#snow my aggressive-aggressive babygirl <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreadhaus-literature · 5 years ago

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{Collection} Countdown to Christmas

Here to wish a very Merry Christmas to my favorite person in the world. ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

It’s still the most wonderful time of the year! 🎄✨

1. “Alright, mister. I know you’re the one who keeps hanging up mistletoe everywhere.”

Little Walter Sullivan paused, turning to look over his shoulder at Mommi Monica before a smile split his cherubic features. He’d been caught red-handed, the berry twig still in his fingers. Monica put her hands on her hips, pretending to give him a scolding look--one that had him giggling.

“Now what’s with all this mistletoe? Could it be...” Monica moved closer to the little boy perched on top of the couch, sweeping him up in her arms to pepper his face with kisses. “...that you want lots of kisses from Mommi?”

Little Walter’s squeals of excitement filled the room as he clung around Monica’s neck, leaning into each kiss to soak up like rays of sunlight.

“Mer’y Chrismas Mommi!” Little Walter’s speech wasn’t perfect, but his message was--full of love and adoration for his Mommi Dearest, who rewarded him with another kiss.

“Merry Christmas, Little Walter.”

2. “Excuse me—where is my Christmas kiss?”

Monica tried and failed to suppress her giggle at the faux impatient tone. The asker, Rosinante--known much more affectionately to her as Cora, was standing in the doorway, hands on his hips, bent down to clear the mistletoe poised at the top of the frame. His long, heart-adorned hat tassels hung like temptations below his painted, smiling face and Monica moved away from the Christmas cookie-covered counter, laughing.

“You see, I was told it’s tradition to kiss under the mistletoe,” Cora encouraged, bending even further to ensure his towering height wasn’t a problem for the apple of his eye. “But my lips have yet to be kissed.”

“Did you ask Law?” Monica teased, which earned her a laugh.

“Law comes later, you’re always first.” Cora pursed his painted lips as if to demonstrate and drive his point home.

Monica stood up on her tip-toes to deliver Cora’s Christmas kiss, which ended in a squeal as he scooped her up, straightening to his towering height with her in his arms--still giving her kiss after kiss, unable to stop himself.

“WHO THE FUCK STOLE THE KISSING PLANT THING OUT OF MY DOORWAY?!”

Doflamingo’s shouts from the hallway were promptly ignored by Cora and his heart, mostly because he went the opposite direction of them immediately.

3. “I made you some hot cocoa.”

Augustus Cole grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to Monica’s mouth. His dark skin was cold to the touch, causing Monica to laugh softly as he pressed closer as if seeking her warmth.

“Thanks babygirl, it’s cold as fuck outside.”

Monica reached up, cupping Cole’s face in her hands, giving his cheeks a few affectionate rubs to bring some heat back into them.

“Poor thing! Let me get you all warmed up again.”

Cole grinned, holding the mug of cocoa in one large hand as if it were the Holy Grail itself--and since Monica made it for him, it might as well have been.

Damon Baird rolled his eyes from his spot behind Monica, thoroughly sick of Cole mooching affection off Monica by complaining about a situation he put himself in. “If it’s so cold, why do you always insist on goin’ out and building those dumbass snowmen?”

Cole was spared from answering about his yearly tradition when a pounding on the window caught the attention of the trio. Dot was standing on the other side still bundled up in the snow--and she fogged up the glass with her breath before writing, very clearly and with much conviction--

SHUT UP MEG.

4. “You look even more beautiful in the snow.”

“I mean,” Peter Parker stammered, cutting himself off with a laugh. “I didn’t think it was possible for you, you’re so beautiful anyway but...”

He paused, turning to face Monica again. The lights from the bridge below caught at the snowflakes in her gorgeous wealth of hair, and though she couldn’t blush, the cold kissed rose on her skin anyway, lending her a glowing, ethereal hue to her already porcelain skin. She really did take his breath away, but under the moon on Christmas Eve, standing with him atop a bridge, thwipped up here just to show her something not everyone could...Peter might be willing to make the argument she’d never looked more beautiful.

“S-Shut up, Peter,” Monica laughed herself, shaking her head and moved to turn away--but Peter wouldn’t let her. He easily caught her face in his hands, pulling her gently up onto her toes so he could press a kiss to her sweet, beckoning mouth.

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Parker,” he breathed, his own heart racing at the words spoken from his lips to hers. “I love you.”

5. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

Monica paused, for a moment or two stunned speechless by the response.

Milano Dastarden didn’t often break expression, but there was amusement dancing in the darkness of his fathomless eyes. “You’re surprised because typically, that line is coming from you. Not being said to you.”

“...I shouldn’t be surprised you’re pinning me to the wall like Dottie does.” Monica narrowed her eyes playfully at the old vampire, who perked a brow at her in return.

“Were I to pin you to the wall, littlest one, it would not be with words.”

Ever grateful she couldn’t blush, Monica cleared her throat and thrust the wrapped gift toward Milano.

“P-Please,” she shook her head and gave the present an enticing wiggle. “Merry Christmas.”

Milano didn’t rise nor did he move from his high-backed chair. Instead, his dark eyes flicked to his lap.

“Bring it to me.”

The tone, typically imperious and demanding, was not with her. It was imploring, beckoning, and though Monica’s legs were nervous she did as he bade. Taking the seat upon his offered lap, once again she found herself dwarfed by the shadow of the Vampire. Her kin in every way.

Milano wrapped long fingers around the present, his other arm sweeping around the prize in his lap to hold her close.

“Regardless of what I find inside this wrapping paper,” Milano’s voice was deep, ever-thoughtful. “It is your heart that I will covet as a gift above all else. Never forget that, little sister.”

Monica didn’t think she ever would.

6. “Go on, open it.”

“Geez, Tony, don’t pop out of your can.” Carol Danvers teased, leaning against Tony’s bar, the billionaire shooting her a look.

“What? I’m excited, she’s going to love it.”

Carol rolled her eyes, a good-natured grin on her face, but she nodded her blonde head toward the box in front of Monica’s stool. “What do you think’s in there, angelface, one of Tony’s old helmets? His ego keeps growing so his head’s too big to fit in it anymore.”

Tony Stark pursed his lips, his trademark goatee adding a little extra sass to the expression. “You know, Carebear, you don’t have to be in here for this.”

“Oh I definitely do because what I got her will definitely be better than what you did.” Carol took a swig of her beer. “So I’ll shut up and let her open it now.”

Tony slowly dragged his eyes from his long-time friend to soften as they fell upon the love of his life, little Monica, seated so prettily upon his bar stool, her two-foot tall wrapped box a little to the side in front of her. “Go ahead, babygirl. Merry Christmas.”

“T-Thank you Daddy!” Monica reached for the lid, excitement making her tummy flip but she’d barely began to lift the lid when it popped open and one of the Iron Man robots she’d cooed over was peeking out at her, his emoticon screen reading :D before she could even fully register what she was seeing. Once she did, she felt that familiar pinch in her chest, cute aggression running rampant as the round-bodied little robot clamored it’s way out of his box to run up to her and hug her, calling her “Mama!” immediately.

Monica felt her eyes fill with tears as she squeezed the red and gold toddler-sized bot with all her might, and Tony turned a smug expression to Carol.

“Top that, Spaceface.”

Carol didn’t seem fazed, taking another drink from her beer as she pushed off the bar to go get her present for their little girl. “If you insist. I was gonna let you bask in this for a bit longer, but have it your way.”

“...It’s Christmas, Carol.”

“Merry Christmas, Tony!”

7. “Would you like to put the star on the very top of the tree?”

Jedidiah “Bubba” Sawyer tilted his head, brown curls like a halo around his head as he regarded the beautiful, gilded star in Momma Monica’s little hands. His own fingers, long and thick, twisted in his sugar and flour splattered apron (as he just finished putting another batch of Christmas cookies in the oven!) because he didn’t think he should touch something so pretty! That was...the same way he felt about Momma, too.

Thomas “Tommy” Hewitt was nearby, putting sparkly baubles on the tree, and he grunted an encouragement to Bubba to take the star--or he was going to, because he liked Momma’s attention just as much as Bubba did.

Bubba babbled something incoherent to Monica but Tommy knew what it meant--

‘I’m goin’, I’m goin’! Don’t rush me, this is important!’

Shaking fingers, usually so sure of themselves with bloodier, gorier tasks, reached for the star and Monica handed it to Bubba with a smile--one that turned his heart to goo in his chest, making his broad shoulders turn in as he tried not to shy away. Her smile was brighter than the star in his hands!

Bubba turned toward the tree, more than tall enough to reach it...but he paused, looking down at the star then turning back to his Momma.

“What’s...What’s wrong?” Monica felt herself panicking a little, worried she wouldn’t be able to understand Bubba if something was wrong.

But to her surprise, Bubba bent down, scooping her up to sit on his broad shoulder. Once she was settled, he handed her the star and pointed toward the tree, babbling like a toddler would--only with a voice that sounded as though it were coming from a furnace, deep and rumbling and warm.

Monica understood all the same, gingerly placing the star on the top of the tree with Bubba’s heightened help.

“How’s that?” Monica asked, and even behind Bubba’s mask, she could see flashes of teeth and scarred bone--he was smiling.

8. “Did you spike the eggnog again?”

Cavon Dreadful didn’t even pause, his whisky bottle up-ended over the bowl of eggnog, his grin all wolf teeth.

“Had to, babydoll, Pops threw out my last batch.”

“He’s going to throw you out if you ruin another batch of eggnog.” Monica made no move to try and stop Cavon, though--she never did.

“I ain’t ruin that one, aight, those were his words and besides, there’s other bowls of this stuff around,” Cavon finished his “special batch” by finishing the bottle, reaching out to snag his lifemate around her petite waist and dragging her into his side--firmly making her an accomplice to his “crimes”. “We’ll just say this batch is for Ewan an’ me, no one else has to drink it.”

“Is that the best excuse you have?” Monica couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re not used to having to explain yourself, yet, are you?”

“No the fuck I’m not,” Cavon admitted effortlessly, leaning down to rub noses with her. “But that’s why I got you, babydoll, you distract Pops for me just fine.”

“You’re literally throwing me to the wolves.”

“Naaaah,” Cavon scooped her up, carrying her to go find his Father to do said distraction. “That’s what Dot did when she introduced ya to us. I’m just feeding ya to a Lion.”

“...How is that any better?”

Cavon paused, before thoughtfully replying, “You like when he eats ya? I hear ya screamin’ all the way out in Ewan’s shed--”

“I’m telling Poppy what you did.”

“...But it’s Christmas, baby.”

9. “Ho ho ho, you idiot.”

“Nope, no, you’re still being mean.”

Namor McKenzie sighed from his position, wearing a Santa hat, looking entirely unamused and somewhat annoyed, while Arthur Curry, wearing over-sized elf ears, was trying to get the Sub-Mariner to be ‘jolly’. It was not going well.

“I don’t see why we’re doing this--”

“Because Monica will like it if we get a picture dressed up like this!” Arthur exclaimed as if that were the answer to all of life’s questions--ask anyone in the Haus and it really was.

“Then why am I Santa and you’re the elf?” Namor flicked the fluffy bauble tip of the hat out of his face, his long dark hair framing heavily displeased features. “Monica does not even like Santa.”

“...Well that’s true.”

“And she likes elves,” Namor gave Arthur a pointed look. “So I ask again, why are you the elf and I am the fat man she does not even like?”

Arthur could answer that question but Namor was known for throwing fits and Arthur really wanted this Christmas picture present to go over well.

“What if you’re the one to get her to like Santa?” Arthur asked, heavily muscled arms out enticingly. “Think about it, what if you’re the exception to her dislike of Santa, rule?”

Namor paused, looking thoughtful. “...That would put me ahead of everyone else...”

“Yes it would.” Arthur scooped up his smart phone, bringing it over. “So, picture!”

Later, Monica would receive a framed picture of Namor as Santa and Arthur as his Christmas Elf--and it would be the first picture on record of Namor actually smiling and looking jolly, all for the Christmas Angel in their lives.

10. Make a wish.

For the Haus, it was simple. A Christmas wish may not be tradition for other Families but this was no ordinary Family; this was a Family that had survived it’s fair share of struggles and hardships, it’s fair share of bad weather and worse storms but come through to the sunshine and rainbows on the other side. This was a Family who supported one another, who loved and lost together, who faced each new day one foot in front of the other, together.

All of this was done to make a safe, happy, loving home for the woman they loved more than anything else. Monica would never have to wonder what next Christmas would bring because the Family had proven, time and time again, it would always be here. Through thick and thin, sickness and health, life and death, forever meant forever when said in the halls of the Haus.

For her, every, “I love you,” “I’m here for you,” “I need you,” every word said was meant.

And so when the clock struck midnight and Christmas officially came, the Haus wish was a unanimous one, and the same wish uttered in the halls every single year.

“May this year be the same as the last.”

Because Christmas isn’t Christmas without Monica at it’s heart.

Merry Christmas Monica, we love you!

#{collection} : once a week #{theme} : for monica

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helloimnotlame · 7 years ago

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We Own The Night - Seth Rollins Smut

A/N: Stressed Seth and Reader take drugs and forget about the world to Dance Gavin Dance. Written in the perspective of being high. Drug use and mentions of anxiety. GIF not mine ; Listen to the song here ! <3

♫Forget my jealously You swallowed the demons on your own♫

You never saw yourself doing hardcore drugs in a million years. Everything about it just made the instinct say no. The side effects, the way it tore people's lives into halves..It wasn't a risk you wanted to take. But this....was needed. This was earned. Besides - it wasn’t like you were getting doped up on the street with Brian Griffin. You were with the man who had your life, who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He was laying beside you with a deep glaze of darkness that wrote 'high as fuck' in all caps that steamed into his melted fudge eyes to the long spirals of his hair sprawled across his face like a dry mop.

♫Stomp that feeling, your puke is a mutant Can’t think of who did this, well I grew stupid♫

His bronze greek crafted physique was the only thing you could see in the graphite sheets that inspired a black hole sensation making you feel like you were balancing on thin air. You felt like you were floating just above the thermosphere on a wicked cold cloud with the only thing keeping you grounded being a subtle tingling sensation against your leg. Maybe it was just his lapping over yours - but that'd be the easy answer. Your brain was screaming giant eel, but you were too high to care either way.

♫ Say accidents happen, it’s admirable acting

Flicking the back of your ear with my finger ♫

Your attention was on smile across his face that you never saw before. It wasn’t one of those fake smiles he put on for the kicks nor the solid hoax he put one in response to you asking if he was okay. This - was as genuine as the night. How much you'd give to see him like this all the time..for him to as happy as he was now everyday..it’s a shame how much the law demonizes drugs.

♫Separate is the way though, no second is the place though Just fake it through the day and the night is your god.♫

His body folded to press his nose against the smooth white desk beside you, lined with alleys of the devil’s snow. His eyelids laid shut in anticipation, his nose inhaling the dusk in one quick motion, leaving no other evidence other than the small residue marking his nose. “Heh, fuck” His ash and sandpaper voice groaned. The TV wasn't even on yet all you could hear when he spoke was Grover form Sesame Street. His voice was already raspy as it was without the drugs and the crank only enhanced it. The sound wasn't bad and if you weren’t high you’d enjoy the harmonic sounds however in this moment, it was too cringey to bear. "Shhh" your finger faintly pressed against his lips but you felt ear. At least your vision manageable or else you would've start digging for gold. His voice croaked as a laugh in response. "Whatever...girl..." that smile again.

♫ Let your hair down have one more round Drink til you believe it Sloppy kisses, dirty wishes Baby, this is living ♫

Deep down there was hope that this wouldn't ruin his career. Its hard policy with the crank. But that hard policy is what lead him here in the first place. The constant spotlight, the immense workouts, you could tell he was getting frantic. But, the rest of the world's thoughts came later. Now, it was trippy vision, pure relaxation and post-hardcore. "I...I feel like I'm alone right now" his dreary voice stuttered, leading him on top of you - his weight hitting you like the weight a fat baby but still with the presence of its delicacy. He wasn’t holding back. His velvet hands smoothed across your arm until it stopped just in the crease, the pricky tip of a needle replacing his hand. There was a sudden rock in your stomach that spewed fumes of anxiety that you didn’t feel with the crank. Guess you did need another dose. “It’ll only just be a second babygirl...don’t worry...I got you” his scratchy voice consoled, waiting for you to nod your head in permission before continuing. Sure he was high out of his, but at least he was still compassionate. before piercing your skin with the sharp needle and wasting the toxin into your stream. if only you were stable enough for pain. once all the fluid was drained, he released, tossing away the syringe and cupping your chin in his hands. You shared grins - societies renegade druggies.

♫Get up off the wall come on get down get down Give into moment and live now live now♫

It wasn’t long till you felt the effect kick in - your body shivering under him as waves of nirvana poured into your veins. No wonder people get hooked on this shit. It was a feeling like nothing other - but you were strong. And it was only this one time. Right? "That's my girl" he purred his breath the gin to your tonic, the aurora he gave off better than the drugs. “Yknow, I heard this shit is good for the relationship stuff... and yknow it's hard. So many people fuckin' watching and telling me how to love.." You heard his words loud and clear and even digested every word he said. A response though - you'd have to take a rain check. All you felt like saying was "koala" and didn't know why. Seth noticed and with the subtle drag his tongue glided across his bottom lip in desire for your own, your lips connected, the taste of him was the same as yours but a bit sweeter.

♫I have the heart of a coward Here in my arms is exactly where I want you We own the night♫

The kiss was during with no form yet tumbles of passion found. He got on top of you yet weightless. The gray cloth of his sweatpants hoovering above you was like a weightless kite. His warm lips touched your neck sparking instant sensuality and to the beat of Tillian’s voice your bodies moved ships that clashed into the swivels of the duvet. “You want it ?...As much as I do?” he gasped in between kisses, his lazy body rested into the crook of your neck - his breath panting against your skin almost comparable to the smack of air you fell when entering Walmart.

♫Say accidents happen, it’s admirable acting

Flicking the back of your ear with my finger♫

“I...I want it as much as you do” The words didn’t feel like it came from your mouth. For all you knew - you were a cloud carrying all the hippies of South Central through the sky. And maybe you’d be one of those clouds who look like something legible. Before you could think more you felt his wet lips grasp loosely at your skin. The subtle tingles it left was no match for its real life counterpart. This, was like snake kisses. “You taste so good” he mummered as he suckled on your neck. Who knew the taste of skin would be enjoyable..Maybe it was the perfume. "Yeah?" Hypothetical yet out of your mouth like butter. "Yeah" his dry voice purred in confirmation. If only the words were “Okay” the two of you would’ve been a perfect spin off to The Fault in Our Stars.

♫See you in battle; your boat is my paddle Your life is my business; your plaque on my wall♫

And if the two of you were stars - boy would there be many faults. But you shined together and only for each other. That’s what mattered. The feeling of Seth’s persusaive tongue, his hands grabbing at your body in complete desire, the aching warmness that began building between your legs...Everything going on began to become so intense and you could feel small moans breathing through your lungs as if it was your breath. "Shhh...baby...you just squaked" Seth cooed giggling under his breath, his finger dragging your lips just as you did. Is that sound you made? You were thinking if it was so much you couldn’t even remember. If only anxiety could be this peaceful in real life. “I got you baby girl...it’s okay”. He was still chucking about it yet you still got the message that it was your cue to relax and let be, let be. You owned the night.

♫I need poison mitigate my pain Feel my toes go golden up in flames Give me false hope in my veins Tranquilize and modify my brain♫

The bare air invaded your skin vulnerable skin as your clothes fell to the beside to the mercy of Seth’s finger pads. His honey dripped body hovered over you like smooth molasses, his aching erection rubbing gliding across your clit giving you chills. A suave hiss slipped from his lips in response to feeling his tip meet your sensitive place, his velvety hand cupping the side of your cheek. By the look in his devilish eyes you could tell he was ready, and you only returned the look. His hips lined up perfectly against yours, his fat cock smoothing into your hole giving you instant sensations at the feeling of being filled. With the high the was no space for pain, but only the immense pleasure you felt from him hips bucking into yours, and his dick filling your walls. “Oh fuck” you breathed, hiking your back and clutching onto his forearms. It was like an all in one sex toy. Everything was twice as hard, twice a deep, all the things you begged him for in normal circumstances. Everything was so intense...and it was amazing. He was writhed with pleasure too by his facial expression twitching trying to find the right way to express itself at the warm tightness of you that sent him into ecstasy.

♫Where did I go wrong? There's nothing I can do the thrill is gone So I play these nervous songs Pretend that I’m not barely hanging on♫

Like steam blowing gently at the boulders your stomach built - you felt another high approaching the one you were already hugged inside. With each pulse and twitch his hard dick writhed through you - you could feel he was going there too.

"Good girl..good girl" he rambled on as his aggression increased, your body bouncing with each thrust he gave. "My precious little angel...Oh my fuck I need you...I love you...” You could fell his emotions pour out into the cup of escasty, that you took a long gulp of, your orgasm erupting and releasing like little small volcanoes. The highs you shared spoke for itself - Seth collapsing on top of you, and your own body in itself as you laid restlestly in the duvet.

♫ And medicate Medicate Medicate me all night long♫

That high was over but you still were consumed. It was just added pleasure into the pool of divine you were bathing in. You could tell Seth felt the same way as he fell back into his previous position, right beside you, only his half of his body was now sprawled out on top of yours carelessly. He turned his head to look at you - a crooked yet soft smile across his lips. “Yknow - I’m seeing stuff n’ shit right now but..we’re - we’re in this together...Forever”. Each of Seth's words were dragged by the grasp of his weary voice yet you could tell it was genuine. All the words he wanted to say all this time came out.

#seth rollins smut #seth rollins dirty imagine #smut #dirty imagine #wwe smut #wwe dirty imagine #drug smut #drug imagine #onlydodrugswithsethrollins

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