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#i can't wait for master works to come out
pitchblackespresso · 23 days
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Happy one year anniversary, totk!
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gloryinthunder · 7 months
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I used to really love the first romance scene with Astarion (and I still do) but it hits so much harder after you know why he's doing it. That he's purposefully seducing you for protection and blood, that he's forcing himself to sleep with you, and this is a mask he's wearing.
It's a sexy scene and really feeds into the vampy (pun intended) jump-your-bones version of him you get at the start of the game. The whole thing starts out with him being so confident and suave, saying that he's wanted you ever since he set eyes on you and how you want to be known and tasted. It's like everyone's perfect vampire romance novel.
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He's laying out the bait that's worked thousands of times over and luring you in. And you can just get right to the kissing if you want.
But, you can also stop and ask him, "And what do you want?"
And for just a moment the mask drops. This is not the same cocky seductive face we've had up until now. This is vulnerability showing. When has anyone asked him what he wants? When has anyone cared? Does he even know the answer to that question?
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So he pivots. The mask snaps back into place immediately. He turns back into the master seducer and feeds you a line about shared ecstasy to get you back on track.
And then comes what is, to me, the pivotal moment. He asks you "That's what you want, isn't it? To lose yourself in me?"
Looking at his body language he seems unsure at first, maybe questioning his previous tactics. Then he slightly cowers back, lowering himself as he asks the question. The total opposite of his confidence from earlier where he's standing with his arms out wide.
He's not sure what you want anymore. You're not playing by the rules he knows. Why haven't you taken the bait yet? Why haven't you thrown yourself at him?
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And when you finally Nod in agreement, confirming you're here for sex?
This. This is the face he gives you. He just looks so damn sad. To me, it hearkens back to "Of course it'll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?"
Whatever momentary blip made him question why you're there with him, he's just been reassured about both of your roles in this situation.
He sounds so quietly resigned when he answers: "I thought so."
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And then the scene transitions into the actual act. I do like to think Astarion enjoyed himself as I'm sure the PC did, but it's hard for me to watch this scene now that I know his story and history without being uncomfortable.
Just that line "lose yourself in me" is so difficult to hear. Because on paper it's so sensual. Who wouldn't want a lover to feel that way about them? But knowing the context of what Astarion expects and believes in this moment is just... oof.
And to me, this is what makes this scene brilliant. The writing, voice acting, and the mocap/animation are all just SO GOOD. It's so delicately done and Astarion the character is so good at playing a role that you can completely gloss over the deeper stuff. But once the mask is eventually stripped away you can't help but see what was there the whole time.
And as we've established, being seen is a whole aspect of Astarion's romance arc.
I originally romanced Astarion for the same reasons I'm sure most did: he's a hot, sexy vampire elf (i.e. everything that's on the surface). But, I keep coming back to him over and over again for the person I know is waiting for me underneath the mask.
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inkskinned · 4 months
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yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."
i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.
the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.
mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.
later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.
sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.
but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.
i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.
every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.
wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?
the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:
he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.
every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.
mahler's fifth still makes me sick.
give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.
give me back what you took from me.
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drurrito · 2 months
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Night Drive (18+)
Summary: You get a new car
AN: 18+ only y'all--we're gonna pretend that there are plenty of other self-driving cars that aren't t*sla...I hope this makes up for me not putting out another part of AYTO yet! All mistakes are mine.
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Warnings: cursing; reader has a dick; dom//powerbottom!Natasha; sub//top!reader
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You sink lower into your seat as you rev the engine of your new car with the widest grin Natasha can't see. Natasha looks hardly impressed from your view beyond the barely-legal tint of the windows.
You decide to roll down your window and plead your case.
"Hey baby."
Natasha rolls her eyes. You already screw yourself coming right out the gate with pleasantries, Natasha knows you're desperate to get on her good side when you do that.
"So...what do you think?" You vaguely gesture to the rest of the car and Natasha scoffs.
"I think you were a finance bro in your past life," she crosses her arms, and you relent, "probably," you sing as you round the car to lean against the hood. The gun metal gray still holds a shine in the moonlight. This wasn't an impulse purchase, you had been talking about buying a new car for a while now. You would go on little rants about the specs of certain cars whenever you saw them on the road or on TV. It's not like you were waiting when you had the money, being an avenger was a pretty-paying gig. You were just waiting for the right one, at the right time--a method you mastered by the time Natasha came around.
"Wanna go for a joyride?" You offer, already leaning off the hood and spinning the key in your hand.
Natasha wants to keep giving you a hard time, but you look so damn good in front of your sleek, expensive, new backdrop. Your muscles bulge under your fitted black shirt, and you have the cockiest smile on your face, like you knew you were winning this race.
"And if we get pulled over?"
"With SHIELD plates? I'm not worried about it," it almost comes out like it's scripted. You're not above rehearsing a speech for Natasha if it means getting your way. You're pulling out all the stops, but Natasha wants to remind you who's really behind the wheel. Her eyes rake over you slowly, intensely--the same way fresh lava travels over earth. You're standing at attention and you don't even know it.
"You gonna open the door for me or just stand there like you forgot your manners?" Natasha watches in amusement as you fumble for the door handle. She slides onto the cool leather while you make your way into the driver's seat yet again. You wait patiently for her to get comfortable and buckle in.
It's only when you rev the engine with a wink that Natasha muses this might have been a bad idea on her part. You punch the gas pedal and she's quickly acquainted with the back of the cherry red bucket seat.
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Natasha decides that she doesn't like going fast unless the fate of the world depends on it. She also decides this is the one exception when she sees the freeway system of veins in your forearms as you grip the steering wheel. Natasha feels like she's flying when she watches your triceps flex while you turn the wheel or do something as mundane as turning on her seat heater.
Natasha slides her seatbelt off in a way that doesn't set off the sensor--she didn't want this moment to be ruined by a lecture on why it's important to buckle-up. You're too distracted by the beat of your night drive playlist to notice her crawling closer to you.
You feel her lips on the shell of your ear, "eyes on the road, got it?"
"Yes ma'am," you try to say cooly, you don't dare chance a look over at her. She hums with satisfaction and rewards you with a kiss on the skin behind your ear and a nibble on your lobe that tightens the coil in your belly.
Natasha sucks and licks at your neck while her deft fingers work to undo your belt and zipper. Her hand explores the border of your waistband before dipping under and finding what it was looking for. You let out a whisper of a gasp when Natasha admires your full length and girth. Your grip on the wheel tightens, Natasha chuckles when she hears the leather under your fingers groan.
Natasha begins to stroke you slowly, agonizingly so, but that doesn't keep your hips from bucking up into her hand.
"Tash," that only elicits a rumble against your neck. Natasha's other hand curls around your neck and gives a light squeeze that makes your vision blur for a second. Her stroking picks up speed, you have to work impossibly hard to keep your foot off the brakes.
"Natasha, please."
"I like the way you say please, baby," she mumbles with your skin between her teeth.
"What did I tell you?"
"Eyes on the road, ma'am," you say with a quickness that makes the corner of her lips curl up in satisfaction.
"So smart," she praises before you helplessly watch her head lower until you feel her lips greet your cock with a sloppy kiss. You throw your head back against your seat with a pathetic moan.
"So desperate," Natasha teases, and your mind feels like it's going a million miles an hour--multitasking is usually your strong suit, but it seems damn near impossible now.
Natasha's tongue travels the length of you, your hips feebly buck into her mouth when she finally grants you entrance. You slow your speed to safely take a hand off the wheel and hold her hair back. She thanks you with a gentle squeeze on your thigh and the prettiest sounds you could have only ever imagined.
Your playlist is already repeating itself by the time Natasha comes up for air. She can barely hear it over your panting anyway. You're rock hard and right where she wants you.
"The car can drive itself, you know," you breathe out. Natasha's brow quirks with curiosity.
"Show me," it's a gentle command, but your fingers rush to press the right sequence of buttons. You ease the seat back with haste, and Natasha just lets you sit there for a few beats to take you in and also leave you in suspense.
Your fingers dumbly flex against your legs while you wait for further instruction from Natasha. She doesn't even try to hide her smirk when your eyes begin to dart between the road and her.
"You're not gonna let us crash right, dove?" Natasha's finger traces a feather-light trail down your arm. It's a genuine question, even though she knows you probably did some sizable research on the safety features of the car before you even entertained buying it.
"No ma'am, you're precious cargo," you give an easy smile and that's Natasha's cue to move and straddle your lap. You help her with your hands on her hips, your hands quickly retreating to your sides when she's situated over you.
Natasha swears your eyes are sparkling as you watch her slide her panties to the side with one hand and take your length in the other.
"Eyes on me, baby, just for a second," she coos and you obey. Natasha can't help but admire the striations of your muscles working overtime to restrain yourself. You've always been intoxicatingly obedient, even when it's downright painful. Your eyes are locked on Natasha's, you have to bite your lip to stifle a moan when she finally eases down onto your cock. She's already working her hips in a way that has your entire body buzzing. You can count on one hand how many cars have passed you by this whole time, just like you expected.
Your fingers dig into the leather of your seat, your eyes periodically glancing at the road to make sure it hasn't veered off course for whatever reason. Natasha steals a few sloppy kisses when she leans into you to get a better angle and bounce on your cock at a speed that should be illegal.
"Tash, I'm gonna-," you choke out between labored breaths.
"What was that baby?" she leans back and oh god, you wish you had the kind of self-control your car has right now. You feel like you're going to pass out watching Natasha ride your cock, you're too blissed out to realize that she's spelling out 'm-i-n-e-' with her hips.
"I'm gonna come so fast."
"I know baby."
That seals your fate. Your arm reaches back to brace yourself against the seat. With a long and drawn-out "fuck," Natasha feels you push deeper into her, filling her up with every last drop of you. You both fall into a sweaty, moaning heap against the seat. Your body trembling with aftershocks as Natasha scratches at the skin on the back of your neck. You only get to drink this feeling in for a few seconds until you see red and blue flashing lights in your rearview mirror.
"Shit," you sit up and Natasha freezes when she sees what you see. You feverishly check your speedometer, you're not speeding. You start rifling through your brain to see if you forgot to do something, insurance? Plates? Registration?
Your questions are answered when you watch the cop car speed off into the night. Natasha lets out a heavy sigh of relief that makes your dick twitch, reminding you both that you're still inside of her.
"Told you," you try not to sound so exasperated. Natasha just rolls her eyes before kissing your temple. Night drives might just become a regular thing now.
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flowrmoth · 2 months
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...and then what happened?
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DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE
Synopsis: your date last night with another girl got real juicy and ellie couldn't help but ask about it...
AN: okay so... this is my first drabble/oneshot so i'm sorry if it sucks. also idk where this idea came from, i just love the idea of ellie being a flustered mess bcus of you hihi (also english is my second language so yeah)
wc: 1.9k
warnings: mdni!!! sexual themes, not really smut, pining, lowkey loser!ellie/perv!ellie?, ellies just obsessed with u ok?, reader being oblivious, no mentions of Y/N or readers looks! (the photos are just for the aesthetic),
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"So yeah, in conclusion, I totally beat Jesses ass. He doesn't know shit about pool." you laughed, getting comfortable on Ellies couch.
It was a relaxing Sunday night. You decided to spend the warm evening hanging out with Ellie, one of your closest friends. You definitely needed a breather after a long week of work. Ellie had informed you that she coped some weed from her dealer, so of course, you said yes to a smoke sesh.
You came prepared, nights like these at her place always meant that you would probably end up sleeping over and watching cheesy movies while covered in buttery popcorn and chocolate.
Now, you were sprawled out on her worn out, brown couch in your pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt. Ellies outfit and position mimicking yours, her long legs stretched out in front of her, eyes glued to the insanely boring Sci-Fi movie she picked out and a joint in hand. You were recalling the events of last Friday when you went out with Dina and Jesse and when you finally beat Jesse at pool.
"Damn, can't believe you beat the master himself. He won't ever live that down." Ellie chuckled, taking a drag from the newly lit spliff she rolled before you came over. She looked over at you with tired eyes and smiled. Fuck, she was never getting over this crush. To be honest, Ellie couldn't fucking stop thinking about you. Every day, every second, you were the only thing on her mind. But of course, she was too afraid to do anything about it, too scared that she would fuck everything up and lose you if she confessed. So she decided to remain quiet and enjoy you from afar, basking in your beauty ever time you would sleep in her bed or smoke her weed.
"Duh, I'm a hundred times better than him." you said with a smirk, looking over at Ellie and taking the joint from her slender fingers.
Fuck.
She just remembered. You had a date last night. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You've been raving about this girl, Sarah or whatever the hell her name was, for weeks. Some girl that was coming to your work and finally asked you out last week. Ellie broke a sweat. She had to know what happened.
Did you kiss?
Did you fuck?
God, she'd hoped not.
"Hey, um, how was your date last night? With Sarah?" she asked sheepishly, trying not to sound to dry and nervously fiddling with her ear. She looked over at you and your eyes widened.
"Oh my god! I can't believe I forgot to tell you! Her name's Sophia, Ellie, you know this." you jumped in your seat from excitement and turned your body to face Ellie. "Yeah, yeah, Sophia. Whatever. How was it?" Ellie rolled her eyes, not really caring for the girl.
You sat criss-cross from her, beaming with happiness. You couldn't wait to tell Ellie about the night. "Okay, so, you know that new restaurant?" you ranted with a big smile, retelling Ellie all about the dinner you had, the drinks you ordered and the pretty flowers your date had brought you, but all Ellie could think about was if you went home with the girl. She focused on the TV while you talked, looking over at you with brief glances, too afraid you might notice the disappointment and jealousy twinkling in her eyes or the way her fingers were gripping the joint so tightly she thought it might rip in half.
That girl hadn't even bought you the right damn flowers, or ordered the right drink. She didn't fucking know anything about you. Ellie knew that your favorite flowers weren't roses, far from it, and who the hell orders tequila for a first date? You were clearly a 'daises and whiskey' kinda girl. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.
After the part about the dinner and what not, you finally got to the part about going to Sophias apartment, which Ellie had secretly hoped had not happened. Ellie felt her heart drop and a cold sweat ran from her head right to her stomach. Fuck.
"Then, she asked me if I wanted to smoke, so of course I agreed immediately. I was nervous anyways because she was so hot, you know? Figured it would calm me down." you talked, moving your hands excitedly while Ellie was just nodding along, trying to match your energy as best as she could. She cringed at the word 'hot'.
"Wait, I'm gonna re-enact exactly what happened, 'cus damn, she knew what she was doing!" you laughed, definitely enjoying the replay of last night. Ellies mouth was dry. What the fuck do you mean re-enact what happened?
"And then, she sat on the couch and was all like 'Come here'." you made sure to put on a seductive voice and manspread a bit, while motioning your finger, trying to act out the scene as you remembered. At this point, Ellie was fucked. She prayed the story would be over soon so she could stop imagining you with someone that's not her.
Someone else's hands touching you, caressing you, tracing their fingers around every damn curve of your body that she so badly wanted to feel. It was too much for her.
"Yeah?" Ellie whispered, throwing a questioning look your way. Her hands were getting clammy and the joint was starting to die out.
"Yeah, and then..." you eye her up and down "I kind of like, straddled her. Like this." you chuckled, enjoying the recreation of previous events.
Slowly, you got up from your criss-cross position and started moving towards Ellies side of the couch. Your stare was a dangerous one, one that Ellie has never seen before. Her breath hitched and she swallowed thickly. She could feel the hairs on her neck standing up. Her bangs sticking to her slightly damp forehead.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. You were definitely too high, because what the hell is happening?
Your hazy, drunken stare set onto her panicked one. Your hands made their way to Ellies shoulders, gripping them for support. One of your legs swung over Ellies and settled at the side of her thighs, straddling them.
"Then," you took the joint from her shaky fingers and brought it up to your lips, taking a long drag "she did something like this." with a whisper, your hand cupped Ellies cheeks and squeezed them lightly so her lips would part. As you got closer to her face, you blew the thick smoke into her mouth. Ellies eyes immediately darted to your lips and her own got dry with nervousness. She puffed out the rest of the smoke.
Her words were caught in her throat, but she had to say something. Anything. Just to make you stay in this position longer.
"And, um... And then what?" Great fucking question, Ellie. Her voice came out small and hushed. She swore she tried not to sound too tense, but with your fucking perfect thighs sitting on her own, your perfect face so close to hers, your perfect perfume, that she would sometimes steal to from your purse and quickly spray on her wrist, was invading her space completely. She was awestruck, but still tried to play it cool like this wasn't the best thing that has happened to her. Her hands automatically moved to your plush thighs, giving them a light squeeze.
You let out a laugh and whispered, putting out the spliff in the ashtray next to you "And then, um, I don't know. She did this thing, on my neck, that felt so good, but I don't know how to do it." this was actually one of your first sexual/romantic experiences with someone, so it was still new and you still didn't really know what you were doing. You just thought you were sharing a great experience with a great friend.
"Y-yeah? What thing?" Ellie tried to egg you on with a nervous chuckle. This was too good to be true for it to be over so soon. She didn't dare move her hand from your legs, not even an inch. She could bet that her face looked like a fucking tomato right now from how hard she was blushing, but she didn't care when the prettiest girl she had ever seen was in her fucking lap.
"Something likes this..." you bow your head to meet your lips with Ellies neck. Your mouth hadn't even grazed her pulse point, but you could already feel it quickening. You press your lips to her sweet spot, just for a moment, before opening your mouth and sucking in her skin lightly. Her skin tasted so sweet, so soft, with a hint of her signature wood-y perfume and natural scent.
Ellie rolled her eyes so hard she thought she was seeing heaven. She was trying so hard not to let out a stifled moan that was threatening to escape her throat. That will definitely leave a hickey. You let her neck go, kissing the newly bruised spot once or twice, now moving your mouth to her jaw and peppering kisses along the way. Your hand eventually found its way to the back of Ellies head, tangling your fingers in her auburn locks.
Ellie couldn't help but squeeze your thighs, giving you encouragement to continue, her long fingers digging into your soft flesh. She tried so hard to not slide her hands up your thighs and under your pajama shorts. She felt every fucking inch of you underneath her. Your legs squeezing hers, your chests so unbelievably close, one of your hands resting on her shoulder while the other one was working its way through her messy hair. She was so aware of your pelvis pressing into hers, she prayed that you couldn't feel her every goddamn pulse.
You finished off your performance with a quick, delicate kiss at the corner of her lips as you slid away your hands from her body, leaving her all sweaty and worked up. You climbed off of her and went back to your side of the couch, completely unaware of the fucking effect you have on Ellie.
Ellie almost whimpered when she felt your heat leave her, suddenly feeling cold and empty without your body on hers. Like a missing puzzle piece. She shifted upwards and cleared her throat, tucking her hair behind her ears with her shaky palms, rubbing them on her grey shorts. She didn't dare look at you, fearing that you would see her wide eyes and red cheeks.
"Sorry, I hope that wasn't that bad." you glance at Ellie and say with an unknowing smile, acting like nothing happened. Like the greatest thing that Ellie has ever witnessed didn't just occur. You returned to your phone, probably texting the girl whose kisses you just acted out.
Ellie felt sick. Sick with want and sick with the fact that that wasn't real. What just happened wasn't real, but holy fuck, did she enjoy it.
"Yeah, no, that was, uh, good. Wow. Can't believe s-she did all that." she tried to stutter out with closed eyes and clenched fists, getting up from the couch.
"Right? I know!" you returned. "I'm just gonna go to- Yeah, be right back." Ellie said quickly while making her way to the bathroom, almost tripping on her own feet in the process.
She swiftly got in and went straight to the sink. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, not the mention the beads of sweat on her forehead and the damp spot that formed beneath her black boxers. Fuck, she was so embarrassed that only a fucking kiss on the neck got her so worked up. She turned on the tap and splashed her face with cold water, looking at herself in the mirror.
Fuck, Ellie was so in love with you.
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hunnieknight · 1 year
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"The Rooster's Little Chick" (+Art)
You are Pulcinella's precious grandchild. The Rooster brings you-the little chick- out of the coop to his field, and of course, he regrets it. A continue from this
GN! Reader, all Harbinger except Signora and Scaramouche, timeline after signora's funeral and before Sumeru event, mention of Signora's death and Scara's betrayal, reader is called using 'Master' by Pulcinella's underlings, age-gap , bit of comedic/crack, hints of yandere, borderline possessive, implied stalking and obsessive behaviour.
Note : Pulcinella able to control cryo in this hc. I DO NOT SPEAK RUSSIAN
Series II Series III
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Hatching
Pulcinella thought you both can bond together as grandpa-grandchild after this meeting. So he just asked you to pick him up while making sure you got his fatui emblem and his feather so you can get past the soldiers.
Pulcinella thought since you are so normal and regular, he can let the other Harbingers see you eye-to-eye.
Boy, for years working with them...he should've known.
You caught their eyes at first glance, but not because they are smitten, their dirty side of sick curiosity and pure dominance is what drove them to you.
What? you think because you are Pulcinella's precious grandchild they gonna treat you better? No no no, you are merely a blood child from their co-worker. They are going to treat you nicely only in front of your grandpa. Behind him? You are a little plaything, little baby chicken away from its protective rooster.
But Pulcinella knows. He knows his co-workers are psychos.
So as a good grandpa, he didn't hesitate to THREATEN the others if they hurt you in any way possible. Showed off his cryo power, he will make sure being frozen to death is the kindest mercy they will ever get if you got hurt.
First Chirp
It "tamed" the others, but not enough to make them back off. They are all curious and truth-seeker at heart.
Pulcinella never gave them your name, Keeping his mouth shut and only calling you "child" or "kid" whenever the others were with him. He makes sure the only information they know about you is you are his grandchild.
Once they eavesdrop and heard how you are "an adult and can take care of yourselves around his co-workers". You can bet those who eavesdrop just giggle and smirk hearing your statement.
But one day a mistake happened, after a meeting, when Childe is the first one to leave the room, his eyes widened in excitement to see you waiting outside the meeting room.
Gloved hands fidgeting with the bag with a Pyro Agent sharing his warmth with you using his pyro delusion. Your head is tucked under the cover of a fluffy hat with Pulcinella's feather, your mouth is hidden behind a scarf, and your red nose and cheek caused by the harsh cold of Snezhaya make you more eye-catching and interesting to him.
The Agent has spilt your name accidentally whilst Childe approaches you. "Master {Name}, would you like me to bring you a spare coat instead?". Both of you didn't realise Childe coming closer, Childe's heart jumped out of his chest after learning your name.
"So your name is {Name}!!!" Childe's loud voice booms around the hall into the meeting room where everyone's still packing their stuff. He smirked towards the meeting room door aaaanddd- "Childe..." there you go. He can't see it but he felt the disappointment in Pulcinella's eyes, hidden by his glasses.
Pulcinella who still standing by the door frame can feel the excitement from the meeting room. His sharp eyes stared at Childe who still smirking and slowly approaching you who froze at the loud call of your name. Now they know your name.
First Flap
Their behaviours are like a paradox. Whatever their doing is always the opposite of their reason. Are you... supposed to feel afraid because they are your grandpa's co-workers...or you supposed to feel frightened because they are THE HARBINGERS.
Huh? What do you mean they are invading your personal time? They just want to make sure there is no betrayal -like one from their own- from Pulcinella's side you know? Just to be safe.
They are not being pushy, they just want their co-worker's sweet grandchild to be safe. They just recently lost someone too not that they care ofc.
Hiding you away is unnecessary and telling you to not pick him up again has shown to be a futile attempt. When your grandpa told you to not go to the Palace, he found you being pampered in the palace hall by Childe who casually just said he invited you to the Palace. He didn't invite you, he stole you. Pulcinella tried to put one or three agents to cover you, but knowing his co-worker, they will not hesitate to deck Pulcinella's soldier just to get to you.
Sometimes you are just a toy. Finding where you are hiding is now a favourite game of theirs, where are you after meeting? Will you be outside the door waiting for your grandpa? Will you be in his office instead all tucked up warming yourself? Will you be in the garden hidden by the white bushes? Or you are in the library busy with books?.
A little chicken hid away in this harsh cold field. The Rooster? Of course, wouldn't hesitate to claw the "eagles" who trying to scoop you up.
Childe felt like he is the most worthy of you. You are not far off from his age and he feels like he has the responsibility of taking care of you as a payment to Pulcinella for taking care of his family. He is the only Harbingers who can interact with you outside the Palace but not for long. Considering he is a debt collector which forces him to travel, of course, he made sure to bring you a souvenir from any nation he visited.
Dottore is one of Harbingers who actively seeking you out. But not directly, he will order his underlings to check if you are in the Palace by yourself. If yes, he will tell them to whisk you away to his lab keeping you to himself. Often ended with Pulcinella having to directly pick you up from Dottore and checked your body for any injuries. Considering he is more hands-on in his experiment.
Pantalone and Sandrone have different approaches. You often found presents sent to your home. From a very fancy scarf and pieces of jewellery to some toys and plushies to really high-quality gadgets. Your grandpa often told you to just throw it away in fear they put some kind of tracking or camera to spy on you.
Columbina is also one of the hands-on when it comes to you. She often whisks you away after meeting, knowing you will be waiting for your grandpa. Of course, she has to race with Childe, seeing Childe just shot up from his seat whenever Pierro ended the meeting. Funny how instead of your own grandpa, it's his co-workers who are more excited to play with you.
Huh, Arlecchino just passed by you, completely ignoring you besides a simple glance. Is she not interested in you? Well, that is good, you heard from Childe she dislikes the businessmen Pulcinella and Pantalone. Either way, you can relax around- Huh...is it you or it seem like you see Fatuis agents a lot in your area now?
Speaking of Pierro and Capitano, they both are so conflicted with themselves. They know that compared to you, they are ANCIENT. The age gap and the generation gap are vast. They will have a crisis because it is their workmate's grandchild. Aren't they supposed to be your second grandpa instead? No no no, that won't do at all. They need to make sure they will be the second in command to take care of you if Pulcinella is away.
PULCINELLA DOES NOT TRUST ANYONE AT ALL.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
Text
daddys home
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words: 1.8k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, establish relationship (theyre married!), dad!rafe, mom!reader, p in v sex (protected), female receiving oral, mentions of pregnancy/breeding, readers stretch marks are described briefly
“when is daddy getting home?” your daughter asks for what feels like the millionth time since rafe left for work this morning.
you sigh, rubbing your forehead, hoping it alieves your splitting headache. “any minute now, poppy. why don't you go get a cup of water for him and leave it on the counter?”
you know that the task will occupy her for some time, having to drag her step stool that she uses when helping you cook around the kitchen to get a cup and fill it.
you let out a breath of relief when you hear rafe pull into the driveway.
“daddy! daddy!” poppy hears the noise as well, running to the garage door, jumping up and down excitedly as she waits for rafe to come in.
she jump-tackles him as soon as he opens the door. rafe laughs, catching her in his arms.
“hi baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of her head, toeing his shoes off onto the mat.
“welcome home.” you say, moving over to rafe, pressing your face into the shoulder that poppy isn't currently resting hers against.
“you okay?” rafe whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. he sets poppy down carefully, only half listening as she begins to tell him about getting rafe a water all by herself like a big girl.
“yeah, she's just been… a lot today.” you sigh, wrapping your arms around rafes waist, snuggling into his warm body.
“hey, poppy. wanna spend the night at aunt wheezies?” rafe asks.
“yes! yes! yes!” poppy screams, quickly flying up the stairs to her room with her unstoppable toddler energy to pack a bag.
“thank you.” you look to rafe, taking a moment to press a kiss to his lips.
“wheeze has been begging to have her over, she'll be so happy.” rafe says, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “and you can get a real break.”
“god, i need it too.” you laugh, pulling away from rafe but not before giving him another kiss. “i love poppy to death, but she can be so exhausting some days.”
“aw, baby.” rafe coos. “why don't you go get in the bath, ill help poppy pack a bag then take her over the wheezies.”
“mmm, sounds perfect, can't wait to spend a night just us.” you wink at rafe before both heading further into the house and up the stairs. poppy has had a string of clinginess lately, especially at night knowing you and rafe are just down the hall, so she fakes nightmares to sleep in your bed.
it's nice having her so close, but at the same time you haven't been intimate with rafe in months.
“poppy.” you call into her room, seeing her stuffing pajamas into her backpack. “you be good for auntie wheezie, okay? ill pick you up in the morning and if you behaved, we can go to the park.”
“okay, mommy.” poppy nods, a serious look on her face.
“daddy is gonna help you pack then take you over.” you finish, looking to rafe.
“thank you again babe.” you whisper, rubbing your thumb over his cheek before heading towards your bedroom. you turn on the hot tap in the master bath, letting the jacuzzi tub fill as you scrounge in the cabinets for your epsom salt.
you let out a groan when you sink into the bath, eyes closing as you relax into the hot water, your muscles finally getting a break after entertaining poppy all day.
you relax in the bath until the water starts to turn room temperature. you pull the drain before getting out, toweling yourself dry. you go through your skincare routine quickly before pulling your robe on.
you exit the bathroom to see rafe on the bed, back against the headboard, having changed out of his work clothes to sweats.
“was she excited?” you question.
“poppy or wheezie?” rafe jokes, a soft smile on his face. “both of them were so excited, but i think wheeze might have more fun than poppy does.”
“that's good.” you laugh before taking a deep sigh.
“how are you feeling now?” rafe asks, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. you move to stand in front of him, letting your knees press into the side of the mattress.
“a million times better. no more headache.”
“good.” rafe tugs at the strap on your robe, not hard enough to undo it, but making his intentions clear. “wanna lay down?” 
“just lay down?” you smirk, raising one eyebrow.
“if that's what you want,” rafe takes your hands in his, bringing your knuckles up to his lips, pressing kisses along your skin. “mrs. cameron.”
“i want you.” you tell rafe, taking your hand out of his grasp to tug your robe open, revealing yourself to him. you slide the fabric off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.
“you're so beautiful.” rafe says, eyes sweeping over your naked body. he rubs a hand over your stomach, the small lines running over your skin, the physical reminder of your pregnancy.
“this part of you is the most beautiful.” rafe leans forward, kissing the stretch marks. “because it shows that you carried our daughter. kept her safe inside you for nine months until he she was ready to see the world.”
“you're gonna make me cry.” you sniffle, feeling tears start to form.
“wanna make you cry a different way.” rafe says, standing up suddenly while turning you swiftly, pushing your hips down so now you're the one sat on the edge of the mattress.
rafe sinks down to his knees, spreading your thighs open for him, revealing your cunt.
“you know-” you gasp when rafe begins to kiss along your inner thighs, inching closer to your center. “i was worried when i first got pregnant that you wouldn’t be attracted to me after i gave birth.”
“really?” rafe questions. “why would you ever worry about something as impossible as that?”
“pregnancy brain.” you shrug, eyes fluttering closed as rafe spreads your thighs further, wrapping his hand around your ankle and bringing your heel up onto the bed.
“well, mrs. cameron-” rafe leans in, licking a stripe straight through your folds. “no need to worry anymore, i find you very attractive.”
you smile, bringing one hand to rafes hair, clutching it between your finger as he dives in, tongue swiping through your wetness, tasting you on his tongue. rafe works his way up from your entrance to your clit before lapping over the sensitive skin there.
“taste so good mama.” rafe hums, letting his tongue flick and play with your clit. you let out a cry, glad that you’re able to be as loud as you want with poppy out of the house.
“more.” you whine.
“all these years later, carrying my baby and you're still my little slut.” rafe tsks, bringing his finger to your entrance and plunging it in, thrusting in and out slowly as his lips wrap around your clit, giving gentle sucks to build you up, tease you.
“can’t wait for you to fuck me.” you toss your head back, pushing your hips even further into rafes face.
“yeah, you miss my cock?” 
“all the time.” you whine, bringing your other foot onto the bed as well, spreading your knees wide open to give rafe even more space to work into you as he adds a second finger.
“you think after being married for five years you’d be sick of me.” rafe jokes, but you shake your head.
“never, daddy.” the nickname impacts rafe differently now that he is actually a dad, knowing it comes from a different place.
“god, i was gonna have you cum on my tongue three times before i fucked you, but i need you too badly.” rafe stands up, but not before pressing another kiss to your clit, now puffy and red from the attention.
rafe hesitates before reaching for the nightstand drawer, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but before you can comment on it, he is removing his clothes and rolling the condom onto his length and lining himself up with your cunt. 
he rubs briefly through your folds before pushing in, sinking into your pussy. you let out a loud moan, unafraid to get interrupted by your daughter as rafe copies your moan right back.
“such a perfect pussy for me baby.” rafe coos, beginning to pump his hips forward. you wrap your legs around his hips as he leans forward, pushing until your back is resting against the sheets. he hovers over you, pressing your lips together. 
you moan into his mouth, moving your hips up and down in sync with his thrusts. your bare chests are rubbing together, yours still slightly damp from the bath. your nipples catch as rafe moves, making you whimper.
“so big.” you cry out, hands moving along rafes back, feeling the cords of muscles as they stretch with his movements.
“filling you up real good, huh?” rafe smirks, cocky that he can still get you in this state just from his dick.
“so good.” you turn your head to bite rafes earlobe, tugging on it. “you know,-” you gasp when rafe speeds up. “this is the same position we were in when i got pregnant with poppy.”
you remember the night well, when you ran out of condoms and decided together fuck it, were married, and you were blessed with your little girl soon after.
“yeah? want me to take the condom off mama? fill your belly up again?” rafe asks, moving a thumb to your clit, rubbing it quickly.
“yeah, daddy, yeah i do- fuck!” your back arches off the bed as rafe pumps faster, your body quivering as his thumb strokes you to orgasm, the tightening of your cunt causing him to spill into the condom.
rafe breaths heavily, hips slowly grinding into you as you work through your highs.
rafe pulls out as you try to stop your deep gasps of breaths. he pulls the condom off and tosses it in the trash can before climbing back onto the bed, flopping down next to you.
“were you serious?” rafe asks.
you don't need any more context to know exactly what rafe is referring to.
“i wouldn't mind having another baby.” you say honestly. “besides, poppy will start kindergarten in around a year, so think about in around nine months having another little one.” you feel yourself already beginning to tear up at the thought, wiping a tear from your cheek.
“oh, baby.” rafe coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling you into him. “well, since poppy is still at aunt wheezies…” rafe trails off, moving his hand from your waist lower to cup your pussy. “we can get trying right now.”
“it only took you one try for poppy.” you remind rafe, slinging your leg over rafes body, twisting yourself to sit on top of him, rubbing your cunt over his length.
“yeah…” rafe places his hands on your hips, flipping you over so your back is against the bed. “but maybe i want more than one try.” rafe says as his cock slides back inside of you.
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4st4rion · 7 months
Text
some close proximity
ao3 link
just over 1k; astarion is in a bad mood, u make him feel better, kissing ensues. second person pov (astarion x you) and fully gender neutral. mild act 3 spoilers!
Astarion has been in a bad mood all day, and, frankly, you're fucking sick of it.
You don't confront him in front of everyone, because you're not an asshole, but you wait until it's just the two of you left in your rooms at the Elfsong, everyone else gone to have dinner and drink downstairs.
He's about to leave, too, but you stop him with a hand on his arm.
"Astarion," you say, hoping it comes off as gently as possible.
He whips around, brows furrowed together in an angry expression.
"What?"
You raise your eyebrows at him. He's really in a bad mood if he's being this short with his own lover.
"Astarion," you repeat, firmly this time. "What's going on with you today?"
A hundred emotions war over his face — first it's the anger at being called out, then denial that anything is wrong, then guilt and regret for snapping at you, and his eyes avoid your own as he heaves a dramatic sigh.
"Nothing," he lies, in that near-hysterical pitch he has when he's worked up. "We're only lingering in my ex-master's hunting grounds, staying at the tavern I used to hunt," he says. "How could I possibly be anything but ecstatic to hang around?"
You frown.
"Is that what it is?" you ask, ignoring the part of you that wants to get defensive about his tone with you. "Astarion, you're safe with us," you remind him, taking his hand and holding it intently. "None of us would let any harm come to you."
He flinches like he's going to pull his hand away, but decides not to.
"How do you know?" he mutters, still not looking at you. "Cazador himself could come find us any night."
"He'd be a fool to," you hum. "You're surrounded by allies, and you're no longer under his control."
You squeeze his hand.
"Cazador is probably cowering right now, afraid of his own death, knowing we're in the city," you say, and that almost gets Astarion to smirk.
"I'm sure he's shitting himself," Astarion says sarcastically, but you roll with it.
"And pissing, too," you add. "He's running out of pants from how often he's shitting and pissing himself."
That, stupid as it is, makes Astarion laugh.
He glances at you, then scoffs, still smiling.
"I hate that you make me feel better," he admits, winding his fingers around yours. "Little shit."
You smile back.
"I'm your little shit, though," you say, before you can consider whether you should or not, and he goes still.
"Are you?" he asks, softly. Cautiously.
"A little shit?" you ask, giving you both the chance to escape this conversation, but he only laughs one amused huff.
"No," he says. "Are you? Mine?"
The look in his eyes is dangerous; you want to pull him into a kiss and never stop, give him anything and everything, let the world melt around you in favor of giving yourself to him, body and mind and soul.
"Maybe," you say, trying to sound coy but sounding nervous, instead.
The hand that isn't in yours comes to up pet you, his thumb running over your cheekbone and your lower lip before he leans in to kiss you. It's as intoxicating as ever, and you let yourself relax as the two of you kiss over and over in your shared room.
Your free hand holds him at his hip, first, then at his waist, pulling him in until the two of you are flush together. He won't stop kissing you, stealing your breath away and swallowing anything you may have to say about the situation.
"Are you mine?" he asks again, once you're flustered and weak in the knees.
You swallow thickly.
"Might be," you admit, but it's not what he wants to hear — his hands leave you to guide you by your hips, back until your legs meet your comfortable daybed and you tumble down onto the mattress.
He climbs on top of you, and you'd compare him to a predator if he wasn't giggling quietly to himself as he bullies between your legs. You can't help but laugh, too, because it's a little ridiculous, isn't it? You've been together, been something, since you helped the tieflings at Emerald Grove, fighting side by side and barely ever apart — it should be easy enough to admit that you're his.
He pulls your shirt off of you and sets to laying kisses down your neck and chest, paying extra attention just under your ear until you know there's going to be a lovebite worried into your skin.
"Bastard," you mutter, but he only laughs again.
"Everyone already knows we're together," he reasons. "I might as well mark you."
His words send something hot creeping under your skin. You'd like that, you think — being marked as belonging to someone. How different is a lovebite from a wedding ring, when you think about it? Or a collar, or a scar? It's a symbol of ownership, isn't it?
"Don't tempt me to do the same," you threaten, even though that thought sends something even hotter through you. He'd look good with a ring of bruises bitten around his neck, outlines of your teeth indented in his skin.
He bites at your neck, not drawing blood but not gently, and it startles a quiet noise out of you.
"Tell me you are mine," he says this time, and you can't deny it any longer.
"I'm yours," you sigh, as his teeth make themselves at home in your neck.
"Only mine," he growls, and you laugh. You've certainly been getting hit on a lot lately, yeah; between the Emperor shooting his shot and having to stop Halsin from confessing his feelings, it's no surprise he's feeling possessive.
"Only yours," you purr. You drape your arms over his shoulders and pull him closer, arching against him to press your body up to his and baring your neck for him. "I haven't thought of anyone but you since we met," you admit, your voice as low and sultry as you can manage.
He whines against you and takes your offering, biting into your neck with his fangs and drawing blood. It doesn't happen every time you have sex, and it doesn't always lead to sex, but sex and feeding are entwined enough that one tends to tangle into the other. Not that you mind, far from it — his bite becomes pleasantly numb as he drinks from you and the mild lightheadedness only adds to how dreamy it is every time you get intimate with him.
"You mean everything to me," you say, slow and sleepy-sounding, everything getting further and further away as he drinks. "You are everything to me."
He makes another desperate noise into your veins and pulls up, away. His mouth seals over the same spot to suck the last trickles of blood that ooze up and he licks to help the wound begin to heal, his tongue especially familiar here.
As soon as he trusts your skin not to split back open, he's moving up to kiss you again. You'd be more disturbed by the taste of your own blood on his tongue if you weren't used to it by now.
"You are mine," he shudders between kisses. "Just as I am yours," he adds, his voice full of fake confidence.
"You are," you immediately affirm, wanting him to know it's true and it's mutual.
"Not like I was his," he hisses. “In a different way."
You nod against him.
"A better way," you agree, and he nods, too, kissing you even harder.
You stay that way for a good, long while, tangled together on the bed. Time and place melt away; the only things that exist or have ever existed are the two of you, here, now, together, and the quiet sounds of love between your mouths.
It's good.
It's perfect.
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37-drc89 · 7 months
Text
the way things go; lee minho
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❁ nothing warms your heart more than his presence.
trope: roommates to lovers.
genre: comfort, slight angst, work exhaustion, happy ending.
summary: finally understanding that your failure doesn't scare him away.
warnings: blood, mention of overprotective parent, family problems, let me know if i should put anything more in here.
word count: 3,7k.
masterlist
note: this is very much my first fic here, like, ever. i'm still green in tumblr, any links and mostly making posts look good, but i'll eventually master it. i look forward to seeing your opinions and things i can change or make better, i'll appreciate every comment. and, please remember that english is not my first language! if you see any typo or something doesn't make sense, please inform me! thank you:)
Coming back home on Friday after whole week of working your ass off really feels like a walk of shame. You feel like everyone passing by can tell how awfully you did at your workplace today. And they wouldn't be wrong, the amount of scolds your boss threw in your direction through past few days is worryingly numerous.
Whether it was missing out on paper work your boss asked you to do for him, because you were so sure the deadline was set on the day after, or accidentially knocking off of your desk whole cup of hot, sweetened tea that later on you had to scrap off of the covering, under the strict eye of the middle aged man that scared you so much. Especially with the amount of misfortune that chased after you lately, like it was glued to you.
Cringe makes its way to your face. You're shuffling your way to your apartment, not really in a hurry, feet lazily dragged after you as you didn't even have any strenght to properly lift them off the ground. You most likely look like you've been partying for at least three nights in a row, but you can't find it in yourself to care about it. Not now.
Seeing the building in which your apartment is placed have never felt so relieving and you can feel your legs giving up under your weight just at the thought of splashing on the bed and dozing off. Vision of passing out on the sidewalk doesn't seem appealing to you, so you rush yourself to the door, typing entrance code and walking into the elevator, stairs not even crossing your mind. Your tired body slumps itself against the wall as you patiently wait to get to the 6th floor, finding relief in having something to support yourself on. Finally getting to the door you can't help but feel excited, tapping your feet happily just at the thought of making up every hour of sleep you've missed this week because of your busy schedule. You slide the door open and the very first thing reaching your ears is eager meowing, three fur balls appearing at the entrance immediately. You can't help but smile, kneeling to give each of them gentle head pat before taking off the coat and shoes. This truly felt like a bliss, like you've just slid off a bag of stones off your back. Sigh leaves your mouth, heading to the kitchen you turn on the kettle as your tea craving grows with every second. Soonie appears next to you, sitting at the table just across from you. You've grown so friendly with your roommate's Minho's cats that neither you nor him have any problem with kitties occupying places people normally wouldn't let them sit on.
Then you freeze for a second.
You look at Soonie.
Soonie looks at you.
Your brows furrow and the cat goes back to whatever he was doing previously.
Fuck.
Minho is coming home today. He's been away for past five days due to his business trip, that was probably exhaustion fogging your mind enough to forget about this. He's coming back today. And your apartment looks like a bomb has been detonated right in the middle of it all. You can't risk him seeing how messy you got, Minho is always the one to put stuff at the right place, making his bed no matter in how much of a hurry he's in, always the one to do the dishes and basically make everything look perfect. You can't see him disappointed in you for such an easy thing, he'll think you don't even gather your life together. Not like you do, but it's nothing in his business, you shouldn't become another one of his problems. He's just your roommate and the only thing you share and should take care of is apartment that is now in complete mess. You can blame it on your lack of time, barely spending any time at your place recently, but that won't help in current situation.
Quick glance at the time, 4:23 pm, you reach out for your phone to scroll up the conversation with your friend to make sure how fast you have to act.
He's back in town at 5 pm. Could this possibly get any worse?
You scold yourself internally for letting this whole situation happen. But you don't have time to think about this now, and as you turn off the kettle you speedrun to the livingroom, gathering scattered clothes from all around the place. You blame it on Monday when you got up so late you didn't even have time for brushing your hair and of course, the shirt you were looking for was nowhere to be found. Out of all things, it was the one you needed that day.
Then you pick up empty cans of soda, bottles of water and cups of coffee from the table and quickly throw them into the dishwasher. You blame it on Tuesday, the night you realised you have to write that fucking paperwork you got scolded for missing on Monday. So you sat there for hours, head empty, taking breaks only when your tired tears started wetting your pages, scared that all your miserable efforts will be ruined.
Rushing to Minho's room you pick up blanket and pillows from his floor. You blame it on Wednesday, the day you were already on the edge of breaking down and giving up on your job. Even though the boy is only a roommate for you, you've grown so used to his presence you started finding peace in it. Even after the worst day you knew that someone will always be there waiting at your apartment to serve you cup of hot chocolate and bowl of ramen, to take your turn of folding laundry or just listen to how appaling your day was. But he wasn't home and it left you all to yourself which was never the best idea. So, seeking for at least tiny bit of comfort, you slept on his floor. That sounds so fucking stupid and weird when you think about it now, but just the aura Minho left in his room made you feel a bit closer to him. Reminds you of every time he invited you over to play some online games for 12 year olds or spill any tea that happened at his work. Though, you never wanted to interfere his private space, so sleeping in his bed didn't even cross your mind. Floor was just sufficient for you, and you let your tears flow that night, just as much as you needed it. You know he would understand. He might seem cold to others, but you know he would. He already unwrapped his side of him to you letting you see that truly, inside, he's softer than anyone you know; It's all for Soonie, Doongie and Dori. They really do get the best of Minho.
Going back to the kitchen, you gather empty boxes of instant ramen, snacks and every ready shop food that you could possibly find at the convenience store. You blame it on the whole week of rushing, not even having time to eat a proper meal. You can feel it down your stomach, body demanding anything that could properly feed it and give it any strenght to function as it should be functioning. Honestly, you can't recall the last time you didn't feel sick. Lump in your throat was your loyal companion since a week ago, constant urge to throw up not leaving your body even when you were falling asleep and you know you'll have to appreciate normal, nutritions food more.
You run around the apartment holding a wet towel, wiping quickly every mirror hung on the walls as you know nothing pisses Minho more than fogged glass. So you try your best to do it carefully, just like he does it. Reaching the last mirror placed in the front hall you eagerly wipe it, aware of your lack of time. Then it all happens at once.
Shitty food, lack of sleep, liters of coffee and ungodly amount of stress feel like kicking in all at once, like it's been gathering in your exhausted body for the whole week just for this one moment that you needed to be fucking careful.
Vision blurry, feet suddently tripping over itself, mind going blank just for a second, but second is enough for you to try holding yourself onto the small table placed right under the mirror and shaking it so hard when sudden thump reach your ears, followed by loud sound of shattered glass. You don't want to look. Because you're fully aware of what just happened. You don't want to look but you do. Eyes landing on the remains of now broken vase, water all over the floor, flowers that were resting inside it now cut in half and completely soaked.
And it was Minho's favourite vase. The first and the last thing he always glanced at when leaving or coming back home, admiring its beauty, pretty patterns, unique shape and the prettiest flowers inside. Flowers that he got for his 25th birthday that passed not so long ago from his dearest best friend Jisung. Flowers that he was so happy to receive, first thing he did after coming home that day was showing them to you, proudly, ranting about how they perfectly suit the room. And you ruined it all.
Your body slides slowly on the wet floor, water soaking your pants on your knees and you support yourself on the palms of your hands not to completely fall into the mess. You feel small pieces of glass ripping open your delicate skin of your hands, small streams of blood making their way to the floor, mixing with spilled water but you couldn't care less. Elbows start to shake under the weight of your body, shoulders tensing and your head falls, your own quiet sobs reaching your ears. It quickly turns into uncotrollable groans and whines, tears now flowing down your face with no end, nose already full, loose hair stick to your now completely soaked cheeks.
And you blame it on yourself. You could seek for anything to put his all on, like your boss, for making you feel useless for not even managing to do your fucking job properly and assigning you more work than anyone else in your department. Or your mother for not teaching you how to manage your time and how to function on your own, her overprotectiveness during your childhood and teenage years showing so often that you never even got any time to learn adult life before stepping into it. But you know it isn't their fault, no matter how hard you try to think that it is. You let yourself into this situation. You let yourself be in the state you're currently in. You didn't try hard enough to make yourself a decent person. There's no one you can blame but you.
Your endless cries must've muffled the sound of door cracking open, eyes reaching only feet of your roommate that was now standing at the entrance. You couldn't look up, even if you wanted to, you couldn't look Minho in the eyes. Not when he's witnessing your failure and the mess you made out of something so dear to him.
Meanwhile Minho stood there, body frozen, gazing at your tiny figure splashed on the floor, shoulders shaking. He doesn't even notice the crashed vase at first, your current state drawing all his attention immediately to you.
He doesn't give himself any time to think much longer about what's happening in his front hall right now, dropping bags he's been holding in his right hand and suitcase on his left and appearing at your side the second after, kneeling by your vulnerable body on the floor.
"Hey, hey.." Minho lightly lays his hand on your shaky back, carefully caressing it to soothe you. "Easy now, I'm here."
The only respond he gets is your dramatic, loud sob ripping out of your heavy chest. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Minho... Is the only thing you could get out of yourself, followed by another set of pretty disgusting, wet cries.
"Are you hurt? Let me see your hand, please," your roommate asked quietly not to scare you after noticing red coloured drops beside your knees. Gently, he took your harmed hands into his and studied small pieces of glass stuck in your skin. "Let's get it cleaned, okay?"
His hand makes its way to your waist and he stands up slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves that could put you in pain. He shuffles you to the bathroom and helps you sit on the toilet seat and starts preparing alcohol and wet towels.
You feel pathetic.
Not only you ruined his special item, something so important and beautiful, but now he has to take care of someone that caused all the damage. You feel helpless once again, like you couldn't do anything fucking right for once. Once.
Your caring roommate starts removing glass shatters from your wound, his tongue sticking out a bit from the corner of his mouth, fully concentrated in his task. He knows that if his hands twitch even a little bit, he might hurt you even more, and let me tell you, his hands are trembling. He can't recall a situation when he saw you in such state.
You always seem tough, tough against any misfortune that meets you. You surely talk to him when you need some shoulder to lay on, about your worse days and he's cautious enough to notice when you're exhausted. But he's never seen you at your breaking point, starting to believe you don't have any. Yet you're here, in front of him, not even being able to speak properly. He can't help but feel kind of relieved at the whole situation knowing that your hard, protective shell cracked a little bit, letting him see something he's never seen in you before. Weakness.
"This might sting a bit," Minho informs you as he presses alcohol soaked paper to your wound. Whimper leaves your mouth at the unpleasant feeling and you hang your head down. He quickly wraps bandage around your hand and clasps it between his warm palms.
"Hey, you don't have to worry about that the hall. I'll take care of it, okay?" He tries to lower himself, kneeling in front of you, so he can get a better glimpse of your puffed face. You shake your head and straighten your back, looking at him with serious expression.
"No." You sniff, "No, I broke it, I broke something so important to you and it's my fault. I'll clean it. I'll buy you a new one, the same one, I promise Minho."
His hands make their way to your back, slowly, eyes remaining on you for any sign of discomfort. When you sneakily lean into the touch, Minho pulls your body entirely towards his, clasping your weak figure into his arms and sways you left and right, wanting to feel your muscles relax in his embrace.
"What's wrong, hm? My roommate senses are tingling," his voice muffles itself by pressing his mouth against your shoulder, "Talk to me, y/n, please?"
"I had the worst week ever here, without you."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
You just shake your head no, holding onto his waist tighter than ever. You feel him nod. His calm aura pulls you in completely, feeling like walking into hot building during snowy, cold winter. Your cheeks warm up, pressing right below his neck, his body warmth transferring itself to you.
"It's lowkey weird." You choke out, coughing right after because of how stuffed your poor throat felt.
"What is?"
"You comforting me while I'm sitting on a toilet seat."
You manage to let out throaty chuckle to light the atmosphere up, however, you can't help the warm stream of tears flowing right after.
"Want to move it to the livingroom?" Minho pulls out of the hug slightly, setting his gaze at your red face again and your eyes make their way to the floor. You still haven't looked him in the eyes, not even once, as you're scared of the wave of guilt that will follow. As if the one you're feeling right now isn't enough. You feel like a child scared to get shouted at by their parents.
Minho crouches down in front of you and you hum in question, brows furrowed. He only gestures with his hand for you to hop onto his back, already positioning your legs on his hips. You groan but don't protest, you know how Minho is and you know fighting him is hopeless. Wrapping your arms around his next securely and glueing your chest onto his back, you melt into the warmth of his body. He stands up, feeling your breath tickling the skin behind his ear and smiling to himself, noticing how it got much steadier than it was before. He leads both of you out the bathroom and again, the sad view of Minho's favourite vase on the floor, not really looking any similar to vase anymore, hits you, shoving another wave of guilt through your nerves. You close your eyes and rest your forehead on your roommate's shoulder.
"I'm truly, so, so sorry Minho. I never meant to do this, I was just trying to make the place look presentable for you and it ended like it always does." the words left your mouth as quiet squeak, taking another deep breath before speaking again; "Yet you still have to clean the mess I did, like you always do. I don't deserve it, I don't deserve you. I failed being your perfect roommate."
"Who said I wanted a perfect roommate?" he asks as you reach your shared couch, carefully laying you on it then sitting by your side, facing you. "You think I'm mad at you, but I'm not. I've broken like five vases in my life and none of this was anything I planned, just like you."
You finally find some strenght in yourself to raise your gaze and lock it at his round, dark eyes. And he's right, no matter how intensively you look into them, you can't find even a tiny bit of anger in them, they sparked with understanding and you find yourself feeling bad at even thinking someone this precious could get so mad at you. They were so pure you could see your ugly, messed up reflection in them. Before you could start thinking about this again, his eyes squinted a little bit as corners of Minho's lips curled upwards in the most beautiful, sincere, affectionate smile you've ever seen. You only realised that his hand was placed on your trembling knee when you felt his fingers caressing it softly, sending warm shiver through your whole body.
"What about the flowers? You loved them..." You turned around to take a glimpse of the mess once again but Minho quickly grabbed your chin with only pads of his fingers and made you look back at him. "I'll take over from here, you get rest now."
Just as he was about to stand up from the couch you grabbed him by his sleeve and almost agressively pulled him right into your arms, crashing in the tightest, breath taking hug as you truly couldn't believe you had him by your side. Just when you thought you crossed his boundaries by that sudden action and started to loose your grip on him, he dragged you right back to him like he was waiting for this moment to happen. His heart pressed to yours, he definitely could tell how fast and heavy its beating right now. Both of yours eyes closed, you just enjoyed this such intimate moment, very first one since you've moved in together. Neither you or him dare to make a move in fear of ruining this beautiful scene.
"Thank you," you murmur into his neck, so quietly you're not even sure he heard it. "only you can endure me as your roommate. How are you not tired of this?" Chuckle leaves your mouth but you quickly tone it out in case he responds, Well, I am actually tired.
"Because you're the only one that can endure me, too." He pulls out of the hug, though he doesn't move too far away, being so close to your face you could feel his minty breath on your nose. "I guess it's just the way things go."
Next thing your brain processes is his perfect lips landing on yours in swift motion. Suprisingly they're not rough, not even a little bit, they're so soft you barely feel them at first. Your heart goes up your throat for a mere second, dropping back down the moment he caress your cheek gently with his warm hand, now covered in the tiniest layer of sweat caused by the adrenaline. When your body finally understands what's going on, you lean into him completely, hand going up on the back of his head, tangling into his soft, dark hair and Minho takes is as a sign to continue, now pressing his lips onto yours with more force, making sure you feel them properly. A sigh of relief leaves both of your mouths and you smile into the kiss. When you eventually just slightly pull away from each other, faces still close, you notice new emotion making its way into his eyes, overtaking the rest as he studies every part of your face carefully. It's love. His eyes are full of love. Its so intense like it just have been freed from his chest after months of hiding in the deepest corners of his heart.
There's still so much you don't know about him and there's so much he doesn't know about you, but the gate has opened now and there's no turning back. You don't know what any of this means yet, but you can think of it tomorrow. Or in a month. Or in a year.
For now it's just you and him. And that's what matters the most in the world.
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dcxdpdabbles · 11 months
Text
DC xDP idea: Misplace Baby
Danny makes a mistake.
He was messing around in Clockwork's lair-specifically the one with all the various clocks- when he accidentally broke a glowing gold hourglass on himself. It was the size of a house, so as the sand practically drowned him, he didn't notice his body shrinking until he dug out of the shimmering sand.
Danny stumbles on chubby little legs, panicking when he notices his clothes are suddenly too big and his hands are tinny. He fumbles to one of the old grandfather clocks to check his reflection in the glass. A small three-year-old stares back at him.
Danny screams, pushing away from the old clock. His actions cause him to trip over the leg of his pants, and he falls. Just as he tries to catch himself, the clock starts to ding.
Danny briefly recognizes the old melody of a Westminster before the clock's glass case swings open, revealing a portal, and he falls through. He catches a glimpse of Clockwork with a hand on his forehead, shaking his head in the doorway as he falls.
His face is dragged against the carpet as the Westminster chime rings behind him in the otherwise silent room. Groaning at the burn on his nose and cheeks, Danny sits up.
He turns around, watching in horror as the portal closes.
"No! No, no, no!" He opens and closes the glass door, but all he sees is the slightly swinging pendulum. Repeats his actions again and again. "Clockwork! Help! Clockwork!"
His mentor does not answer, and Danny can't feel him in the air. Can't sense his new father figure's gentle control over the flow of time. If he's learned anything in the last year he's been working as his appearance, this means Clockwork isn't in charge of this timeline.
He's in a universe so far from his original that not even the god of Time is the same. Moby Dick, he's gone and goofed now.
"Who's there?" A voice demands, and Danny whips around to see a startled man in a suit. A fine black two-piece suit that looks more expensive than Danny's house and car. Oh no, a rich man.
The man's blue eyes soften when he sees Danny. "Hey there, chum. What are you doing in my study?"
Danny blinks up at him as the man walks closer. At the closeness, the halfa's body betrays him. He starts to sob. Strong, painful sobs that wreck his whole body, and he can't breathe from how much he's crying.
The man's arms are around him in seconds. "Oh, Chum, it's okay. You're okay."
He lifts him up, pressing his wet face against his neck as he pats Danny's little back. It is humiliating, but Danny can't help but cling to the strong shoulders and curl against the warm chest as he cries. His tears and snot are all over the man's suit, but he doesn't seem to care as he comforts Danny.
Eventually, he cries to sleep, tear-stained face still pressed against the stranger's neck and his little head leaning against a strong shoulder. The rich man carefully tilts his head to ensure the toddler is fast asleep.
Once confirmed, he takes the small boy to the guest rooms. He needs answers- who is the boy? Where did he come from? Is he the son of one of the Gala attendees? What had the boy been doing at the clock guarding the Batcave?- but he will find those later. Right now, he needs to tuck this small child into bed.
"Master Bruce, your guests are waiting for you to give the speech," Alfred says, catching him at the stairway. The butler's eyes zone in on the small child in Bruce's arms before nodding. "I shall inform Marster Dick to speak for you. Who may this young lad be?"
"I'm not sure. I just found him crying in the main study." Bruce tilts his head to the upper floors. "I'm going to tuck him in."
"I'm afraid I only prepared the room next to Master Damian in preparation for Master Jon's visit. Thankfully the lads would not be opposed to sharing a room for the night if I request it of them."
"Thank you, Alfred. I'll be down as soon as I-"
"Who's child is that!?" Jason demands, stomping his way up the stairs. He's missing his suit jacket, and there is a nasty red stain on the front of his white shirt. Likely he's come for a change after "accidentally" dumping it on himself to get away from the Gala.
The toddler's nose wrinkles, indicating his sleep may be interrupted. Quickly, Bruce pats his back, humming a lullaby before the child can wake. The boy settles after a small sigh. He gives Jason a warning glare that the young man has the decency to look remorseful.
"Jason," Bruce starts, voice hushed. "I found him in the main study. He looks distressed, but a few minutes ago, I got an alert that someone had gotten into the manor. When I followed the motion detectors, it led me to this little guy."
"A baby broke into the manner? That's hardcore." Jason replied, peering at the sleeping child only to gasp. "It's another mini-you!"
"No," Bruce tells him, but secretly he thinks the same when he first finds the little boy in the main study. He had already taken a lock of the boy's hair. Just, you know, in case.
"Nice try, old man." Jason pulls out his phone, his thumb flying over his screen. A soft ding comes from the pockets of Bruce and Alfred. He doesn't have to look to know his son has just told all his siblings about the child.
A series of dings follow shortly after.
Bruce sighs, choosing not to answer, nodding to Jason and Aldfed as he quickly goes up the stairs. At least Alfred delays Jason from following by scolding him over the red stain.
Once the boy is safely placed into the bed, he carefully changes him into a pair of Damian's smallest pjs. They are still far too big for the boy but better than the jeans and white shirt he wore. He's happy to find that besides the red on his face- it looks like carpet burn- and a small bruise on his knee, the boy is unharmed. He places a stuffed octopus in the toddler's arms- smiling as the little one automatically clings it to it - before rushing down to the Batcave.
There he runs the DNA tests just as he reviews the camera footage. There he catches the toddler walking out of the woods, pushing himself through a small gap in the metal fence and wandering around the manor until he finds an open window and crawls in.
The window was opened by one of his Gala guests taking a smoke break. Bruce felt a small annoyance that they didn't follow his "no-smoking" rule even when he had explained on multiple occasions it was due to Tim not having a spleen and being worried about his health. He'll have to blacklist that man.
The child had not gracefully fallen into the manor, and Bruce winced as the boy slammed against the carpet floor as tripped. It explains the marks on his face. The boy had then cried for a few minutes- his cries must have been drowned out by the music of the Gala- but then he must have realized that no one was coming for him, so the baby had gotten up and wandered through the house crying.
He had found himself in the main study, where a few minutes later, Bruce had seen him.
Rewinding the camera, Bruce's eyes narrowed at seeing a piece of paper pinned to the boy's clothes. It looked like it fell off when he crawled through the window. Checking on the DNA test, Bruce left the cave to look for the paper.
He found in the hands of Cass, whose eyes were going over the words with fascination. She looks up at him, unsurprised by his approach- no one could sneak up on Cass- and smiles widely. "Baby brother?"
"What?"
She hands him a letter. It's short and to the point; it claims to be an old fling that gave birth three years ago, but she doesn't want anything to do with the child. She's sending the boy to the manor and is out of the country by the time he arrives.
She leaves no name.
Bruce can't remember anyone with whom he had a fling three years ago, so he knows it's a lie. Still, he would rather not find her if the child was abandoned like this. He's not sure he wouldn't break all her bones.
"I don't think he's mine," Bruce tells Cass. She tilts her head with a frown, staring at him with a soft glare until he sighs. "But I won't mind keeping him."
She beams.
The two make their way to the Batcave and find Dick already there. He's staring at the screen displaying the DNA results with a stupefied expression.
"Chum?" Bruce asks, but Dick doesn't respond. He only gapes at the screen. Cass skips next to him before she, too, freezes, and Bruce is slightly worried about what he will find.
There is a match between the boy and someone in the manner alright. But it's not with Bruce.
It's a match with Dick.
"Holy rapid-ranging ravens, I'm a father." Dick gasps.
Clockwork runs his fingers through his idiotic son's hair three floors above them. Kronos stands guard at the door, arms cross as he watches the visiting time god carefully whip the dimension travelers' memories.
Kronos is in charge of this universe timeline, but when he was approached by Clockwork asking for a favor, well, it was not hard to shift some events and make Danny a legit background.
He was now the son of Dick Grayson and Stacy Quinell. One was a boy who had been born in a circus but was forced to leave it after the death of his parents. When life got too rough, the boy would join the circus for short trips under the name Dan Danger.
The other was a girl whose parents were so determined to control every aspect of her life and were going to force her to marry a man twice her age she left home at sixteen.
She joined a traveling circus-Haley Circus- where she had a fling with Dan Danger. The night Dan was meant to go, she had seen him without his mask and learned it to be Dick Grayson.
Upon discovering her pregnancy, Stacy feared being kicked out of the circus, so she took a short break, gave birth to the boy, and kept him until he was three, thus demeaning him old enough to be without his mother.
She took him as close as she could to Wayne Manor and left. She intended to return to Haly's Circus, unaware of the fate that waited for her. Unaware of the Cout that needed new talons.
"Are you sure about this?" Kronos asks, "I'm all for discipline, but having the boy forget everything about himself for going into the timeline room?"
"It's not a punishment," Clockwork says. "It's a gift. Danny had lost so much when his parents learned the truth. His sister died trying to get him out of the house. His best friends were crippled when trying to hide him. His town was blown to pieces when his parents decided that no one in Amity Park could have a family if they could not have their children. Danny had spent years wishing to forget but mostly wishing to be a normal child. I will forever be grateful if a lifetime here grants him that."
Kronos frowns. "You have no power here. You do not know what awaits him."
"True, I know not of the trials and tribulations Danny will face, but I know you do. And you would not let anything happen to him, won't you." Clockwork looks at Kronos through his lashes and the other god of time swallows.
"Of course, my love. I will protect him. But unlike you, I can not get involved with mortals as easily. I will not be able to shield him."
"His new family will," Clockwork says, pressing his face against Danny's hair one last time to breathe him in. It will be a lifetime before he can hold his son. "The bats have faced worst odds."
Kronos tilts his head in agreement. "They have rewritten fate on numerous occasions. Even the Flashes have only been able to overturn fate but never truly go against it."
"The Court of Owls?"
"Danny will deal with them in time. His new mother is on her way to becoming a Telon. He will erase them from the timeline once he learns what they have done to her." Krono answers, eyes glowing as events of the future play before him. He watches a glowing figure battle against the king of the dead, his white hair shining brightly. "He seems to take the throne from the king of dead even here. Remarkable."
"My son is the most remarkable being around," Clockwork says proudly. He flouts from the bed, leaving behind a child with only memories of three years and a few false imprinted glimpses of the circus trailer his mother hid him in. He presses a kiss against Krono's lips. "I find myself wishing for another child. Will you assist me with that love?"
Kronos snaps them out of existence just as Danny opens his eyes and feels a small loss. It's quickly forgotten as his new father runs into the room to gasp. "Hey there, buddy, do you know who I am?"
Danny Grayson is introduced to his uncles and aunts later that night. He also meets John Jones and his niece Megan Morse who ask him a few questions about his past. Danny gets a funny feeling around them, as if someone was running their fingers through his hair but inside his head.
Thankfully they find everything to be alright.
And a new generation is born.
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cryptidghostgirl · 4 months
Note
-Alastor x spouse!gn!reader:
Alastor and his Spouse had been together ever since they were alive and his spouse had always been his right hand in life and death. Just giving a helping hand if Alastor needed it, watching proudly as he became a powerful overlord. But then Alastor disappeared and no one knew where he had gone to, not even his beloved spouse. After a year or so of searching and waiting for their husband to come back, they accepted that he was gone and went on to become an overlord themselves, getting some tips from Rosie here and there. After a while they became isolated, only ever going out to gossip with Rosie or attend meetings with the other overlords. And they were never really a fan of the media or technology either. Only ever listening to their husbands radio, sometimes even joining in. So they weren’t aware of their husbands return, only seeing him for the first time in 7 years at one of the meetings with the other overlords. And they were pissed.
Sorry, that was really long.. my bad :[
Also, no pressure if you don’t want to go write this <3
A/N okay one, don’t apologize. Two, this ask is awesome. Three, I hope what I’ve done with it makes you happy :)
Wrath (Alastor x Overlord!Spouse!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Gn!Reader
Warnings: Tame as heck for the most part, ngl.
Word Count: 1,820
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Y/n had never known life without Alastor. They had grown up together, shared a wild childhood in the back streets of New Orleans. Nothing can ever beat that type of love and so, when they were fifteen and terrified and he asked them on their first date, how could they say no?
One date turned into two and before either really had time to sit back and take stock of their lives, they were twenty and married. Alastor had a budding career as a radio host and Y/n found a simple joy in the life of a house-partner. Things had been happy, they had been good.
The pair had always been inseparable, attached at the hip. That first night Alastor had come home, eyes wide and suit soaked in blood? Y/n had handed him a damp towel. Even their entrance into death had been together, shot by a hunter while burying a body.
It had been a joy to watch him grow and change, to witness the way their husband built a life for them in the world of the living and nothing changed that when they entered Hell. They were his right hand, his everything. That was why it hurt so much when he disappeared one day without a trace.
Alastor had never done that before, not tell them what was going on. He'd been gone for days, weeks at a time on rare occasions, tracking some demon he was intent on killing or the like. This was different. They always talked before hand, he always made sure Y/n was safe and set up with their mutual friend Rosie for their protection. This time, there hadn't even been a note.
In tears, Y/n had wandered their way into Cannibal Town. Rosie's smile had slipped from her face upon welcoming them into the little shop she ran, quickly ushering the demon into the back room. Y/n, while they had been a right hand in their first life and this one, had never been an active part in Alastor's work. Sure, they leant a hand if he needed one, but the occasion he did was rare and most of them helping him was through making sure he had a hot meal to come home to and a loving environment to exist in. They had never had a life without him in it and refused to believe they were entering into one now.
The first weeks were rough. Y/n stayed with Rosie, in the same guest room they always did but, they barley left it. When Rosie suggested they start looking for her lost partner, Y/n had jumped up. It was a shred of hope, something to hold onto.
A year of searching went by. Rosie tried, did everything in her power to keep Y/n happy and hopeful, to keep her safe. Time is the cruelest master of all and not even Rosie could stop the doubt it brought to her friend.
"I can't do this anymore, Rose." Y/n admitted one day as they drank their coffee, "I... He's not coming back."
"You don't know that!" Rosie had insisted, grasping Y/n's hands across the table.
"We've been looking for a year. There hasn't been the slightest bit of evidence. I... I can't do it anymore. I have to move on."
And move on they did. With their husband gone, there were empty shoes to be filled among the overlords of Hell and who better to fill them than Y/n? They worked hard, training. They grew strong and it payed off at last when two and a half years after their husband's disappearance, Y/n managed to take down an overlord, officially indoctrinating them into their ranks.
The more time went on, the more feared of a figure they became. Y/n had hoped it would have been a distraction, carrying on Alastor's legacy. The loneliness ate away at them. He had always been there, and now he was suddenly gone. The more powerful they became, the more they retreated into themselves. They became a rumor, a name whispered behind closed doors.
Y/n still held out a spark of hope that one day, Alastor would return. As they hit the seven year line since his disappearance, that too fizzled out. Things were getting bad in Hell, the last extermination had been the most brutal in history. Just the other day, word had come in that Heaven wasn't even going to wait their normal year before the next one, only a meager six months. Even with Y/n's aversion to all things media, they were only a painful reminder of what they had lost, after all, they managed to hear about it. It was a big deal, and a terrifying one too.
Of course, in response to this, Carmilla had called a meeting. When Carmilla Carmine called a meeting, there wasn't an overlord in all of Hell who wasn't going to show up. It was serious, she meant buisness.
Y/n had dragged themselves out of the place that had become their home over the past seven years. One of the first things they had taught themselves how to do was to travel through shadows, the way their husband had. With a snap of their fingers, the shadows took them, spitting them back out in the waiting room of Carmilla's offices.
Looking around, Y/n caught sight of Rosie and approached their oldest friend.
"Hey, Rose." they hummed placidly.
"Oh! Y/n! What a pleasure to see you here." she smiled back, turning to face them, "I half expected you wouldn't show."
"You know me." Y/n shrugged, "I come when it's important."
"I'm worried about you." Rosie admitted after a moment, her smile faltering slightly, "You've been spotted out and about less and less."
"I'm fine, I promise." Y/n weakly reassured, "I'm drinking water and touching grass or whatever. I just... socializing isn't super my thing anymore."
"Yes but, you're putting a target on your back doing that." Rosie insisted, "People are going to start wondering, start questioning your power and authority. You should at least go rough someone up, or start a business! Establish your presence."
"Don't worry, Rose." Y/n smiled, their mouth full of razor sharp fangs, "Let 'em come. I can take care of myself now."
"That you can." she relented.
Y/n turned, surveying the room which held a handful of Hell's other top overlords. They recognized a couple, but there were a few they didn't know. They let out a sigh, eyes turning to the elevator doors as they slid open to reveal Zestial.
Y/n raised their hand, intending to wave a greeting to the oldest and most respected of their group as he entered the room, but froze. Their hand at chest level, their eyes went wide as they caught sight of a familiar shock of red hair.
"Fucking... Al?" they whispered, their arm falling to their side as they took half a step forward.
"What did you say?" Rosie asked.
It sounded like her voice was coming from somewhere underwater, the world was spinning.
"What's the matter?" Rosie asked, following the path of Y/n's gaze.
As her eyes landed on Alastor, standing clear as day at the other end of the room and casually conversing with Zestial, she gasped lightly.
"Oh my."
"I'll be back in a second, Rose." Y/n hissed through clenched teeth, their hands balled into tight fists.
With fluid, silent footfalls, they stormed across the room and came to a stop beside Alastor. The room fell silent at the sight. They all knew of the pair's story, had heard from Rosie about how long and how hard Y/n had searched for their husband. Hearing the silence, Alastor turned, his eyes locking with Y/n's.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, placing a hand gently on the top of their head, "How have you been, darling? Zestial was just telling me about what great strides you-"
Y/n harshly took his hand from their head, the strength with which they held his wrist cutting Alastor off. They took a step forward, now just an inch away from Alastor as they glared up at him. Fury coursed through their veins as he watched them in mild confusion.
"Seven years." Y/n scoffed.
Alastor made no reply, simply continuing to watch his spouse as they practically frothed at the mouth.
"Seven fucking years." they repeated, releasing the grip on his wrist.
"I'm here now."
The slap echoed through the silence like the crack of a whip. Alastor stumbled back to slightest bit, his hand raised to his cheek.
"You..." Y/n took a deep breath, trying to calm themselves, "Al, where the fuck were you? How... how long have you been back?"
"A few days." he admitted.
Y/n's eyes widened as they processed the information.
"A... a few days?" they scoffed, "A few days? You know what? You didn't tell me when you left, why should I have expected you'd tell me you were back."
Y/n turned away from him, rubbing their forehead in irritation. Alastor hesitated before taking a step forward, placing a hand gently on their shoulder.
"Lov-"
"What?" Y/n spat, spinning back around to face him.
Their teeth were sharp, elongated and dripping. Tears welled in their eyes. Alastor's breath caught in his chest.
"Fucking what?!"
"Please, let me make it up to you." his voice was soft and gentle, the same one he used when they were alone together.
"I..." Y/n took another deep breath, "I don't know if you can."
Tears were streaming down their cheeks now, falling thick and fast. Their body glitched, half transformed into their full demon state and half staying as their more human public face. It pained him to see. If he had had any other choice, he would have done something different. He had never wanted to hurt them. Alastor reached out, grabbing their hands in his.
"Please, let me try."
"Why should I!" Y/n screamed back at him, pulling their hands out of his reach, "Seven years! Seven fucking years! You promised me. You promised me we'd stick together."
The grief seemed to be winning in its battle over the anger as the glitches slowed. Their teeth shrunk back to normal and their voice faded, becoming softer, weaker.
"I'll explain everything just please, please give me a chance."
Y/n sighed. Lifting their hands to their face, they pressed their palms into their eyes. They stood like that for a moment, unmoving and silent. Alastor waited, tense with anticipation. At last, they looked up at him once again, their arms falling loosely to their sides.
"Fine." they sharply stated and Alastor's smile grew, "After the meeting. You get as much time as it takes me to drink a cup of coffee. Deal?"
"Deal."
----
A/N ngl I wasn't super sure how to end this fic but I really like it and this was such a fun request to write. I love and angry reader.
1K notes · View notes
slutforln4 · 2 months
Text
IN LOVE, IN ITALY.
🖇️ charles leclerc x painter reader
🖇️ in which, instagram is the diary for a fairytale love between a racer, a painter and their life in italy.
🖇️authors note: thank you to the lovely anon that submitted this request <3 hope you enjoy!!
࿐ ࿔*:・゚
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, landonorris and 376,937 others
yourusername i ❤️ summers in italy and my boy
comments
user1 PARENTSSSS
user2 i need a love like theirs
charles_leclerc why did i come second on the list of things you love 💔
yourusername i've loved you for three summers, my love, out of the twenty five i've lived. and i'll love you for many more.
user3 stop it rn i didn't need to see that today
user4 brb jumping
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, carlossainz55 and 637,928 others
charles_leclerc i'm being held at gunpoint to post myself during summer break
comments
yourusername and i'll do it again 🔫
user5 let's all thank y/n for feeding us with charl content
user6 thank you y/n
user7 thanks y/n!!
user8 thank you mother
yourusername ur welcome, my loves x
landonorris never seen a man so happy to be on break
yourusername shade
landonorris was it that obvious?
charles_leclerc i love my job?
charles_leclerc !*
user9 ferrari has him locked up LMFAO
user10 bro can't even drive a car unless it's ferrari or he's cooked
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, arthur_leclerc and 436,937 others
yourusername lemons, anyone? 🍋
comments
user11 what the fuck is that stance, charles...
charles_leclerc helps me catch fish
user12 i've never seen anyone paint lemons so realistically, how long did it take?
yourusername eight hours! i've mastered the craft of losing sleep and cramping fingers
user13 spare me some talent i beg
user14 i wonder if she's ever painted charles lol
landonorris paint me a papaya next
yourusername on it
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, carlossainz55 and 837,948 others
charles_leclerc she doesn't always paint
comments
user15 red is her colour!
user16 she looks so cute in the helmet lol
user17 who won karting
yourusername me obvs
landonorris i did tho?
yourusername lando nowins suggests otherwise
user18 LMFAO
user19 why is she cooking lando omfg
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, landonorris and 736,937 others
yourusername and he doesn't always race
comments
user20 wait the matching captions i'm emotional
user21 my actual parents
landonorris i hope whatever he was painting on the canvas was better than those eels on your back
yourusername it wasn't but it's the thought that counts
charles_leclerc hey :(
yourusername mi dispiace amore mio
user22 they're adorable i'm sobbing
yourusername
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liked by arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, landonorris and 836,937 others
yourusername new beginnings
comments
user23 NEW BEGINNINGS??
user24 don't tell me they broke up
user25 i'm ending myself if they broke up
user26 no? no. nope nuh uh
user27 WHY IS CHARLES NOT IN THE LIKES
user28 we're done for
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, landonorris and 2,923,782 others
charles_leclerc guess what
comments
user29 OH MY GOD?????????/
user30 no fucking way
yourusername yours for eternity 🤍
charles_leclerc i wouldn't have it any other way
landonorris congratulations to my fav cringe couple
carlossainz55 congrats
georgerussell63 Congratulations from Carmen and I
lewishamilton congratulations 💐🤍
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, carlossainz55 and 1,436,837 others
yourusername opened up a gallery in my fiancés name. come visit in maranello, italy 💌
comments
user31 i'm??? sobbing???
user32 i went there on opening day and half of her work mentions charles in the descriptions 😭 my fav one: "took a picture of the sunset after charles and i first kissed. it's been three years since and kissing him still feels like looking at this sunset."
user33 STOP????
user34 one of the paintings is literally called charles and it's a cluster of her and his birth month flowers.
charles_leclerc you never fail to make me fall even more in love with you. je t'aime chéri ❤️
yourusername ti amo di più tesoro 🤍
the end.
794 notes · View notes
octuscle · 3 months
Text
From tutor to rookie of the year
Hi, my name is Jake. My company has hired me to tutor a few students with poor grades. That's not necessarily the reason why I started working at the auditing company. But first of all, I'm new here and I'm not going to refuse right at the beginning of my career. And secondly, becoming a teacher had actually been an option for me. Maybe it's fate now or something.
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The first lesson gets off to a very promising start. I almost have to tear myself apart to leave your office and get to school on time. But when I arrive, there is a yawning emptiness in the classroom. Only after fifteen minutes I hear noise in the corridor and a couple of football jocks barge in the door. A few still in football gear. And all obviously unshowered after training. Phew, it stinks. And as I look into the handsome, square-cut faces of the boys spraying with testosterone, I'm suddenly back at school. The small, clever but shy boy who, at best, the stars of the football team overlook and, at worst, stuff into the toilet. I clear my throat and say that I'm not here for fun either and that I'm asking for some attention. The boys barely react. Damn it, it's not my problem. I explain a few linear algebra problems on the blackboard and ignore the paper airplanes. I have my school-leaving certificate. I have my master's degree. And my bonus doesn't depend on the grades of these idiots. At least I hope so.
After the debacle of the first tutoring session, my appetite for the second is very dampened. But it was already hard enough to get this internship. The firm is one of the most prestigious accountancy firms in the city. And if my pro bono job as an intern is tutoring the idiots on the football team twice a week, I'll survive. Apart from the 60 hours a week in which I have to pore over balance sheets, that doesn't matter any more.
These days, the musclemen are even on time. And somehow nicer than last time. They even ask me reasonably sensible questions like whether you can predict the trajectories of footballs. I take this as an opportunity to tell them something about vector calculus. They collapse with laughter. "Bro, I was joking. And football isn't math. Football is strength and speed." I'm about to take a breath and say something about Newton and the relationship between force and speed. But instead of listening to me, the jocks start bragging to each other about their heroic stories on the field. And I can't help but listen to them spellbound. When the lesson is over, I look after them with fascination. I wish I could have been more like them at school.
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Shit, because I'm the only nerd on the senior team who isn't a complete failure at sports, Coach made me give math tutoring to the football team. He thinks the Meatheads might have a little bit of respect for me. Shit! Them for me? I for them might be more correct! The thought of explaining math to my secret crush forms a wet spot in my Calvin Klein shorts.
I expected the boys to keep me waiting. If they were also punctual and disciplined off the pitch, they wouldn't need any help. And I don't want to tutor them any more than they want to be tutored. We reach a compromise. You listen to my math tutoring for half an hour. And then we'll go out onto the pitch for half an hour and play a bit of football. God knows I'm not unsportsmanlike. But soccer has somehow never been my sport. I'm more of a swimming pool or gym kind of guy. Team sports? Not really.
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Shit, yeah, I'm no rocket scientist in math. But I have quite good grades in English and history. I'm not going to fail this year. Why the fuck do I have to go to tutoring with the other bros from the football team? I have no idea. But seriously, the tutor is a total loser. A beanpole in a stuffy shirt. The idiot even wears a tie. Seriously, who wears a tie these days? If I had to wear a tie, I'd change jobs. Or if I had to shower after training. Shit, these are just rules that can come from old fat men. Bros like me and my bros smell like test… Testo… Well that hormone stuff. Sweat, musk and Axe. If I didn't have to go straight to detention again, I'd let the loser smell my armpits… But I'm a sophomore on the team right now. Let the juniors and seniors do that.
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"Jack, bro!" This is Chuck. The QB on the team. I can tell by his voice. And by his smell. And I'd also know it by the taste of his cheesy boner…. But he stays locked in his jockstrap cage right now. What a damn shame! "Bro, where were you in tutoring? The dean was there. You're in fucking trouble!" Shit, tutoring! I was at the gym. The other guys are all so pumped. I don't want to lag behind any longer. "Shit, dude, we said you were in the bathroom. The loser tutor didn't dare contradict us. But I think you have to let him suck you off so he doesn't tell on you." Hehehehehe, I like that idea. There are still 40 minutes until football practice… And I haven't cum yet today. "Is the loser still in the classroom?" I ask. Chuck nods. I fist bump him and say that I'll sort it out quickly.
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If Chuck and Matt go to college next year, I have a good chance to be the QB. But until then I still have to build up a lot of mass. Those two are just in a whole different league. And I'm damn jealous of the hair on Matt's chest. You should see the bush under his arms. Dude, the man is going to be a fucking gorilla! Shit, I'm not half the man those two are. You can tell immediately by the size of the bulge in our compression shorts. Nevertheless, neither of them mind if I fuck them. But they like fucking me even more. Without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!
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We skipped tutoring again today. Coch covers for us while we're in the gym or doing our laps on the cinder track outside. Nevertheless, it's still up in the air whether Chuck and Matt will be at college next year. And whether I'll be a junior by then. But screw it, NFL pros don't need to know math.
572 notes · View notes
berberriescorner · 9 months
Note
pregnant sexs w rio
I had to sit and think of which direction I wanted to take this in. Whew, chileee! Way too many scenarios are playing in my mind. This man😩😍!
I'm going to keep it a stack with y'all. This turned into a whole-ass fic.
Sit back, buckle up, and prep yourself for the trip my imagination's about to take you on♥️. Love, comments, and reblogs are appreciated, lovelies💞.
A/N: Sexual frustration and prolonged foreplay ahead. If that's not your vibe. You may want to skip out on this one. A couple of twists and flips here and there. I hope you lovelies enjoy what I did with this♥️. Just a heads up, I really got into this one, so it's going to be pretty lengthy. Worked on it for a while. Even made a damn mood board...I couldn't resist.
One More Note: A polite, gentle reminder that I don't usually take requests. If you float something in my ask that I just can't resist. I will give in here and there. In other words, if you don't get a response, please don't take it personally.
If you missed any other ask about dad!rio or hubby!rio, they're all listed on my Masterlist under Rio Asks/Headcanons (in order). Enjoy my lovelies! Feel free to love, comment, and share🥰.
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Song Inspo💜:
"Let's Go Little Kitty-Kat"
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Livid. Irritable. Restless. Each one of these words perfectly describes your current mood. The kids had begged to spend their spring break with Rio’s grandmother. Marcus was spending his time off with her, and his siblings loved to follow big brother’s every move. You weren’t surprised that they wanted to be wherever he was. It didn’t hurt that their great-grandmother spoiled them rotten and gave them whatever their hearts desired. Even your sweet baby boy left his momma in the dust. That wasn’t the reason for your foul mood (though being in this big, empty house didn’t help).
You were angrily resting on the couch, a permanent pout etched on your face. You huffed loudly as your husband’s voice sounded on the other end of the phone call.
“So, you’re not going to say anything?”
 Silence.
“Mama,” he sighed. 
You were willing to bet any amount of money that Rio’s hand was running down his face right now. Were you overreacting? Possibly. Maybe even being a bit unreasonable? Probably so. Did you give a damn? Not at all. Blame it on the hormones.
“Let me make sure I’ve got this right. You’re pissed off–again? That’s two days in a row, mama. I’ve still yet to figure out the reason behind yesterday's bad attitude. Normally, I don’t let that shit slide, but I understand you’re emo-.”
“Call me emotional one more time, Rio.”
“And you’re going to do what, darlin’,” he questioned, voice laced with a hint of warning. Rio chuckled sarcastically, “I got a lot going on right now. Call me back when you’re ready to talk like an adult. Ready to get back on your grown woman shit.”
“Whatever, Christopher. You called me. Nobody wanted to talk to your dusty ass anyway. Get off my line,” with that, you both hung up on one another, more irritated than before the call.
You knew your behavior was coming off as petty, but too much pent-up frustration kept you from acting like a rational human being. You rolled your eyes so hard they nearly got stuck as you recalled yesterday's events.
You lay awake in bed, your body vibrating with lust. The day had dragged by slowly as your need for Rio grew more and more. You changed positions so many times your head scarf came undone.
“If I can just manage to wait up at least another hour. Maybe Rio will get here soon enough to put my ass to bed.”
Nope. The tiny human growing in your womb pulled you into a deep slumber. 
By the time Rio reached the threshold of your master bedroom. You were snuggled deep into the covers with pillows surrounding you. His shoulders lowered with a hint of disappointment. Rio knew you wanted him home, even if you hadn't said the words aloud. He could sense the attitude and frustration in your voice when he called to tell you not to wait up. Rio had tried his hardest to get home hours ago, but with every attempt at leaving came more matters that required his attention. He lowered himself to your sleeping form. Adjusting your scarf so it wouldn’t slip off, Rio softly pecked your nose and cheek. After a quick shower, he carefully climbed into his side of the bed, gently pulling two of the many pillows from behind your back. It took some effort, but he managed to cuddle up to you and delicately pull you into him. You stirred for a few moments but quickly fell back into a deep sleep. Your husband watched, smirking at the light snores you released.
“Night, Mama. Love you,” he whispered, kissing your neck.
The following morning, you woke up. Still horny as hell. You rolled over to find his side of the bed empty. He had been there. Rio’s side of the bed looked slept in. Your head turned in the direction of your en suite. Not a peep sounded. He wasn’t in there.
Maybe he’s downstairs. I should fix him something before he heads out. Perhaps he could eat me for breakfast. These freaking pregnancy hormones are out of control. Every waking moment, I feel like swallowing this man whole. When I’m not hungry, I’m horny. When I’m not fiending for my husband, I want to eat everything in sight. Fucking Rio. The dick just doesn’t miss. He shoots the club up every.single.time.
You smiled at your small bump, rubbing soft circles at the sides. Honestly, you didn’t mind being pregnant for the fifth time, but for your sanity (and the kids), this would be your last. If Rio wanted more babies, he had better find a damn good surrogate. Mama’s tired.
Does this man not realize he’ll have to pay for three, possibly four, weddings? Who am I kidding? In his mind, Rio probably believes he’ll be able to chase off any and every potential love interest. He’s in for a rude awakening. My dad didn’t like his ass at first. I have a (legally) pistol-toting father as well. That didn’t stop shit. Now look at us: marriage and a gang of children.
Pregnancy turned you into an impatient woman. When you wanted something, there was no convincing you different. 
In your thoughts, the bedroom door crept open. Rio’s head peeked inside. He noticed you sitting on the side of the bed and stepped into the room. He swaggered over to you, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. His voice was low, and restlessness lingered in his tone.
“Morning, Mama. You sleep alright,” he asked as his fingers took hold of your chin, tilting your head back for a kiss. His rough, calloused fingers danced along your jawline, trailing low enough to graze the outside of your breast. He smiled as you gasped against his lips.
The kiss started sweet, turning into hunger in mere seconds. You tried tugging your husband down onto the bed. Rio pulled back, pecking your lips a few times, before standing upright, hand slowly stroking the inner part of your thigh. With just a few inches, he would've been dangerously close to where you wanted him most. 
“I had to come to kiss my beautiful wife before heading out. I need to slide, mama. I’ve got a lot on my plate today. It's going to be hectic, and shit might get active. I ordered you some breakfast. It’ll be here soon. I’ll probably get in late tonight. Don’t wait up for me. Make sure you and my baby get some rest. Love you,” he said, kissing you again.
“Love you too, Papa,” you exhaled.
You watched him leave and groaned with irritation. 
It would be two nights in a row that he’d be coming in late at night. That typically wouldn’t be an issue. You had grown used to it throughout the years. The only time it became a problem was when you were in your current state: knocked up, horny, and hormonal. It was just something that switched in your brain during these times. You wanted all Rio’s attention. The need to have him buried deep inside you was high, and you couldn’t quite get your fill of him.
Several attempts to distract yourself throughout the day had failed miserably. No matter what you did, your thoughts always redirected themselves back to Rio and sex. You made one last effort to ignore the constant need to devour your husband. Turning Apple Music on shuffle, you opened a magazine and thumbed through it. Unfortunately, the universe wasn't on your side. Every song was more explicit than the previous one. A frustrated sigh fell from your lips as you shut the music off.
Enough is enough. Hubby won’t come to me, but rest assured I can go to him.
You padded to your bedroom closet, looking for a sexy little number. Slipping on a pair of Steve Madden heels, you snatched up your car keys. You set forth on a journey to Rio. Bringing him lunch would be your excuse for showing up unannounced. That reason, however, wasn't enough to prevent the lecture you received from an overprotective husband, Rio. As if that wasn’t enough, you also caught shit from your meddlesome bodyguard/homie, Mick. He escorted you into the warehouse when you arrived.
“Boss lady, you know you’re not supposed to be here,” he instigated.
“Mick, hush. I can bring my husband some lunch. Chill on me.”
“Alright, but you already know. The boss won’t be happy you're out, running around for him.”
“I went to get him some takeout. I didn’t even get out of the car. It was a curbside pickup.”
You were about to continue the debate when Rio’s voice sounded behind you.
“Mama.”
How could one little word send your body into a frenzy? You could sense both curiosity and a little anger in his tone. Mick stood there smirking at you. He knew what was about to go down. It was one thing for you to be out and about with no security detail. That was enough to put you in hot water. The fact that you were pregnant pushed his disappointment to another level.
“Mick, that thing we were about to take care of? Start without me. I need a few moments with my wife.”
He nodded in agreement, giving you a ‘good luck’ smirk on his way out. You turned your attention to Rio after the door closed. His jaw ticked as he shook his head in disbelief.
“What did I tell you about leaving the house with no security detail? You’re supposed to be at home relaxing. What are you even doing out and about? I specifically told you I’d be busy today. You know that’s code for business dealings. Your ass shouldn’t be anywhere near this warehouse right now.”
“I just wanted to bring you lunch, Papa. I needed to see that handsome face,” you replied in your best baby voice.
“Nah, that little voice and smile ain’t cutting it right now. Why are you so damn hardheaded?”
Now you were starting to get a little pissed. It was understandable that Rio was always concerned for your safety, but what choice did you have? Several, you had several. It just couldn’t wait. Yes, you were slightly irritated by his reaction, but the ache in your core grew even more being in his presence. The scent of his cologne wafted through the air. With just one sniff, you could feel your nipples harden.
These hormones are so out of control. I need this man to wreck my shit. The sooner, the better.
Taking a deep breath, you attempted to plead your case.
“But baby-”
“Listen. I’m too busy to have this argument with you right now.”
Rio closed the distance between you and placed his hands on either side of your face. He angrily sighed and pecked your lips.
“I appreciate the gesture, Mama, but please listen to me next time.”
You bit your lip, looking at him apologetically. Snaking your arms around his body, you allowed him to engulf you in a hug. Wrapped tightly in his embrace, Rio caught you off guard, giving you a hard swat on the bottom. His voice was low and gravelly as he growled, “You're trouble, Mama.”
You moaned, pushing your backside deeper into his palms. Eyes drifted shut as you stood on your tiptoes and puckered your lips for a kiss. Rio’s hands caressed the soft, plush globes as his breath fanned your lips. He denied your request for a kiss. Instead, his lips ghosted your neck, and his mouth traveled to your ear. Nipping at your lobe, he rasped, “Sorry, mama. We don’t have time for that. I have to go handle business.”
He pulled away, smirking at the frown that quickly shifted to a pout.
“We can’t spend just a few more minutes together?”
“Don’t do that, ma. You know this is important. Since you’re already out and ignoring my demands, why don’t you spend some time with your best friend? Here, take my card. Lunch is on me.”
This man is so preoccupied with business. He doesn’t even see that I came here to give him a piece of pussy. For some reason, that irritates the hell out of me. Usually, he can read my body like a book. I see where his priorities are at the moment. Business must trump his pregnant wife’s needs. I gave this man four and a half babies, and this is the thanks I get? Let me take my pregnant, horny, irritated tail home. His ass is sleeping on the couch tonight, and I don’t give one fuck that I’m being irrational.
“Nah, I’m good,” you waved your hand dismissively.
Sensing attitude, Rio tilted his head back, giving you a look of incredulity.
“Look, I ain't got time for the dramatics right now. I told you I would be busy. Go home, mama. We can discuss this in the privacy of our home.”
Cocking your head to the side, you gave him an irritated glare. A rush of pregnancy hormones came hurtling towards you. Snatching your handbag and keys from his desk, you stormed out of the room. Rio knew he struck a nerve and possibly hurt your feelings. Stepping into the hall, he called after you. Ignoring him, you stomped out of the building. With an exasperated sigh, your husband ran his hands over his face. Taking a deep breath did little to soothe the irritation that started festering inside him. It also didn’t help that the idiots working the warehouse floor were ogling your behind as you angrily switched out of the building.
“Y’all got a death wish or something? Fuck you looking at,” Rio barked towards the group of men.
“I suggest you get back to work before I unload the clip in this bitch,” he boomed, walking back into his office to cool down before heading to the meeting.
“She’s almost to her car. Hurry up! Follow her. Keep a watchful eye over her. She’s in her feelings. Make sure my wife and child make it home safe,” he ordered one of his men.
Her ass is out here walking around in those tight-ass jeans. We’re about to have a heated exchange when I get home. Out here showing out. She’s over here pressing on my last nerve and still making me want to put her on her back at the same damn time. Thick-ass. Feisty-ass. Sexy-ass. Spoiled-ass. Hormonal-ass woman.
Rio’s detail only served to anger you more. Pulling into your driveway, you flung the car door open, grabbed your stuff, and turned toward the henchman.
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter. Either wait out here or take your ass back to the warehouse.”
Not waiting for a response, you went into your home. Setting the alarm, you settled in for a quiet, lonesome evening. You had hoped a nice relaxing shower, comfy PJs, and stuffing your face would put you in a better mood. It could have worked, but your husband kept blowing up your phone.
Annoyed by the fourth call, you answered icily, “What can I do for you, dear?”
Rio could hear the sarcasm in your voice. “This what we on tonight?”
“Why, whatever do you mean, husband?”
“Cut the shit, mama. Why are you ignoring my calls?”
“You were oh so busy. I’d imagine that ignoring you would give you more time to concentrate on business, sweetie.”
“You petty as fuck. Stop being mean, mama.”
His mini flirtations went ignored.
This man hasn’t seen petty yet. Watch me work, Daddy.
“What can I do for you, Christopher?”
“Oh, are we using government names now? Bet. Why are you being stubborn?”
Silence.
“So, you’re not going to say anything?”
 Silence.
 “Mama,” he sighed. 
“Let me make sure I’ve got this right. You’re pissed off–again? That’s two days in a row, mama. I’ve still yet to figure out the reason behind yesterday's bad attitude. Normally, I don’t let that shit slide, but I understand you’re emo-.”
“Call me emotional one more time, Rio.”
“And you’re going to do what, darlin’,” he questioned, voice laced with a hint of warning. Rio chuckled sarcastically, “I got a lot going on right now. Call me back when you’re ready to talk like an adult. Ready to get back on your grown woman shit.”
“Whatever, Christopher. You called me. Nobody wanted to talk to your dusty ass anyway. Get off my line,” with that, you both hung up on one another, more irritated than before the call.
Hours later, you came down from your mood swing. Guilt slowly started to seep into you. Not one to give in and apologize first, you decided it was the right thing to do. Unlocking your phone, you sent a request for FaceTime. It rang twice before being denied.
He’s probably busy. I’ll try again in an hour or so.
The next time you tried his cell, you called. It rang several times before going to voicemail. Waiting another hour, you tried again. Ringing once, it went to voicemail.
Now, wait a fuckin’ minute. One ring means he hit the “f you button.” See, now a bitch is starting to get mad again. Woosah. Fight them mood swings, girl. Fight them!
Just as you had calmed your nerves, a text came through.
Husbaeee (Papa)🥰😈👅💦: You and the baby good?
Wifey (Mama)🌎💍: Yes, we’re fine. Why haven’t you called me back? Are you okay?
Husbaeee (Papa)🥰😈👅💦: I’m busy, remember? You didn’t feel like talking earlier? Why are you so chatty all of a sudden?
His petty ass.
Wifey (Mama)🌎💍: Stop making it hard to tell you sorry, Papa. Chill on me.
Husbaeee (Papa)🥰😈👅💦: Keep your sorry, ma. I’m cool on that. See you when I get home.
Oh, okay! It’s just, ma, now? Bet.
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Rio smiled to himself. He purposefully pissed you off again. Part of him did it out of payback, but his main objective was getting you frustrated. If it had done the trick. You would be ripping his clothes off and begging to be fucked once he made it home.
Not one to tell a man where he can and cannot go in his own home. You decided against telling Rio to sleep on the couch. However, the need to be petty was vibrating heavily in your bones. You fought sleep as long as you could, hoping to wait up for him long enough to ignore him for a bit. The baby again had other plans and lulled you into a deep sleep.
Rio braced himself for whatever you had planned to throw his way. He smirked to himself, releasing a low chuckle before exiting the car. Dragging his tired body into the house, your husband entered the code into the security system. Resetting it, he headed in the direction of the bar. He filled a tumbler with two fingers of bourbon. Tossing it back, Rio let the warm liquid flow through his chest. He rinsed the glass, set it in the dishwasher, and headed upstairs. 
Her moody ass is probably sleeping.
Attempting not to wake you, he quietly padded up the stairs. Rio unbuttoned the first couple of buttons on his shirt as he walked toward your shared bedroom. He nearly made it there but stopped in his tracks. The look on his face turned stone cold, and he slowly turned his head to peer into the guest bedroom.
What the fuck is this shit?
There you were, the door cracked, and lights dimmed just enough for him to see you tucked in tight, slumbering peacefully. Your plan to ignore him may have fallen through, but you still managed to be petty even in your sleep.
You jolted awake, feeling arms slip under your frame and pull you up from the mattress. Moments went by as you willed your eyes to wake fully. Your sight focused on Rio’s angered expression, and you pushed at his chest.
“What the hell are you doing? Put me down, Christopher!”
He ignored you. Rio’s jaw ticking as he took long strides exiting the guest room. He carried you into your bedroom, laid you in bed, tucking you in. You started to explain that you were a grown-ass woman and could sleep anywhere you damn well pleased. The look in his eyes forced you to think better of it.
“I don’t give a fuck how angry you are! Your ass will sleep in this bed regardless. Go to bed mad if you want to. Your stubborn ass is going to do it lying next to me. No room for debate, mama. You mad at me? You don’t want to be near me right now? That’s all good, but you sleep in our bed. Roll to the edge of the bed. That's all the space you're getting.”
Rio snatched his shirt over his head and threw it into the clothes hamper. You did your best to bite back any more snarky responses as you watched Rio stalk to the bathroom. The door flew shut, and you mumbled, “Dramatic much.”
The bathroom door swung open. Standing in the doorway, eyes set on you, Rio commanded, “Can you stop talking? Please give me a moment of peace, ma. All that talking’s gon’ land your ass in a world of trouble. Save yourself, mama. Be quiet.”
You cut your eyes at him, sliding down into bed. You lay on the side facing away from him. The corners of your mouth pulled into a mischievous grin. Waiting for the shower to start, you attempted to remove yourself from the bed and head toward the exit. Rio's voice bounced off the bathroom walls, halting your movement.
“Get back in bed, mama.”
You kissed your teeth, “Ain’t nobody left. Shut up, Rio.”
“You heard what I said. Stop playing with me.”
Pouncing back on the bed, you snarled towards the bathroom door.
“Fix your face, ma. You’re trying my patience tonight.”
Can he see through the damn walls or something?
“Nobody worried about you, Christopher.”
“Yeah, okay. Your stubborn ass got back in that bed. Didn’t you?”
Rio wanted to wash the events of the day away. He wanted a few quiet minutes to destress, but being a little hellcat, you wouldn’t give him that. You had a response for everything. He loved you combative and keyed up, but tonight, you were laying it on thick and wouldn’t let up. Rio was slightly irritated that his plan to piss you off again was starting to backfire. Taking a few calming breaths, he readied himself to regain control of the situation.  
The water cut off, and he walked into the room, towel hanging dangerously low around his waist. There were beads of water sliding down his naked torso. Being irritated by him wasn’t enough to stop your eyes from tracing him from head to toe. Squeezing your thighs together, you bit your lip, fighting the urge to jump on him. Rio felt your eyes on him and smirked in your direction. He laid a fresh pair of underwear on the foot of the bed. Standing upright, his eyes connected with yours as Rio pulled the towel from his waist. His eyes stayed on you as he took the time to dry the rest of his body. Your vision latched onto his manhood as you watched it swing from side to side. The tip of your tongue danced across your lips, and Rio rasped, “You hungry, mama?” The knowing smirk on his face aggravated you. Not thinking it through, you mumbled, “Like you give a fuck.”
A low and bitter chuckle fell from Rio’s lips. That was your last chance. His bottom lip pulled between his teeth. His eyes darkened and held yours as he slipped into his underwear. Tossing the towel into the hamper, he crept toward you. The silence that filled the air added to the moment's intensity.
Rio’s fingers glided along the column of your neck. His digits cupped your chin, giving it a light squeeze as a warning. His face crowded your own. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking. Finally, you had pissed him off enough to get the reaction you craved. Wetness pulled between your thighs in anticipation.
“This all could’ve been avoided, mama.”
Rio’s thumb traced your bottom lip as he backed away. You watched in confusion as he stepped into a pair of sweatpants and grabbed his phone. Stepping toward the door, you asked, “Where are you going?”
“Thought you didn't want to be near me, darlin’? I think you need some time alone. Just go to bed. I'm not tired.”
“I’ve been alone for two days! You’re such an asshole.”
His hand gripped the doorknob as he rolled his neck and shoulders. He was fighting the urge to pounce. With his back to you, Rio finished, “Next time you want to be fucked. Just say that, ma.”
You growled in annoyance, chucking a pillow against his back as he walked out of the room.
“Your ass is lucky you're carrying my baby. It's the only thing keeping me from snatching your little ass up. Crazy ass woman,” he called out from the hallway.
You punched your pillows and got back in bed. Too upset to sleep, a slew of emotions rained down on you. First, there were tears of frustration. Then anger, followed by another round of guilt.
Why do I keep putting this man through hell? All over some dick. That’s what it comes down to. However, if he would’ve cracked my damn back, this shit could’ve been avoided. You're so damn busy you can’t slide inside me and bust a quick nut? 
You smiled, rolled your eyes, and finished your thoughts.
Damn, I’m a brat. Let me drag grumpy pants back to bed. I thought, “wE sLeEp BeSiDe EaCh OtHeR No MaTtEr WhAt,” Head ass.
Rio was sitting on the edge of the living room sofa, arms draped over his lap. The longer he sat there thinking over the day and your attitude. The more he had to fight the urge to do the things he truly wanted. Rio fisted the top of his pants as wicked thoughts of you crying out for him cycled through. His hands trembled, filled with the need to possess and punish you. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back to calm his hunger. That plan fell through as your scent flowed into the room. He groaned, opening his eyes and settling his gaze on you.
“You could’ve slept in the guest room. Why are you being extra? I thought we didn’t sleep in separate rooms anyway?”
“I’m not about to keep going back and forth with you. Just go back to bed, Mama,” he responded with tiredness in his voice.”
That pulled at your heartstrings.
Be nice, bitch.
You swallowed your pride and made the first move toward reconciliation.
“Come back to bed, Rio. I’m sorry for being unreasonable, papa.”
Still standing in the entryway of the spacious living room, you waited for a response. The room was painfully quiet as you two watched one another. Rio’s gaze trailed your body. It was just something about you in his T-shirts that always drove him crazy. He kept his expression blank, making it hard for you to get a read on him. The silence continued for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was different. It wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t happy either.
It was dominant, possessive even. 
“Come here.”
Oh, shit. Not that voice. Anything but that.
There were two types of dominant Rio. One, you had been working his nerves for. The other? Not so much. You stayed frozen in place.
“Don’t make me ask again.”
Your legs carried you over to him. Stepping between him and the coffee table, you waited for further instruction.
“Look, I know I’ve been working your nerves-.”
“Mm-Mm. Quiet. Talking seems to be your downfall, Mama.”
Rio’s hands reached up and grasped your hips.
“Sit,” he instructed, pulling you into a seated position on the coffee table.
His elbows rested on the top of his knees, hands folded underneath his chin.
“You’ve been doing your best to get my attention. Now that you have it. You seem a bit worried, Mama. It’s what you wanted. Right?”
Silence.
“Good girl. You finally learned how to listen and not talk. It’s a little shocking, honestly. You’ve had so much to say for the past two days. Now, when it seems you’re about to get the response you want, and then some. You don’t have shit to say.”
You could feel the heat radiating off of him. Fucked. That’s what you were. There were times when you would overdo it, pushing him too far. Tonight was going to be one of those nights. Pulling in a shaky breath, you continued to listen. Being pregnant, you didn’t know how he would play it. That alone sent a shiver down your body.
See, this is what my emotional, spoiled ass gets. It’s too late to turn back now. Dear sweet Kitty Kat, I wish you the best of luck, girl.
“What’s wrong, darlin’? You seem a bit nervous.”
More silence.
Rio leaned towards you, placing his hands on your plush thighs. He was so close your noses were an inch apart. He tilted his head, angling it to nip your bottom lip. Pulling back, his hand massaged your left cheek. It circled your skin as he leaned back in.
“My hands itching to wrap around your throat, Mama. You know I can’t act like this and do things like that when you’re carrying my child. I don’t take risks with my seed, and you know that. Playing with your oxygen supply is the same as messing with theirs. So why the fuck do you keep trying me,” he groaned.
“Baby, I’m-“
“Shhh.” He laid a gentle kiss on your lips. “You've been talking all day. Right now is a time for listening, darlin’.”
He leisurely rose from the couch, towering over you.
“Let’s put your mouth to better use. Yeah?”
Your breath hitched as his fingers threaded through your hair. Tugging it, he tilted your head back, pecking your lips again. Rio’s eyes held yours as his free hand dipped inside his sweatpants and briefs. Releasing and stroking his member, he hovered over you.
“You wanted some attention. Right, mama? You need dick? Open that pretty little mouth for me.”
Rio jerked your head forward. Hand still wrapped tightly around his thick length, he tapped it on your lips. Your mouth watered and instantly fell open.
“Now you want to be a good girl,” he groaned, swiping the head of his cock on the tip of your tongue.
You started to wrap your mouth around him, but he backed away. A whimper fell from your mouth. Rio held your chin, “I’ll tell you when you can eat it up, Mama,” he whispered, gently tapping your face with his girth.
“You so fucking fine. Wet juicy ass lips got my shit throbbing,” Rio moaned, bending down to kiss you again. Eyes blazing, you used your mouth to capture his thumb. You suckled it, giving him doe eyes. It was as if your beautiful orbs were pleading for him to give in. Your body was so wound up it screamed for some sort of relief. You so desperately wanted to taste him. Thoughts of him spilling his seed into your mouth had you salivating. Rio’s lips parted as his tongue did that snake motion you loved. He slid his thumb from your lips, moving it out of reach.
“Can’t even ruin you in the manner you deserve. I want to shove my dick in that pretty little mouth and fuck your throat until you choke. Damn, I want to leave you gasping for air, voice hoarse. You know I love the way you swallow the dick.”
 An appreciative whimper sounded from your lips. Rio’s eyes danced with excitement. He took joy at the needy and desperate look on your face. The rise and fall of your chest quickened as sinful sounds came from your sweet lips. 
“Look at you moaning and whimpering. That’s my nasty bitch. Does the thought of me shoving myself down that pretty little throat turn you on, mama? It makes you wet. Doesn’t it?”
You shivered and released a stuttered breath, “Daddy, please.” He smiled wickedly, “Damn, I love it when you beg, darlin’.”
“Christopher, please. I’m about to go crazy. I don't think I've ever wanted to swallow you down this bad. Please, Papa. I need you.”
A chuckle fell from his lips. Rio swallowed hard, and you could see the pulse dancing on the side of his neck. His eyes grew darker as he leaned close enough, and you felt his breath brush against your lips.
“You are so cute, mama. Beg as much as you want. The question is: Do you think you deserve it,” he whispered, peppering your lips with light kisses. The corners of his lips lifted, forming a smile as you panted the word yes. “Mm, no. I don't think so, darlin’. You've been stomping around, throwing tantrums, twisting and turning, rolling that neck for days now.”
Your impatience and temper got the best of you.
“If you're so tired of my damn attitude. Put me out of my misery already. You're the one being stingy with the dick! You can't find a few moments to love on your wife?”
There was that sinister smile once more. Rio’s hand went to wrap around your throat, but halfway he stopped. Closing it into a fist tightly, he forced it down to his side. He smirked, slowly opening his mouth to speak, “You’re letting these hormones rattle you, mama. They got you impatient as fuck and coming out of pocket.”
Tucking himself back into his sweats, Rio reclaimed his spot on the sofa. Leaning back into the cushions, he watched your face twist up in frustration.
“Fuck this. I’m going back upstairs. Sleep wherever you want. I don’t care.”
“Sit. Down,” Rio roared.
You froze, back still facing him.
“I’m getting tired of saying things twice,” Rio hissed. “Sit your ass down.”
You swung around and stomped to the coffee table to reclaim your seat.
“Not there. Come here.”
Standing in front of him, you crossed your arms over your chest.
“You beckoned? Dear sweet husband.”
Though Rio wore a thin smile, you could tell he didn’t find shit amusing. Glancing at his lap, he whispered, “Sit.”
You kissed your teeth, plopping into his lap. He pressed up against you, hands gripping your waist. “You enjoy making me tick. Don’t you darlin’?”
Not waiting for you to answer, one hand abandoned your waist. It slid into your hair, tugging at the strands. The action caused you to release something Rio couldn’t decipher. What had started as a gasp shifted to a whimper and ended as a moan. The sound caused his erection to twitch underneath you as he bit back a groan.
“Why are you giving Daddy a hard time? Thought you loved me, Mama,” he teased.
Your lips parted, but he tugged more, signaling you to remain silent.
“Don’t deny it, love. I’m over here fighting everything in me right now. I know how you want it. You ain’t in no condition for that, baby girl.”
“How do I want it, Papa,” you whispered breathlessly.
Rio’s hand trailed to the column of your neck. He gave it a light, gentle squeeze. Pulling your ear to his lips, he groaned, “You want that rough shit. Need me to choke you. Talk my shit and say all the nasty things you like. Pin you down, fuck you until you cry. That’s what you want, yeah,” he questioned, nipping at your earlobe.
A smirk danced across his face at the sound of your whimpering.
“Can’t you just do it as gently as possible? Please, you begged, grinding into his lap.
His growl bounced off the living room walls. It was a signal, a warning, but you couldn’t help yourself. Circling your hips, you pressed further into his erection. Rio hissed, “Behave. You really gotta chill, Mama.”
You stood long enough to turn and straddle his thigh. His hands cradled your small bump. Pecking his lips, you watched as Rio’s eyes fluttered closed. The two of you slipped into a sensual kiss. Your hips rolled as you started to grind your moist panties against his thigh.
“Papa, please. I’m begging you. I need you. I’ll take it any way you’d like.”
He sucked in a shallow breath, grasping your chin.
“I know you will. You don’t have a choice, mama.”
Cocky motha-.
“Keep grinding that slick little pussy against me, baby,” he rasped, grabbing up the globes of your behind. “Now I know you can do better than that. Grind harder,” he finished with a smack to each cheek. Mouths collided as your fingers traced patterns along the nape of his neck. Your tongues wrestled for dominance. His palms dug into your supple flesh, guiding you along the slick spot that started to form on his thigh.
“Damn, mama. Just the sound of my voice makes that little pussy weep, yeah?”
He watched you with pride, your eyes shut tight, breathing ragged. Rio moved his hands to your breast, giving them a light squeeze. He moaned as his teeth sunk into your bottom lip.
“Go a little faster. Pull yourself toward the edge, darlin’.”
Your body rocked faster against his drenched thigh as his hand crept until it found its way underneath your shirt, pulling at the hardened nipples.
“Christopher.”
“Hmm, baby? Talk to me, mama. What do you need from Daddy?”
The words got stuck in your throat, and you edged closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Your head tilted back, and the mewl you released made all Rio’s blood rush to his thick member. He peppered kisses along the soft skin of your neck, cooing, “You close, baby girl? Hmm? Come on now, tell me how you feel, darlin’. Let me hear that pretty voice.”
“So damn close. Add a little pressure, Daddy. Press into me, please.”
Rio chuckled, lifting his thigh just enough to give you the desired pressure.
“That better, sweetheart?”
“Fuck,” you whispered. Ye-I’ma come. Please-.”
You started to tremble, signaling an explosive orgasm. Rio’s fingers gripped your waist, halting all movement. A high-pitched whine echoed throughout the room as you tried to power through his grasp and thrust your hips. His hold on you was too strong to fight. The teasing chuckle he gave frustrated you.
“Why would you do that? Don’t play with me like that, Rio,” you whimpered.
“Oh, you thought this was about to be easy? No, love. See where all the nagging and expectations got you. Playing with my patience had you believing I would let you have your way. Fuck that. You better work for that shit, mama. You know how I operate, and I ain’t feeling too generous right now.” He pinched your nipple, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.
Shoving his shoulder, he fell back against the couch, pinning you with a mischievous glint.
“Ain’t shit funny, Rio. You’re pissing me off,” you snapped, pacing the hardwood floor.
“That makes two of us,” he countered, shrugging his shoulders.
“What happened to a happy wife, a happy life? I’m carrying your child. Where is the love?”
“So damn dramatic. You just knew you’d get your way, huh?”
You stopped, turning to face him. Your arms crossed your ample chest. Frustration ran deep in your mind. The two of you matched glare for glare.
Rio’s eyes darkened as he stood, walking toward you. He kissed you long and hard, backing you toward the living room wall. Your body shivered as you made contact with the chilled surface. He broke the kiss and rasped, “Should’ve used these past few minutes to make a convincing argument,” he tsked. “I don't even know if you deserve to come at this point, darlin’.”
Rio dropped to his knees, and you watched his head disappear underneath the fabric of your shirt. Heat pulsed throughout your core as you felt Rio pull fabric aside. Thousands of tiny sparks flooded your body as you felt his wet, warm tongue trail from the bottom of your dripping sex to the top. His middle and pointer fingers spread you open while the tip of his tongue danced around your bundle of nerves. You released a shuttered breath, head tilting back as your eyes fluttered closed. Without having to look up, Rio paused his licking and growled, “Keep you’re fucking eyes on me. Take off this damn shirt, and watch me eat this pussy up, mama.” 
Say less. I got you, Zaddy.
His eyes burned with passion at the sight of your breast. “You don’t need these either,” he rasped, tearing the panties from your body. Without another word, his head dipped back between your thighs. He teased you with nips and licks until you squirmed, begging for more. The pace had started achingly slow. His breath fanned your lower lips, “Look at you wiggling and shit. Are you aching for me, mama?” Rio inhaled your scent, “Damn, I’m about to eat this shit up.”
“Less talking. More licking, Papa,” you mewled, trying to thrust your heat back into his face. Rio leaned away.
“See, that’s your problem. You need to learn patience, mama. We don’t need to rush. Let me take my time and enjoy all this fine dining.”
“Truthfully, you get off on torturing me, don’t you?”
Instead of using his words, Rio answered with action. Still holding your lips apart, three fingers from the opposite hand pressed into your clit, rubbing wide circles slowly.
In a husky tone, he taunted, “Come on, sweetheart, I know you can get wetter than this.” Your sarcastic rebuttal halted as he continued, “Let me help you with that, ma.”
His words fully registered as you felt his saliva collide with your silky flesh. His mouth covered your lips again, alternating between slow, languid strokes and rapid, hungry licks. From the movement of his tongue to the way he gripped your thighs. Feeling everything at once was hurdling toward a powerful orgasm. His fingers rejoined the party, using them to fumble with your clit as he thrust his tongue into you.
“N-no, baby. Not ye-it’s too soon. S-slow down, fuck!”
Your hand wrapped around his wrist, trying to pull his fingers away. Rio swatted it as he hoisted you higher, locking his arms around your thighs.
“I thought you wanted to come though, Mama,” he teased. “Let me switch it up for you, yeah?”
His tongue replaced those same fingers, licking and sucking your sweet little nub like a man who hadn’t eaten in days.
“Oh! You fucking demon. Daddy, no,” you mewled, body starting to jerk. The sensation sent tingles throughout as your fist pounded against the wall. The digits of the other hand dug into his scalp. You felt him smile against your flesh, moaning and growling. Slipping three fingers inside, he flexed them, deliciously tapping your g-spot. The pace of his digits quickened as his lips wrapped around your abused clit, and he sucked as hard as he could. Your body writhed. The feeling was so intense you considered climbing the wall.
This bitch would go harder. I need to learn how to shut up.
Rio tsked again, “There’s nowhere for you to run, Mama. Daddy got you locked in,” he taunted, fingers speeding up a little more. “Thought this is what you wanted, hm? You've been crying for this all day. Is it too much for you, baby?” Rio’s fingers slipped out of you, and the palm of his hand delivered smacks over your lips. “Yeah! There we go! That’s that wet shit, mama.” Rio dove back in, the sounds of his mouth on your body growing more lewd by the second. All you could do was tremble and whimper. Rio groaned, his mouth devouring you. His words tickled your slick heat, “ You gon’ come for me? Hmm? My mouth got you leaking all over the place.” Your legs started to shake as his tongue lashed at your skin. 
“Answer me, ma,” he demanded, harsh yet sexy.
“Yes, fuck. I’m so close, shit!”
“Beg me to let you come.”
“Please, Papa! Let me come all over that sinfully delicious tongue.”
“I know you’re close. Look at that pretty little pussy squeezing around my fingers,” Rio teased, adding a fourth finger. “Look at these thick thighs shaking,” he taunted. Your husband took a moment to nip at your inner thighs. “Soft as fuck. Tastes so damn good.” His lips licked and sucked at the soft skin as he massaged your g-spot.
“Hold on a bit longer for me.”
His eyes glistened, and you knew Rio was about to make you suffer. There was something in his expression that just reeked of revenge. Minutes ticked by, and you were proven right: every torturous lick of his tongue was his getback. Every time his lips captured your bundle of nerves, it felt like he was trying to suck the soul out of you. He had brought you to the edge for the third time, only to slow down. Tears threatened to spill as you begged and pleaded. At this point, you were no longer begging him to come on his talented tongue. You just wanted him to wrap your legs around his waist and pound you into an earth-shattering orgasm. Twice, you had tried pulling his head away, pressing him to fuck you. Both times, Rio denied you and went right back to eating. His greedy mouth slurped at your juices, “Mm-mm, mama. Daddy’s still hungry.”
His tongue grazed your clit, causing your body to shiver with force. You cried out, “Rio, please! You have to let me come. I can’t do this anymore.” Tears trailed down your cheeks, tugging at his heart a bit. He kissed your nub once more before he pulled up from between your legs. Using the pads of his thumbs, he wiped at the remnants of your tears. Pecking your lips, his hands cradled your face. “I’m sorry, mama. Shh, I know, baby. I know. Breathe for me, catch your breath.”
How could your emotions be all over the place? Yet, every ounce of you still ached for him. Though you were irritated and pissed at the way he edged you. The need to be fucked and orgasm was still the top priority. You could curse him out later. Truthfully, you had done it to yourself. You knew pushing him too far was what brought you here. Patience and understanding had been an option that would have left you well rewarded. Instead, you had opted to try to force his hand.
I’m pregnant, horny, and a bit illogical at the moment. I want what the fuck I want, and I want it now.
Rio’s eyes locked with yours, his orbs still dark but sympathetic at the same time. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he swept hair that blocked your vision. Taking a deep breath, he leaned in, lips brushing against yours.
“I’ma stop fucking with you, mama,” he whispered, stealing a kiss.
Rio shushed your whimpering as his hands trailed back down your body and between your thighs. His fingers brushed your slit, collecting moisture along the way. His fingers slid lower until they reached the destination they were in search of. Two fingers penetrated you as his free hand tweaked your nipple. You sucked in a sharp breath as his digits tapped against that special place in warp speed.
“R-rio. Oh, God,” you mewled. “No, please. I want you inside. I need you inside me, baby. Why won’t you just-.”
His head fell into the crook of your neck as you pleaded. An anguished growl echoed against your throat.
“I can’t right now, mama. I just can’t,” he responded helplessly as his fingers kept slamming into you. “Give it to me, mama. I know you can’t hold it anymore. Come for me, baby girl,” he moaned against your skin.
“But why? Oh! Fuck! Y-yes. God, yes,” you cried, falling over the edge.
“Fuck, mama. My arm’s soaked,” he groaned, breath shallow, as he trailed kisses down your neck. He waited for you to respond, but the only sound he heard was sniffling. Rio pulled back with a quickness, hands cradling your face once more. He kissed you, “What’s wrong, mama? Why are you crying?”
“Are you not attracted to me anymore?”
“Mama. Don’t start. Why wouldn’t I be attracted to you? That’s a wild ass question. Please don’t take this wrong, but these hormones got you all messed up. You know better than to ask me such a ludicrous question.” 
Your eyes started to water again, and Rio threw his head back, running his hand down his face. Releasing a long sigh, “Don’t start again, mama. You’re all over the place today. One minute, you’re cursing me out, trying to push me away. The next minute, you’re on me. I damn sure can’t keep up with the mood swings today. Now I’m getting pissed all over again because you're questioning my love for you.”
“It’s a simple question, Rio. Something must be wrong since you won’t fuck your wife. It can’t be that bizarre of a question. Just admit it. I’m gaining weight (not to mention I was already plushie before), so you’re not interested.”
“What number mood swing is this?”
“Fuck you, Rio.”
“You’d like that? A fuck. Wouldn’t you?”
“Such a dickish response!”
You stormed away, ignoring his demands not to walk away from him. Upon entering your bedroom, you slammed the door. Climbing under the covers, you snuggled down until you found a comfortable spot. He didn’t immediately follow you upstairs. Sinking back into the couch, he tried to calm his temper. 
Rio’s mood/urge was why Y/N hadn’t gotten what she wanted in the first place. He was right back to being as pissed as he was earlier. It was all the more reason to stay where he was until he could calm himself. During the first round of this sexually charged argument, it had taken every fiber in him not to fuck you relentlessly. No matter how bad you both wanted it. He wasn’t comfortable with manhandling you at a time like this.
He tilted his head back against the cushions and chuckled to himself. Looking back over the day, you had been a pain in the ass. However, Rio loved that you were adamant about getting what you desired.
The fact that she thinks there’s a way for me to be gentle and rough in that sort of head space is laughable. I love this crazy ass woman.
He replayed the last of your conversation. Guilt crept in as he remembered how your lip trembled as you fought back tears of frustration and neediness while leaving the room. Thinking the situation over, Rio started to hold himself accountable. He knew what to expect at times like this. If he was being honest, having another baby was mainly his idea. That thought alone had him shaking his head and smirking.
This woman is going to drive me insane. She can’t be serious thinking I’m not attracted to her right now because she’s pregnant. If anything, that makes my dick harder. These kinks, man. Her ass knows I love her any size. Mama knows I love it when she’s stupid thick. Damn, I want to bend her ass over something. Just wait until baby girl or boy gets here. I’m going to remember every single mood swing and attitude. Like that man Miguel once said, that pussy gon’ be mine. Let me check on her mean ass. Remember to remain calm, Rio.
He flipped off all the lights downstairs and made sure everything was locked up tight. It was pitch black in the master suite. Rio entered quietly, not wanting to wake you. The faint sounds of sniffles came from under the covers on your side of the bed. Your husband’s head hung low at the sounds, shaking it side to side in disbelief. Sadness ached deep in his chest. It had never been his intention to make you feel unwanted. He certainly didn’t mean for you to feel unattractive. You had pushed him to that place of uncertainty. Rio didn’t trust himself enough to remain gentle. His anger had been raging off and on for the past two days. It was time for him to set the record straight and make things right.
Self-control, my boy. Self-control. I may not be able to choke her. Let that mouth get to firing off again. I’ma spank this woman. Lord, help me.
He approached your side of the bed, attempting to lower the comforter, but it wouldn’t budge. You grumbled, “Don’t, Christopher. Just get in bed. Let’s get some rest. We can discuss this in the morning.” The fabric of the blankets muffled your voice a bit, but Rio could hear how you fought back tears.
Rio gently rubbed what he believed to be your hip. “Don’t hide from me,” he rasped.
“I’m not. Goodnight, Papa.”
He lowered his head, rubbing soothing circles against your back. He stood there a few moments, trying to find a way to make things better. A thought entered his mind. His head leaned to the side as he gave a quick head nod. Heading to his side of the bed, Rio checked his notifications one last time, setting the ringer to silent. He grabbed an item from the nightstand, setting it to the side. Rio got into bed, sliding closer. The feeling of his chest pressing against your back as he joined you under the covers.
“You still mad at me, Mama,” he questioned, leaving butterfly kisses against your skin. “You gon’ forgive me, hm?”
“Shut up, Rio,” you responded with a giggle and sniffle.
“You know you’re crazy for thinking that bullshit, right? I love you, mama. Don’t you know that you’re my favorite person in this world? I love you for life, woman,” he explained. “I’ll always be attracted to you, no matter what. You’re my heart and world, baby girl.” Rio nibbled at your neck. “Those better be happy sniffles, he teased.
“They are, trust me. Thank you for the reassurance, Papa,” you responded, voice still shaky.
His fingers caressed your thighs, drawing small patterns on your flesh, lips peppering kisses against a bare shoulder back to the soft spot below your ear.
“Papa, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m still wet from earlier,” you whispered, lower lips tingling again.
Rio shushed you as his tongue swept across the column of your neck. “You looked so damn good in those jeans with the heels. You just had to get me hard while I was working. Didn’t you? How am I supposed to focus with images of fucking you against my desk floating through my head?”
“I just wanted to see you, baby.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
His hand slid between soft thighs, swiping at the moisture pooling between your folds.
“Always wet. Forever ready for me. Shit. Give me those lips, ma.”
Both of you tried to take control of the kiss until his fingers pulled away. You huffed, “Not this shit again-Oh! Shit,” you moaned. Not only had he placed his hand back where it was, but you felt a lovely buzzing sensation against your clit. “Yes,” you whispered.
“Been waiting for the right time to break this out. You’ve been rambling on about that damn toy, so I bought you a rose, Mama. How’s that feel?” Unable to speak, you answered with a sweet sigh. Rio’s lips connected to your temple. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughed, increasing the speed.
Between his lips and the toy, you hadn’t noticed Rio tugging down his sweatpants. The kiss broke as you mewled. He bit his lip, watching you gasp at the feel of the rose pressed against your nub while his aching erection slid back and forth against your folds. The leaking tip dipped in and out of your spasming channel. The covers kicked down to the foot of the bed as Rio’s hungry gaze drank in the writhing of your bodies. His breathing quickened, listening to your faint moans.
“I think we’re both a bit calmer now. Don’t you agree, Mama,” he questioned, sucking in a breath at the wetness pulling around his tip.
If you had heard him, Rio didn’t wait for a response. He reclaimed your mouth, sinking his thick, veiny rod inside you.
“Got Damn,” you both moaned in unison.
“That’s a good girl. Take it all, Mama. So fucking tight. Grip that shit.”
Burying your head in your pillow, you trembled, moaning repetitively. Rio’s hands sunk into the plushness of your waist. His finger sunk deeper, pressing your behind into his lap. Pumping you slowly, you felt his hips do that circular motion. 
“Faster, Daddy. Please go faster.”
“Whatever you say, love,” he answered, pulling your hair and snapping his hips harder. “The settings go higher, baby.” Shifting the rose to its highest voltage, he growled at the screams that bounced around the room.
“T-too much. Fuck!”
“No, ma. You got this. Take that shit. Don’t you want me to make that pussy feel good, yeah? Yes, baby. Oh, shit. Take it, baby. Just let me pound that pretty little flower.”
Every thrust sent you higher. Your fingers dug into Rio’s hand as you thrashed about the bed.
“You keep fucking me like this. I’m not going to last much longer,” you whined.
“You got that. Go on and wet that shit up, mama. Fall apart. Come for, Daddy. I’ll put you back together and break you apart again. Don’t bury your face in the pillow. Let me hear you come loud and clear. Come for me right fucking now,” he demanded, giving your ass a hard smack.”
“Fu-Chris! Baby,” you screamed, body tensing, shaking violently. Kisses danced along your temple. Whimpers continued to fall from your lips, the aftershocks sending waves throughout your body. Rio attempted to center and bring you back down from the high.
“You’re good, mama. I got you. Good job,” he praised. 
You couldn’t imagine a better way to end a long day. At least that's what you thought until Rio decided to take it one step further.
“I’m not finished with you yet, baby girl,” he whispered.
Rio slid out of you, laying on his back, while he waited for you to turn toward him. Your face hovered over his. Staring lovingly into his eyes, you spoke softly.
“Tell me what you need, Papa,” you questioned, stroking his jaw.
He reached for your leg, bringing it over his to straddle him. Hands traveled the length of your body, stopping to cup your breast. Through body language alone, the communication was clear. Giving him a gentle nod, lip tucking between your teeth. Rio felt your digits wrap around his length, rising just enough. You slowly slipped his throbbing length into the slick cavern. The two of you moaned in unison.
Rio sat up, wrapping his arms around your waist. You rode him slow and steady. Biting your lip, he encouraged you, “Mm, that's it, mama. You feel so good.” He wrapped his lips around your nipple, tongue circling it hungrily. Giving it a playful bite pulled a meal from your lungs. Releasing the taut bud, Rio whimpered, “Keep squeezing me. Just like that. Fuck.”
He tugged one of your hands from his shoulder, placing the digits around the column of his throat. He smirked as your eyes widened.
“I can’t choke you, so why don’t we switch shit up? You be me for a change, mama. Be rough with Daddy, yeah?”
A tremble coursed through you at the thought of it.
“It’s your body, mama. You’re in control. Ride me as hard as you can stand it.” He pecked your lips, cooing, “Are you going to ride your daddy nice and hard, hm? This is your dick. Take it, mama,” he insisted, giving your bottom another slap.
Pushing at his chest, you laid him back against the mattress. Your hand tightened around his throat as your hips circled, taking him as deep as possible. Your head fell back as your speed increased.
“Oh,” you cried. “Daddy!”
“Look at me,” he gasped.
Your face floated above his, and you started to bounce erratically. Rio’s face twisted up as he grunted your name. The hold on his throat tightened, causing him to bite his lip harder. You felt his hands spank and grip your cheeks. The two of you entered a lip lock as the headboard banged against the wall. Coming up for air, you felt him twitch inside you.
“Fuck, Mama. I’m about to nut. Is that what you want, baby? Do you want to be filled up? Yeah, I know you do, darlin’. F-fuck! Come with me, mama! Right now!”
You both plummeted over the edge, calling out each other’s name. Trying to keep balance, your hands rested against Rio’s chest. He sat up, pulling you into an embrace. Leaving kisses all over your face, you giggled breathlessly. His arm reached around your waist, guiding you to lie down comfortably.
“Let’s get you cleaned up. Stay right here. I got you, mama.”
Rio disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with a warm towel. With the aftercare complete, he quickly got himself together. Making his way to the kitchen, Rio returned with a glass of ice water for you.
“Drink up. You need to replenish, ma.”
“Thank you, Papa. What about you, though?”
“Drank it downstairs, " he responded, cuddling up to you.
“So we’re switching roles now? Is that what we are doing,” you teased.
Rio’s laugh bellowed throughout the room. “Listen, ma. You’re little thirsty ass needed that rough shit. I figured since I’m not doing that right now. You can get your fix if I relinquish a little bit of that power. Temporarily, of course.” He gave your shoulder a playful bite. “You should know I’m keeping tabs for the remainder of this pregnancy.”
“Tabs? What tabs?”
“I’m keeping a mental log of every time you act up. The moment the doctor clears you. That thick ass will be stinging, and you won’t be able to walk straight for a few weeks. Maybe a month,” he shrugged, nonchalance written on his handsome face. His eyes reduced to slits, “Breath play’s about to be a beast for you, mama. Hate it for you.”
“No, you don’t, liar.”
“You said it. Not me,” Rio shrugged.
He felt your fist collide with his arm.
“Aye, chill out now. You know what, let me put this shit in my notes. What is this? That makes at least eight offenses. For the day alone.”
“Whatever. Goodnight, crybaby.”
“Says the woman that’s been crying all night.”
“Don’t piss me off again, Rio. Go to sleep. Keep in mind that you won’t be leaving for work on time. I can tell that I’ll be just as needy in the morning. Have my dick ready.”
“Just admit that you only want me for my body,” he teased.
You kissed your teeth and mugged his forehead.
“Aye! Chill. Where my kisses at?”
Rio pulled your leg over his waist, cradling your bump, and kissed you goodnight.
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What did y'all think about that roller coaster? Hope you enjoyed it. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, lovelies 💕!
lovelies💕:
@darqchilddaydreamz @4everbrookemarie @fineanddandy @rio-reid-whoreee @novaniskye @that-one-anxious-mango @1andonlytashae @blkbutterfly816 @lovedlover @vanityinvenus
@librarian1002 @banana123pudding @fezcosonlylove @sunshine-flower @invisiblegiurl
@astoldbychae @amorestevens @starrynite7114 @alertyoulikeitsamber
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ineffablyruined · 9 months
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I want to talk about THAT smile. The one from the elevator. The one that scares us (or maybe just me).
This one:
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It's stayed with me since the first time I saw it. Michael Sheen is an absolute master of his face, so this sinister smile means something. I don't believe that it's a forced smile that he's pasting on before he enters Heaven. It looks absolutely malevolent.
And I just couldn't figure out WHY.
Aziraphale just left everything he loves behind: humans, food, bookshop, and Crowley. Crowley most of all. He was devastated after that kiss, devastated that Crowley wouldn't just come with him so they could be together. He was hurt, shattered, unsure of himself and his decision. So why the practically evil face?
I don't subscribe to the Coffee Theory. I think it takes too much away from the emotional and character development and everything the fandom went through in those last 10 minutes for Neil to pull the rug out from under us like that.
So if he's not drugged, then what's the face?
The Metatron just dropped a bomb on him. The Second Coming. Heaven's going to restart the apocalypse. End the Earth. The place where he'd just left the love of his life and everything he holds dear. Make everything they'd fought for absolutely meaningless.
And then I remembered this face:
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See how similar they are?
I've seen a lot of people put this down to a repeat body swap theory, but I don't buy that either. I think that would be less inspired than what we've come to expect from the brilliance of Neil's and Terry's minds.
I'm going on a bit of a tangent here for a second, but I promise it will make sense in a minute. When the demons were coming for them, Nina told Aziraphale that he shouldn't wait to be saved by Crowley, that he should come up with his own plans and save himself. And he did, but it wasn't a total plan. It was the beginnings of one. He held them off, but when his plan ran out of time, it put him and the two humans (except maybe not -> looking at you, Maggie) he's come to care about at risk. Then he had to do something reckless and probably stupid, and it worked, but it was too close.
Back to the matter at hand:
These two perfectly wonderful, complete f*cking morons have spent the last 4 years together. Probably daily. And do you know what happens when you spend so much time together?
You start picking up the other person's mannerisms, mirroring speech patterns and body language.
My theory:
Aziraphale spent that elevator ride coming up with a plan. He's come up with something that he thinks will be so clever, so unexpected of him (an angel), so Crowley-esque, that the Metatron will never see it coming. And he's not about to cock it up like he did in the bookshop, show up with only a half-baked plan.
No. He's got something positively diabolical. Something inspired by Crowley. So he makes the face that he's learned from spending four years in the daily company of the original owner of that expression. The only face he could possibly make when figuring out how to save the world and get back to his demon. And thinking about how much he can't wait to tell a Crowley how clever he's been.
That face is 6000 years of togetherness in the making.
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 4 months
Text
The Danger Zone (Part 20) - Hangman
Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC
Word Count: 3.8k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.
Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Medical Inaccuracies; Crying; Angst; Family Drama; Deployments; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description
Summary: You go into labor.
Series Master List
Master List
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“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Penny cooed, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze. Wiping your tears, she gently touched your shoulder so that you would look at her. “It’s going to be okay. I know it’s scary, but your daughter is coming, and you'll finally get to meet her.”
“But she’s early. She’s not supposed to come yet. She’s still got at least another week,” you whimpered, clutching your bump protectively as more tears streamed down your cheeks. “And Jake’s not here yet.”
“I know, he's not," Penny replied softly, trying to calm you.
"And I can't do it without him!"
"Honey, we need to go to the hospital right now." Penny was still soft with her voice, but there was an edge of force there too. "Your water broke. So, we have to go. Okay?" And though you were still crying, you didn't fight Penny as she led you back to your bedroom. "Come on, let's get you into some clean clothes and then we'll go."
Penny gave Maverick a look before closing the door behind her. He moved to grab a mop and clean up the fluid. Hastily pulling out his phone, Maverick pressed on Bradley's name before balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder.
“Hey, Mav, what’s up?” Rooster asked, picking up on the third ring.
“Has Jake landed at base yet?”
“No, I think he’s still a few hours out. Why?”
“Her water just broke.”
“Are you shitting me?” Rooster questioned quietly. 
“No, I’m not. And she’s already upset and crying. Penny’s getting her ready for the hospital."
"Has she mentioned him?"
"She said that she can't do it without him."
"Jesus Christ."
"Check with Cyclone about Jake.”
“I’ll go now and call you back.”
“Alright, I’m going to be driving them to the hospital.” Maverick glanced at your bedroom before turning back to his conversation with Rooster. “Penny's taking care of her."
"I'll try my best to get him there as soon as possible."
Maverick hung up the call and turned to see Penny leading you out of your bedroom. He jogged over and grabbed the hospital bag before standing on your other side. You were still silently crying but didn’t fight them as they pulled you out to the car. 
“I’ll move the car seat to the back for now," Maverick stated, pulling it out and putting it in the trunk.
Penny got you situated in the backseat before climbing into the back on the other side. Maverick closed the trunk and ran around to start the car. You leaned back in your seat and closed your eyes as tears streamed down your cheeks. Penny rubbed your back as Maverick pulled out of the driveway and headed for the hospital.
"You're going to be okay," Penny assured you, giving your hand a squeeze. "Just focus on your breathing."
“Traffic is horrible,” Maverick cursed, taking a right down a side road. 
“They’re doing all of that construction,” Penny sighed, turning to you as you let out a whimper. Timing your contraction, Penny held your hand. “We’ll get you there soon.”
"Why couldn't she wait?" you whimpered, staring down at your bump. "Why does she have to come now? When he's not here."
"Babies come when they're ready, not when it's convenient," Penny replied softly, rubbing your arm.
Maverick glanced back in the mirror at you and his heart broke at how defeated you looked. All he could do was hope that the baby wasn’t in a rush and that Jake would land soon. 
“I need Jake,” you cried, causing Penny to hug you tighter into her side. "I need him. I can't do it, Penny."
“You can do it, Honey. It's going to be alright. Jake will be home soon, and he'll be right at your side as soon as he can."
“It’s not fair,” you sobbed, causing Maverick’s jaw to lock into place. “It’s not fair.”
~~~~~
Rooster strode through the halls of NAS North Island with a determined look. He shared a short conversation with Cyclone’s secretary before hurriedly knocking on the door. Cyclone called for him to enter and Rooster stepped inside. Giving Cyclone a half-assed greeting, Rooster didn’t pause until he was standing in front of Cyclone’s desk. 
“What’s wrong, Rooster?”
“How far away is Hangman?”
“About two hours as a guess. Why?” Cyclone asked, leaning forward.
“My sister’s water broke. She’s on her way to the hospital right now,” Rooster explained quietly, tension radiating off of him. “And I’m trying to figure out if her husband’s going to be there for her or not.”
Cyclone nodded and turned to his computer. Typing in some quick commands, he turned back to Rooster. 
“His ETA is a little less than three hours.”
“Three hours?” Rooster repeated dejectedly. It was clearly not the answer that he was hoping for. 
“Is she progressing quickly?”
“I don’t know. I’m still waiting for Maverick to call me.”
“Unfortunately, there’s nothing else we can do to get him here earlier. But you have clearance to be there waiting for him. I’ll have him dismissed immediately, given the circumstances.”
“Thank you, sir.”
~~~~~
You were led to a wheelchair and slowly sat down. Maverick quickly pushed you into the hospital. Penny ran alongside the two of you and held the door open. You were immediately admitted, and Maverick and Penny waited out in the hall while you were assessed.
“Rooster says that Jake is three hours out,” Maverick sighed, causing Penny to nod slowly. “Cyclone’s dismissing him as soon as he arrives. Rooster is going to bring him here. I just hope that the traffic isn’t too bad, and this kid isn't in a rush.”
"I'm worried about her, Pete," Penny stated quietly, resting her hand on her chest. "She hasn't been herself for weeks."
"I know," Maverick sighed, rubbing his face. "I don't know what to do. If we tell her that he's coming, she might get better, but if she has to deliver the baby sooner, she's going to fight it. And if we don't tell her, and Jake gets here after the baby's born, I'll feel like I betrayed her."
"Let's not jump to decisions right now," Penny replied, causing Maverick to nod. "Let's just wait and talk to the doctor and see how she's doing."
When the doctor stepped out of the room, Penny and Maverick quickly turned to her. She walked over and greeted them before getting straight to business.
"She's about five centimeters dilated now. Her blood pressure is a little high, but we're monitoring it. The baby is healthy. After talking with her, it sounds like she was in early labor since yesterday evening." Penny and Maverick shared a look before turning back to the doctor. "I'm assuming that she didn't tell you?"
"No, she didn't," Maverick stated, resting his hands on his hips.
"Has she expressed any fear of labor to you or anyone else?"
"Not exactly."
"Her husband is deployed," Penny explained quietly. "She hasn't really been herself since he left and we're worried that she's going to try and fight labor because he's not here."
"I see," the doctor replied, nodding slowly.
"He's coming home today, but we didn't tell her before her water broke. We're worried about telling her now."
"How far away is he?"
"A little more than two hours probably," Maverick stated, causing the doctor to pause for a moment.
"How fast is she progressing?"
"She'll deliver in a few hours, if she keeps going as she is now."
"A few hours?"
"Somewhere between three to five, I would guess."
"Shit," Maverick sighed, rubbing his face again.
"Can I check on her?" Penny asked, causing the doctor to nod and walk off. Turning to Maverick, she squeezed his shoulder, knowing that he was going to run off and try and get Jake here sooner. "Get him here, Pete."
"Just keep her as calm as you can. And if the baby has to come, the baby has to come."
They shared a quick kiss before heading to their separate missions. You were laying on your hospital bed on your side, clutching something to your chest. There were several monitors hooked up to you and Penny walked around the bed.
"How're you doing?" Penny asked softly, brushing her hand down your back.
She paused when she looked down and saw that you were clutching one of Jake's shirts. Your nose was buried in the fabric, and you were clearly trying to soothe yourself with it.
"She's coming," you replied quietly.
"She is," Penny agreed, nodding slowly. "It'll be alright."
You didn't respond and simply closed your eyes and held Jake's shirt to your chest as you tried to regulate your breathing.
~~~~~
Jake stared out at the wide blue sky in front of him. Trying to not get antsy and pull a Hangman, as Rooster would have said, Jake took a breath. Glancing at the photo of the two of you as you held up a picture of your ultrasound, Jake nodded to himself before turning forward once again. 
“I’m coming home, Honey. Just a little longer.”
~~~~~
You stared at the ceiling as the nurse walked off. It seemed that your daughter would be arriving in a few short hours. Resting your hands on your bump, you simply sat there, staring blankly ahead. 
“We haven’t even picked a name yet,” you told Penny softly. “We couldn’t decide on one.”
“What about a middle name?”
“Caroline. For my mom.”
"Of course," Penny stated, watching your expression worriedly. "But don't worry about her name right now. It's a big decision. And there's nothing wrong with thinking carefully about it."
“How did you decide on Amelia?” 
“Amelia Earhart,” Penny stated, causing you to raise an eyebrow. 
“I thought your ex was a sailor?”
“He is, yeah.”
The two of you shared a small smile and laugh. But as the humor faded and you were left with the realization that Jake wouldn't be there to name your daughter with you, you worked yourself up all over again.
“I don’t want to have to name her without him,” you whispered, your voice breaking again. 
Penny got up and pulled you in for a hug, whispering soft words as you let more tears fall. You took in a shaky breath and curled against her chest, already emotionally drained. 
“He should be here. He should get to be here. He wanted to be here.”
Penny rocked you gently and stared out the window, hoping that she would see the Bronco driving down the road towards the hospital. Giving you another squeeze, she held you by your shoulders and offered you a reassuring motherly smile. 
“He loves you. And he loves your baby. And I know that he’s going to come home to you as soon as he can.”
~~~~~
Rooster paced anxiously as Hondo stood behind him, keeping an ear to the radios. Jake’s plane was due soon and Rooster wasn’t able to sit still with the knowledge that your labor was progressing quickly. Holding his hand to his chin, Rooster kept his gaze to the ground and his feet constantly moving to occupy himself. 
“They’re starting the landing sequences now,” Hondo told Rooster. 
He turned and stared at the approaching planes. Holding himself back until he knew that it was safe to approach, Rooster strode forward with the ground crew. And then he started running when he spotted Hangman climbing out of his plane. 
“Hangman!” he yelled, causing Jake to pick his head up sharply. “Let’s go!”
Jake jumped down the ladder, hearing the urgency in Bradley’s voice, and hurried over.
“What’s wrong?” Jake yelled, reaching Bradley quickly.
“Her water broke. She’s in labor,” Rooster told him as they both ran, causing Jake to freeze for a second. 
“She’s not due for another week and half!”
“Take it up with your daughter! And get your ass in gear!”
~~~~~
“Fuck, it hurts,” you sobbed, rocking your hips as you buried your face in your arms. 
You were bent over the hospital bed as your contractions grew more intense. You felt like you could barely stand when your contractions hit now, which only meant that your daughter was even closer to being born. Letting out another whine of pain, your grip tightened on the bed.
“Breathe. You’re doing so well,” Penny coached you, helping you rock your hips. “You're doing amazing."
Penny helped you straighten up as the contraction ended. You took a moment to steady yourself and let the pain subside. Penny pulled out her phone when she felt it buzz and saw Maverick’s text. She read through it quickly before moving to help you again.
She didn’t speak, knowing that you were trying to focus. But Jake was coming. He was on his way. He was coming to be here for the birth of your daughter. 
~~~~~
“This is your definition of a short cut!?” Jake complained loudly.
With the heavy traffic built up in front of them, Jake held his hands to his face and let out a groan of frustration. With the highway a disaster due to construction, they decided to take back roads. But so did everyone else. They had been stuck at this same light for two full rotations and Jake felt like he was going to scream. Actually, he was already screaming.
“I told you that you should have taken a left!”
“It was impossible!” Bradley snapped back, focused forward. 
“Then let me drive!”
“So that you can get us into an accident!? No!”
Jake tugged at his hair, trying to keep calm. But he was rapidly failing. You were only a few miles away, in labor with your daughter, and he came all of this way, and he was still going to miss it. Because of stupid traffic. 
“Move!” Jake and Bradley yelled as soon as the light turned green. 
~~~~~
Closing your eyes, you breathed in and out as you listened to soothing music, trying to prepare yourself for the next part. 
“Everything looks good,” your nurse told Penny, who smiled and nodded in thanks. 
Penny walked around to the side of the bed that you were facing, and her expression softened when she saw that you were cuddling one of Jake’s shirts again, trying to soothe yourself with the lingering scent. Looking out the window, she sighed. 
“Get here quickly, Seresin.”
~~~~~
“Should I just run at this point!?” Jake yelled, sitting up in his seat. 
“It’s five miles!”
“I’ve run further!”
“This is still faster,” Bradley countered, causing Jake to huff and hold his head in his hands. 
“I can’t just sit here like a useless asshole while she has our baby!”
“I’m not asking you to just sit there! Just calm down!"
“Would you be calm if our positions were reversed!?”
“On the outside, yes.”
“Bullshit!”
“It’s not bullshit!”
While Jake and Bradley continued to bicker, a Kawasaki pulled up alongside them. Maverick looked into the Bronco and frowned when he saw Bradley and Jake arguing, completely ignoring him. He revved the engine, but it didn’t seem to get their attention. 
“Jake!” 
“We should have just stayed on the highway!” Jake argued loudly. 
“Bradley!”
“I’m trying the best that I can! Why don’t you try navigating for once!?” Bradley yelled back. 
“Hello!?”
Getting off of his bike, Maverick stalked forward and banged his fist on the glass, causing Jake and Bradley to finally turn to him. Bradley lowered the window down as Maverick shot them both a look. 
“Are you two finished?”
Jake hopped out of the Bronco got onto the back of the Kawasaki without another word. Maverick sped down the street, weaving in and out of traffic, and heading straight for the hospital. 
~~~~~
Penny squeezed your hand when she noticed how terrified you were. Your daughter was coming into the world shortly whether you were ready for her or not. 
“I can't do this,” you whispered shakily. “She can’t be coming now. I’m not ready. I can’t do it.”
“Of course, you can do it.”
“No, I can’t! I can’t do it!” you sobbed, looking absolutely stricken with fear. “I want to go home, Penny! I can’t do this!”
“Yes, you can,” Penny replied more firmly. “Hey, you’ve been preparing for this moment your whole pregnancy. You took the class, read the books, and you made a plan. You’re ready to do this. You can do this. You’re stronger than you think.”
“She can come another day.”
“No, she can’t. She’s coming today. And I know that’s scary. Believe me, I was terrified when I was in your position. But then Amelia was born, and all of that fear and pain disappeared. Because I had my beautiful daughter in my arms. And you’ll get that moment too. And I’ll be here with you for it, okay?”
“She better not have his big fat head," you cried out.
~~~~~
Jake jumped off the Kawasaki and ran into the hospital. Maverick had informed the front desk people about the situation, and they quickly got him checked into the ward.
Rushing down the hall, Jake weaved in between nurses, patients, and family members, searching for your room number. Penny stepped out of your room and waved for him.
Jake hurried the rest of the way down the hall. You sat up on your head, confused at why Penny rushed to the door. But when your husband appeared out of seemingly nowhere, still in his flight suit, you couldn't help but burst into tears.
"Jake!"
He rushed to your side and pulled you in for a hug. You latched onto your husband, sobbing tears of relief and joy as he pressed a series of kisses to your head. Turning his head, Jake gave you a soft and loving kiss before pulling back and resting his head against your own.
"You're here," you breathed out, cupping his cheeks with your hands. Like you weren't convinced that he was real.
"I'm here," he assured you. "I thought that I would surprise you. But it looks like Baby Girl surprised us first."
"She is your daughter, after all."
Penny smiled at the interaction and looked down the hall to see Maverick walking over with a bag for Jake. He stood beside Penny as you and Jake talked softly, sharing a kiss every few seconds.
"I think I'll just leave this on the chair," Maverick joked, causing Penny to smack him lightly on the chest.
"He made it?" the nurse asked, looking into your room.
"He made it."
Jake reluctantly left your side for a moment to change out of his flight suit and take a quick shower to get the smell of jet fuel and sweat off of him before returning to your side. Maverick and Penny said their goodbyes before you and Jake were left alone.
Your contractions were growing more intense and closer together and not even fifteen minutes after Jake arrived, your nurse assessed you one last time.
"I'm going to get the doctor. You're fully dilated."
Jake squeezed your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it as the nurse hurried off. More people started to walk into the room to get you prepped for delivery, but your eyes never left Jake. He leaned over a pressed a kiss to your forehead.  
"She's coming," you breathed out, holding tightly to your husband.
"She is," Jake agreed, trying to keep his voice level. "And I'm here for you through the whole thing, alright? You let me know what you need me to do and I'll be there."
"I know, Jake," you replied, smiling nervously. "I love you."
"I love you too," Jake stated, pressing a kiss to your wedding band. "Let's meet our daughter."
~~~~~
In the waiting area, your family sat around anxiously for news about you and the baby. They were all lounging around, guessing about your status, when the nursery tune played overhead. 
“You think that was them?” Maverick asked Penny.
“It could be. We'll have to wait a little longer to find out.”
~~~~~
"She's here!"
You let out a choked sob, leaning back against the hospital bed as the doctor lifted your daughter up so that you could see her. Jake stood, frozen, as the doctor placed your daughter down on your chest for some skin to skin.
Cuddling your daughter, who was still screaming at the top of her lungs, you laughed incredulously, tears blurring your vision. You held her little head to your cheek, turning to Jake with the most lovestruck expression he had ever seen.
Jake, breaking out of his frozen state, slowly straightened up and pressed a kiss to your lips. You smiled up at him before turning back to your daughter.
“She’s here,” you croaked out, laughing incredulously. “Holy shit, she’s actually here.”
“You did amazing,” Jake praised you, staring down at your daughter with a sense of awe. “She’s . . . she’s so beautiful.” Pressing another shaky kiss to your head, he added, "She’s perfect.”
The next few minutes was a bit of a haze, but soon enough, you were cuddling your daughter to your chest again. Resting your hand on her back and keeping her secure, you smiled to yourself and took in the moment. You looked up at Jake, and smiled, almost feeling like you were on cloud nine.
"Do you want to hold her?" you asked softly.
"Of course, I want to hold her. But did you want more time with her?"
"Just hold your daughter, Jake."
Jake sat down in a chair and a nurse brought your daughter over to him. He took off his shirt and accepted your daughter into his arms. The nurse gave him some quick instructions before stepping back to give the two of them their first moment together. You smiled as you watched them from your bed.
"Hi, sweetheart," he breathed out softly, not wanting to startle her. Gently running his finger through her short hair, Jake sniffled as he felt her move against him. "I can't believe you're finally here." Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he held his head there for a moment. "I love you so much, sweetheart. And I promise you that I'll tell you that every day that I have."
Your daughter stuck her tongue out at him, causing Jake to smile to himself, before turning back to you. 
“I guess it’s not just the two of us anymore,” he stated softly.
“No,” you agreed, looking down at your daughter. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
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