in your sleep. But Liam still has a hand on you, holding you as his face presses against your neck. It’s sweet, the way he keeps you close even when you’re both sleeping.

You don’t need to be anywhere super early so you shift enough to curl back against him. He subconsciously tightens his arms around you, and you smile at the gesture. You fall back asleep, only waking up again when you feel Liam shift beside you.

That night there’s another show followed by a nearly two hour drive to the next city. You drift off to sleep during the ride, but you’re all woken up to go into the hotel when you get there. You’re groggy, and you wish they’d just let you stay on the bus, but that’s not allowed.

Liam wraps an arm around your waist, and you sleepily tuck against him on the journey up to the correct floor. He doesn’t even pretend to go to his own room, just going into yours and shutting everyone else out.

You end up as the big spoon, Liam’s back pressed against your front and your arms around his waist. You love being able to hold him tight and tuck your face into the back of his neck. He turns slightly so you can share some sleepy kisses and exchange “I love you’s” before you both drift to sleep.

As crazy as tour life is, it’s always worth it to end a night snuggled against your love.

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AN: Hope you're all doing okay, I know I'm missing Liam a little extra today.

#liam payne x reader #one direction x reader #one direction fanfiction #one direction #liam payne

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marauders-brain-rot · 4 hours ago

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Jegumas - Day 18: Stories - 626 words - @noblehouseofgay

Harry was refusing to sleep, he was too excited for the next morning when he would get to see his uncles Pad and Moon (he was still struggling with some sounds and most names ended up coming out shortened or different) to help them pick out a tree for their place. Sirius wanted a real tree, he was absolutely determined to have one this Christmas for whatever reason. Regulus on the other hand wouldn’t allow one in the house because of all the upkeep and mess. Instead he’d opted for a fake tree enchanted to look and smell real, ‘because we have class’ he’d said.

Regardless, their son was beyond excited at the prospect of picking out a tree, cutting it down and bringing it home to decorate and was refusing sleep. They’d tried everything to convince him, they’d told him it would come sooner if he slept, they’d tried a glass of warm milk, they’d even tried driving around the block a few times to look at Christmas lights (which usually put Harry to sleep within two streets), but he was holding out. They’d finally managed to get him into bed but now he was demanding stories.

“Papa, tory,” he demanded as Regulus sat at the edge of his bed.

“Another story, little star?” He cooed, happy to indulge his son. He’d never tell James, though he was sure he knew, that difficult bedtimes were somehow Regulus’s favorite.

“Pwease,” he pouted adorably.

“Fine, one more story little one and then off to the skies with you,” he acquiesced as he always did. “What story do you want?”

“Dada!” He exclaimed, wiggling excitedly. He wasn’t sure how, but one night Regulus had told Harry how he and James had met and since then it had become his favorite bedtime story.

“All right, settle in,” he hummed happily as he fixed the blankets around the small boy. “It all started because of your uncle Padfoot.”

He told the story of the day he’d first met James and how he’d already decided he didn’t like him, but how over time and through the years he realized that hadn’t been true at all. He whispered secrets to the boy of how he’d tried for ages to figure out what was so special about James Potter of all people that eventually he realized he was special to him too. By the time he was finished Harry’s eyes were long since shut and small snores were falling from his lips. Regulus smiled softly at his son, kissing his forehead gently before standing to leave the room and seeing his husband standing there, his hand to his mouth and tears in his eyes.

“How long have you been there?” He asked quietly as he got closer, a questioning brow quirked.

“Long enough to know that you think I’m special,” he smirked, reaching his hand out to grab Regulus’s when he was close enough.

“I married you, of course I think you’re special,” he scoffed, trying to brush off what he’d said as James pulled him against his chest.

“You had a crush on me,” he smiled softly, cupping Regulus’s face in one hand.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I hated you for years,” he rolled his eyes even as he melted into James’s touch.

“And I loved you enough for the both of us,” he bent down and kissed him softly then, it was sweet and full of all the love they felt between them. “Let’s go to bed, love.”

He led them to their room where they fell into bed, locked together in a loving embrace. The following morning Harry would go with his uncles leaving James and Regulus alone, Regulus was already planning on how they would spend that time.

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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 23 hours ago

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Hey girl I adore ur story can you do Pablo Gavi story friends with benefits please?

Thank you also take your time 💋

hey, thank you!

and thanks for the suggestion, you didn’t give me a lot of details so i hope you like the way i wrote it 🧡🧡

pretty please | pablo gavi

🧁 synopsis: Pablo and you decide to turn your friendly casual hook-ups into a "no-strings-attached" arrangement – it sounds like the perfect plan: easy, fun, and uncomplicated. If only he weren’t so annoyingly impossible. tags: friends with benefits, banter, pablo being annoying, light smut. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 1.8k words)

It’s supposed to be easy. That’s the whole point.

You’re perched on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs as he rifles through your fridge like he lives here. Like this is just a normal Tuesday night between friends who happen to sleep together.

“You seriously don’t have anything?” Gavi complains, holding up a sad-looking yogurt before tossing it back inside.

You shrug, biting back a grin. “It’s not my job to feed you.”

He turns to you, exasperated but amused, and points a finger. “Yeah, but I’m the one burning all the calories here. You should at least stock snacks.”

You roll your eyes, laughing as he leans against the counter across from you. He just came straight from training, but doesn’t look tired, though – he never does. Always has this kind of energy that makes it hard to say no when he texts, “You home?”

It’s easy, the way this goes. He shows up, sometimes with food, sometimes empty-handed. You make fun of him, he makes fun of you, and eventually you end up tangled in your sheets. There’s no guessing games, no overthinking. It’s simple.

“You’re staring,” he says, breaking the quiet.

“No, I’m not.”

He smirks, stepping closer until he’s standing between your knees. He rests his hands on either side of you, palms flat on the counter. “You’re staring because you’re thinking.”

“Thinking about how annoying you are? Yeah, probably.”

He laughs, close enough now that you can smell his cologne and feel the faint heat coming off his skin. “Don’t think so hard,” he says, nudging his nose against yours in that way he does when he’s trying to distract you. “We said no thinking, remember?”

And you do. That was the rule – no overthinking, no expectations, no strings. It’s supposed to be fun. It is fun.

So you kiss him and he kisses you back. You pull back just long enough to tug your shirt over your head, and before it even hits the floor, he’s grinning like an idiot.

“Cute bra.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Shut the fuck up.”

“What? I’m complimenting you.” He holds his hands up, like he’s innocent, but there’s that stupid smirk plastered on his face, the one that always makes you want to kiss him and smack him at the same time.

“Yeah, well, maybe keep it to yourself.”

“Sorry, can’t. It’s a cute bra. Floral’s a good look on you.”

You groan, pushing at his chest, but he barely moves. “You’re ruining this.”

“Am I?” He leans in again, so close you can feel his breath against your cheek. “Because I don’t think I am.”

You roll your eyes so hard you almost see the back of your skull, but you don’t stop him when he kisses you again. His hands slide to your waist, fingers grazing skin, and the teasing melts into something slower, softer. For a second, you forget you’re supposed to be annoyed.

Then –

“Seriously, though, is it new? I don’t think I’ve seen this one before.”

You groan into his mouth and pull back, pushing his face away this time. “Oh my God, shut up.”

He’s laughing now, head tilted back, completely unbothered. “What? I’m observant!”

“You’re on thin ice, Pablo,” you mutter as you tug him by the shirt toward your room.

He stumbles after you, still grinning like he just won something. “Thin ice is still ice, cariño. I’ll take it.”

Your room is flawless – bed perfectly made, floors clear, not a single thing out of place. You’ve always been like this, a little too upkept, but it doesn’t stop Gavi from throwing himself onto your bed like he’s at home.

“Shoes off,” you snap immediately, pointing at him.

He freezes mid-flop like you’ve caught him committing a crime. “Relax, relax. I forgot!”

“You didn’t forget. You just think rules don’t apply to you.”

He’s smiling as he kicks off his sneakers, letting them hit the pristine floor with two thuds. You wince at the sound but say nothing because arguing with him would take all night. Instead, you cross your arms and stare at him.

Gavi stretches across your bed, arms flung dramatically to the sides, eyes closing like he’s exhausted. “This is what heaven must feel like.”

“I’m starting to think you only come over to mess up my stuff.”

“Not true,” he says, grin still lazy. “I also come over for you.”

You snort. “That’s sweet. Real poetic.”

“I try.” He turns onto his side now, eyes scanning your features.

“Is that your best line?”

“No, my best line worked when I got you to agree to this whole thing.”

You hate that he’s right, so you say nothing, but he keeps looking at you, waiting, until you finally sigh and crawl onto the bed beside him. You settle into the spot next to him, and he immediately throws an arm over your waist.

It goes on the way it always does: him teasing, you rolling your eyes, both of you pretending this is just another night. Like he’s not half on top of you, your legs tangled, his arm still heavy around your waist.

“You’re taking up all the space,” you complain, pushing at his shoulder.

“Your bed’s too small,” he shoots back.

“I like it this way.”

He hums like he’s considering it. You’re about to start arguing again when he leans down and presses his mouth to yours, cutting off whatever comeback you had ready. It’s not fair, really, how easy he makes this – how natural it feels to kiss him.

It’s still light, though. Easy. He bites at your bottom lip, gentle but enough to make you flinch back.

“Ow!”

“What?” he says, all innocent. “You looked like you were getting distracted.”

“Oh, you’re dead.”

You bite his shoulder – not hard, just enough to make him jerk and laugh.

“You’re crazy.”

“You started it.”

He shakes his head, still grinning, and rolls onto his back, pulling you with him until you’re sprawled half on top of him. Your hand smacks his chest, and he catches your wrist, holding it there. The smile lingers on his lips, but something in his eyes softens when he looks at you.

You pause. Just for a second.

And then he flips you over, laughing when you yelp, your hair falling into your face.

“You’re annoying,” you mumble, brushing it back.

“Yeah, but you love it.”

You want to argue, but he’s right. It’s annoying how good this feels, how good he feels. The way he knows how to make you laugh, even now, when he’s supposed to be focused. You run your fingers along the back of his neck, just to make him shiver, and he shoots you a look. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m starting.”

He growls – actually growls – and nips at your collarbone in revenge, making you squeal and kick at him, but you’re both laughing, breathless and tangled together like you don’t know where you end and he begins.

It all quickly turns into soft gasps and muffled laughter, and teasing comments exchanged between kisses. He mutters something about your elbow being sharp (“You’re doing it on purpose, I know it.”), and you whisper something mean about his hair (“Looks like a bird’s nest.”), and neither of you really mean any of it.

Eventually, it quiets. The teasing gives way to something nicer, your hands tracing lazy patterns on his back, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

“Comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low, a little rough.

“Mmhmm.” You don’t say anything else because you don’t need to. It’s good like this, like you’ve done it a hundred times before and still have a hundred more to go.

“I’m going in, alright? Hold on to me,” he whispers.

You swallow hard, your fingers already gripping his arms. “Just do it already.” You try to sound impatient, like you’re not affected, but your voice betrays you – soft, breathless.

Gavi huffs out a short laugh, shaking his head like you’re impossible, and then kisses you – hard. It’s not gentle or teasing like before; it’s a punishment, his mouth moving over yours until you forget how to breathe, until all you can think about is him and the way he feels.

And then he goes in, and everything stills for a moment.

It’s like every nerve in your body lights up at once, a fever spreading from your chest to your fingertips, leaving you feeling dizzy – like you’re floating, delirious and weightless. Your eyes flutter open, just barely, and you find him watching you. His expression is different now, like he’s seeing you and feeling everything all at once.

He looks like you feel, like he’s lost in this with you.

“You good?” he murmurs, his forehead nearly pressed against yours, voice soft but thick like he can barely get the words out.

You try to answer, but all you can do is nod. Your hand slides up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, because that’s all you can think to do.

You lose track of time somewhere between all your favorite positions and all your favorite spots in the room – him pulling you to the edge of the bed, you shoving him into the chair by the window, both of you collapsing onto the rug at some point like you couldn’t even make it to a proper surface.

By the time it’s over, you’re both breathless, dripping in sweat, tangled up like you couldn’t be bothered to move. But after a second, you push at his shoulder with a groan.

“Ew, you’re disgusting, get off.”

He laughs, loud and unbothered, and instead of rolling away like a normal person, he hooks his arms around you, pressing his gross, sweaty chest against yours. “Disgusting? I was inside of you two seconds ago. Come here.”

“No!” You wriggle free, squealing, and bolt off the bed.

You’re naked, which makes this all the more ridiculous – darting around the room as he chases after you, both of you laughing so hard you can barely see straight.

“Pablo, fuck off!”

“Why are you running? Accept your fate!”

He lunges and grabs your waist, pulling you back against him as you shriek. He plants a loud, obnoxious kiss on your cheek and then, just as you’re recovering, lands a playful slap to your butt.

You gasp, smacking his arm. He winks at you, already grabbing his clothes from the floor. He looks far too pleased with himself. “Thanks, that was a nice cardio.”

You roll your eyes, collapsing onto the mattress again, finally catching your breath. “You’re welcome…”

He pulls his shirt over his head, “Generous as always.”

You grab the nearest pillow and throw it at him, but he’s already laughing, ducking out of the way like he knew it was coming.

It’s easy. Too easy.

And as he finishes dressing and runs a hand through his mess of hair, you can’t help but smile to yourself – because for now, this is good.

For now, you’ll take it.

#football fanfic #football fic #pablo gavi fanfic #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #football x reader #brightlightwrites

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elderwisp · 2 days ago

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The Sims is love. List 5 facts about a favorite sim couple of yours, and why you love them so much. Then pass this on to 5 others, whose sim couple(s) you also love. 💘💕

AHHH this is so fun! ok ok, i try to very seldomly talk about Atlas and Taryn and there's a lot behind that decision but I'll give you four facts as well as something about their initial concept (with a few pics from 2018 gwoah!) Also here's some pics I took while messing around with Reshade a while back :3

𝕬𝖙𝖑𝖆𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕿𝖆𝖗𝖞𝖓 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

ONE:

i lurv,,, i love writing their romantic scenes together so much. it's one of the few things i have written ahead in the docs. whether it's full scenes or different chunks of dialogue. however, the reasoning for enjoying it so much is atlas is a creative artist and taryn is a romantic novelist so when i combine the two, i can be as fluffy as i want with the way they speak to each other. on top of that they have a really sweet emotional connection which allows for them to communicate through nonverbal means

TWO:

atlas doesn't sleep much, but when we do see him knocked out, taryn is usually near. (one and two) in the beginning of their relationship, taryn takes it as she might be a bore but atlas quickly dispels that. however, in the present as neither of them are speaking, atlas will think about taryn before he attempts to go to bed </3

THREE:

they are connected through a very important milestone in both of their lives which we will learn in the prologue. the two understand each other deeply because of this moment, this is what helps them see each other clearly. that sounds so ominous LMAO MY BAD ;A;

FOUR:

how they get together came to me in a dream which is also how i built the specific lot for that scene. there's also specific posing in mind i have for that to how atlas looks at taryn from how she cradles his face... AHH! i actually can't wait to show everyone that. if you're extra curious, this is the song i imagine playing :3 here's a lyric too because i'm EMOTIONAL: "Teeth clenched in moonlight A limitation, want to ignite Reset my biology"

FIVE: the past

ah, okay so! their relationship wasn't supposed to progress much. really all i had planned was taryn had been in an on and off again relationship with rowan in which the both weren't the best to one another. rowan being incredibly manipulative and taryn eventually breaking his trust through a one night stand with atlas. atlas's friendship with taryn tanks after that moment. i honestly ended up hating it so much. there characters weren't very developed to begin with, almost clean slates so it was incredibly difficult to write and ended horribly for everyone involved >.< pics from 2018 under da cut bc i will NAURT be jumpscaring anyone today

#atlas is a pisces and taryn is a taurus for anyone inchrested in dat #when atlas had a fucking beard in ts3 and looked like dracula PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT WHAT #i pulled some of these from the archives a screamed #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #also i have a lot of lore for each oc as to how things changed from the initial concepts #i might do a post on that bc i found so many pictures from the past and i just find it interesting seeing #how much is different #asks #oc: taryn #oc: atlas

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bwoahtastic · 4 hours ago

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plss winter and christmas vibes my fave + a fight!

nico has been talking to toto about being more available for the kids. toto work so much and nico knows is to provide for the family, but it’s getting ridiculous! the kids all miss him: little maxy refusing to go to sleep without a good night kiss from papa but eventually falls asleep bc toto gets home too late most days, mousy drawing new pictures for papa everyday that he never gets to show him and poor little sebby. seb is a little older so he understands whats going on and at first is a little hopeful but then gets really angry with toto. nico is trying to hold everyone together, always staying with maxy until he falls asleep and praising mousy’s drawings, but seb is really sad and angry, so nico can only hold him when he needs it.

the year is coming to an end and the children have their christmas plays! pls mousy has the biggest role in his class and maxy is also with him with a littler role but just as exited! they are a little bummed that papa couldn’t make it in time, but toto promised to take them ice skating so they don’t complain much. but when sebby’s class is having their play and toto is a no show seb’s face drops. he cries so much on the way home, tucked between his brothers and nico spends a couple of hours trying to get him to eat some of his favourite food that he made to cheer him up! pls the pup is inconsolable.

nico decides that this has to end and talks sternly to toto that night. he cries a little when he explains how sebby felt and kinda gives toto an ultimatum. he has been saying to him to cut more hours and this can’t continue. toto being so angry at himself and decides to be more present. he can cut some hours! so he organises going ti the christmas market, the five of them, as a family.

the pups are so exited!!!! pls maxy wants to go in the moment and mousy jumping up and down. sebby is a little more cautious but after a talk with papa when he apologised profusely he gets exited too! nico is so relived, he likes having his mate with him!

but oh the day of the market comes and toto hasn’t showed up yet. they wait a little but after nico receives a message saying he has to stay in the office for a few more hours and that he’ll meet them there, momma decides to go anyways. hauling three pups alone is difficult but nico gets maxy on his sling and tells nicky to not drop his hand. pls sebby is so sad and a little shyly asks to hold momma’s other hand :(

the market is fun! they kinda forget about toto, but he shows up and is so anxious and apologetic. the little ones want papa’s upies so it’s quickly forgotten but sebby refuses to even look at toto. nico is torn but stays with sebby so that toto can have time with the babies

pls that night nico and toto fight really hard and toto ends up sleeping in the sofa. sebby crawls in momma’s bed and sobs in nico’s chest. pls toto would feel so bad he has to make it up to them somehow!

Oh pls! Maybe it's by the time Nico retired from the police and is doing yoga classes, but mostly taking care of the kiddos too as Toto maybe got a promottion in the meantime abd is working so hard. For a while it's fine and Toto keeps saying things will calm down after a while, but it keeps taking longer and longer and the kids all have their complicated parts and it hurts them a lot when Toto seemingly is lulling away. And Nico still has his own issues too but is holding on to dear life for the pups sake because he cannot disappear now, there is no one to help them then...

I think Kimi steps in to help a lot? He can see his friend is struggling and needs help with the pups and he doesn't mind helping at all.

Maxy whining every night toto comes home too late cos he wants a goodnight kiss, he needs to know everyone is safe and home before he can sleep! Nico spends a long time rocking him every night until the pup falls asleep finally! And little nicky making drawings for papa and Nico makes sure to praise them but mousy gets a little sad still... but also says it's okay cos he has momma and kitty brothers! Please little mousy would never want to complain cos his life is so so good now, but nico tries to teach him he can still be upset if he wants to be.

Seb being so upset! He is the biggest papa's boy and he is struggling a lot, feels betrayed and is so so sad! He clings to momma and cries a lot and Nicos heart breaks for him cos he was as much of a papa's boy as sebby is ad he knows its harder cos seb is old enough to really feel the tension at home now.

Maybe the fight is before the Christmas market? Toto arranged it all and asked the boys if they all wanted to go together and everyone is so excited and Nico is relieved toto is trying. But the night before, Toto tells Nico he needs to go on a business trip, overnight even, and Nico blows up at him. He promised the kids, promised Nico, and now his job is more important? No, that's not gonna work for nico!

Nico making Toto sleep on the sofa and poor Sebby comes to momma hiccuping and crying cos he overheard the fight and he knows papa isn't coming to the market... nico holding his cub so tight trying to soothe him...

The morning after the fight, Toto is gone already and Nico gets the 3 littles ready cos he'll be damned if these kids don't see the market just cos Toto can't keep promises! Maxy barely slept again so Nico has him in the sling because kitty is so so tired! And Nicky is holding his hand and normally Seb is independent but he asks to hold momma's hand now too and is just a little sad and quiet...

They have fun at the fair for a bit but it's a little stressful for nico keeping them all together. So they get some food and Sebby and mousy carry some too as Nico tries to find a picnic table to sit and it panicking a little as nothing is free and the pups are tired. Then someone raspily says "need some help?" And they turn to find Toto at one of the tables, with some more food and hot chocolate for everyone! He looks so apologetic and mousy zooms over immediately to hug papa! Seb going behind nico a little and being anxious but Toto crouches down in front of him and apologises wholeheartedly! And then also straightens and kisses Nico's forehead and tells him he is very sorry...

Pls them all sitting at the table and Seb sits on Toto's lap for a bit with Toto hugging him so tight and Mousy is just clinging to papa's arm and squeaking happily!

Maxy then waking too in his sling and Nico gently gets him out so Maxy can eat something too from the safety of momma's lap and Toto looks so guilty realising how badly the kitten is sleeping because he was home late so much...

#asks #PLS THE PAIN #stepmom nico

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