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berberriescorner · 7 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🥰.

Song Inspo💜:

"Let's Go Little Kitty-Kat"

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.

“Call me emotional one more time, Rio.”

“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.

What did y'all think about that roller coaster? Hope you enjoyed it. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, lovelies 💕!

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runnning-outof-time · 4 months

Note

You know I had to do another one! 💙🥂

From the 5 word list, #16 - “Please stay with me tonight.” - with John or Tommy (that's up to you!)

(2 of 2)

Thanks for sending this one in also, Bri! I went with John on it so that I could break to the little Tommy steak that was going on before this! I also may be bending canon a little bit here, but oh well. And I couldn’t resist the silly title. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!

Gangsters Have Feelings…?

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, smoking, one sexual reference

Word Count: 1017

Summary: John calls on (Y/N) when he’s having trouble coping with the decisions of his brother, Tommy. (Y/N)’s quite honestly surprised to see this side of him.

(Y/N) took the moment of pause in the conversation she was having to wonder just how in the hell she’d wound up in this position. She never could have expected that her on the fly befriending of John Shelby one evening at the Eden Club would have led to showing up at his hotel room because he needed someone to talk to.

Hell, this brought on a whole new question…gangsters have feelings?

She hadn’t thought of it before, but it was becoming clear that they did…or this one did at least.

From the second she entered the suite, she knew that John was upset. She felt it. The usual energy that he exuded whenever she was around him was missing, and he wasn’t paying much care to his appearance at the moment. His usual three-piece suit had been exchanged for a pair of slacks and a messily tucked in undershirt.

The reason for his calling became apparent the second she asked him what had been going on. A simple question opened the floodgates of complaints of how his brother had been running the business; putting a much younger cousin in a more respectable position while he and his other brother were expected to keep up with the unmentionable side of things.

“You know I never had any ambition to sit in an office and jerk around over some fucking papers, but it’s just that…that’s me own fucking brother making the calls. I mean…it’s gotta count for something, right?” John started talking again, making (Y/N) focus back in on the conversation.

“It should,” she offered a comment, letting him know that she was actively listening to his plight.

John sighed and carded his fingers through the longer parts of his hair before bringing the cigar he’d been smoking up to his lips. He took a deep drag and blew the smoke out in a steady stream as he peered through the window. “And now Michael’s in the office and Arthur’s in charge of London, and I ain’t got nothin’. Tommy doesn’t care though because all I am is some fuckin’ yes man who takes care of errands for him.”

“I…” (Y/N) stopped herself before she could continue. She didn’t really know what to say. Talking hadn’t been placed that high on the agenda of their previous visits. (Y/N) didn’t really know anything about John Shelby…other than he most certainly knew what to do in bed. So she wasn’t sure what type of can of worms she could open by giving improper advice. She could tell that he was looking for it though; advice. “I’m sure that Tommy cares about you, John. You’re his brother,” she started off with a vague statement.

“That’s about all I am,” John mumbled as he shook his head, his eyes focused on the floor.

(Y/N) sighed as she stood from the chair she’d been sitting on. She silently moved over to the window sill he’d been sitting on and took a seat on the corner of it that had been left open. “Look, John…” she paused again, trying to come up with how she was going to finish the rest of her statement. She hated that she didn’t know exactly what to say. “I don’t know much detail about the area of business that you and your family work in, but I do know the man that you are. I know that you care, that you give your all to what you’re doing, and that you’re damn good at it.” She didn’t take his eyes off of him after she finished speaking, watching for any little movement he might make.

Instead of saying anything, John just shook his head. It didn’t seem as though he was shaking off her statement, but rather shaking his head at the situation in general.

“John,” she spoke his name like a breath, hoping that he’d at least look at her. She was really struggling with what more she could add in to help the situation. There had to be some reason he called her to come over, right?

Thankfully, her attempt worked, and he lifted his downtrodden eyes up to match hers. The hopeless expression that was etched into his features made her frown, and she couldn’t stop from reaching out and cupping his cheek with her hand. She brushed her thumb against his skin while keeping eye contact, hoping that her comforting actions would make up for the fact that she had no clue of what to say.

Some time - (Y/N) wasn’t even sure how much - passed before she spoke again. “John, I’m sorry…I want to help, but I’m struggling with what more I should add,” she finally came clean, explaining her internal dilemma before she sent a sympathetic look his way.

“You comin’ here is help enough, love,” he answered her, leaning into her touch. His statement made the smallest smile form on (Y/N)’s face, and that alone helped him start to forget about his woes.

“I…um…” she stuttered over her words as she tired to think of what to say next.

“Please stay with me tonight,” John - thankfully - cut her off. The sentence, which was usually asked as a question, was spoken by the Birmingham gangster as a statement.

“You want me to?” she checked before giving her answer.

“I need you to,” he answered with a reworded version of her statement.

(Y/N) thought for a moment. This question - that John had been asked her many times before - sounded different now. He needed her in a way that he hadn’t before. The thought of that made her heart start to beat faster.

“Will you?” he asked after a few beats had passed.

“I will,” she nodded, sending him a smile.

“Thank you,” he breathed, taking her by surprise as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She didn’t pull back from it though, immediately kissing him back. “Thank you, (Y/N),” he pulled away just enough to say before his lips were on hers again.

**taglists are added in the reblogs!

MASTERLIST

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby x y/n #john shelby blurb #john shelby imagine #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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skzstannie · 4 months

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"I will wait for you"

SKZ-> Felix x fem!reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, almostttt s2l wc: ~2,500 cw: a little bit of blood (reader gets hurt), mentions of panic and anxiety, mentions of toxic relationship, mostly just Felix being s’cute tho

summary: a day in the life with Felix as you recover from your previous abusive relationship

A/N: Hiii! Here is the awaited part 2 for “I’ll take care of you”. I hope you all enjoy! All feedback and likes/reblogs are much appreciated!

Happy scrolling! | Masterlist

"Felix, I really don't need all this stuff," you sigh, watching him drag all the things he bought you into your room.

"That's ok, I want you to have it. You deserve it," he replies, his voice strained as he pushes your dresser into place.

As nonchalantly as his words come across, you've decided to permanently engrain them in your head.

Felix has been showering you with words of affirmation for the last few days, and that's the one he used most often.

"You deserve to have the door opened for you."

"You deserve to be taken out for lunch"

"You deserve to be treated like a princess, so please let me."

What may seem like the simplest things to anyone else meant so much to you. Your ex was your first boyfriend, so you've never experienced the love Felix has been showing you. As foreign as it all seems, you urge yourself to get used to it. You want to believe what he says.

You want to trust Felix.

After your breakdown a few nights ago, Felix convinced you to break up with your boyfriend. You sent him a short text, telling him it's over and to not expect to see you again. His texts came in quickly after, sending you countless threats. You contacted the police shortly, and they told you they'd handle it.

The next day, the police called you and informed you your ex had been given a warning and told not to bother you again. They reassured you that they do not take this type of situation lightly and to trust them. The cop told you if your ex ever gave you any trouble, give them a call and they'll take care of it.

You knew you could've pressed charges; you had evidence of the years of abuse he put you through. However, you didn't want to deal with all the extra work that would go with that. You knew your ex deserved to be charged. He'd put you through hell for so long, no one should get away with that.

But, you were also yearning for some peace of mind. You wanted to forget about him, to move on. He didn't deserve the right to take up any space in your mind. You just wanted to live your life peacefully, out of the grasp of your abuser.

Felix has practically been glued to your side ever since that night, only leaving to go to work during the day. He was quick to invite you to stay in his apartment, giving you the spare bedroom.

You explained to Felix that you had absolutely no interest in going back to your old apartment to get your things, and in response to that, he bought you everything new. New clothes, new sheets, new electronics. It was really all too much, but he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"You should start hanging up those clothes in your closet; they'll wrinkle if they stay in those bags much longer." He wipes his forehead, working up a sweat while helping you put your room together. You look to your bed, fully decked out in the nicest set of sheets you've ever seen with the fluffiest pillows resting against the headboard. The clothes are piled high on top of it, bag after bag spilling out with the varying pieces of fabric.

At the mall with Felix, he tried to drag you into all the expensive stores, telling you he only wanted you to have the nicest things, but you had to put your foot down sometime. So, with a pout adorning his face, he followed behind you through your favorite stores, stores where the least expensive thing didn't cost $150. You picked up the clothes you thought would look good on you, trying them on in the dressing room, fully expecting to be paying for your own stuff. After all Felix had already done for you, you'd never expect him to pay for your clothes.

Being the gentleman he is, though, he was able to whip his credit card out long before you were able to find yours in your purse.

You vividly remember the shy look he gave you as he'd handed his card to the cashier, batting his eyelashes at you in a silent plea of forgiveness.

"There are hangers in there already, so don't worry about that. If you need more, I have more in my room," he plops down beside the bags on your bed, peeking inside them.

"Thank you again, Felix, for all of this," you tell him, your eyes soft as you watch him get comfortable on your bed.

"You're very welcome."

~ ~ ~

You've finally finished organizing your closet, and it's honestly perfect. Color coded shirts line the rack, hung with nice white hangers, and your pants and shorts are folded in your beautiful dresser. You let out a sigh of relief and turn to view the rest of your bedroom, your eyes scan the room, and your heart thrums with satisfaction.

Everything is beautiful, from your sheer curtains covering your window to the gorgeous oak desk, your computer sitting atop it. Your gaze shifts to the sleeping boy on your bed and your features soften with adoration. Not wanting to wake him up, you crawl in beside him. He's laying crooked across your comforter, but you wiggle your way onto the corner of your bed under the covers.

You're amazed at how drastically your life has changed in just a few days. Only a week ago you feared for your safety every time you walked through your door, leaving you laying with wide eyes most nights.

Now, you've never felt safer as your head hits the pillow and you drift off to sleep.

~ ~ ~

You abruptly sit up in bed, your hand coming up to clutch at your chest. Your breaths come out in short huffs, your quick pulse matching your ragged breathing. Felix, having moved sometime during the night to get under the covers, is already sitting up beside you. His reaction is immediate, his hands coming up to softly grip your shoulders.

Images of your ex run rampant in your mind, clouding the safety you felt just hours before. Your eyes dart to the closed door of your bedroom, scared he'll burst through.

"Hey, it's okay. Everything's locked; no one can get in here," he assures you, seemingly reading your mind. "Are you okay?" he asks, his eyes frantically searching your panicked ones.

"Yea, I'm fine," you're voice is hoarse, the remnants of sleep slipping through your words. "Just a nightmare."

"Must've been some nightmare, then. You were screaming before you woke up. Scared me half to death," he tells you. Becoming more aware of yourself, you feel how your body is damp with sweat, your hair matted at the back of your head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It was just my ex. I don't-" you become choked up at the thought of it, "I don't really want to talk about it."

You hold eye contact with him, his thumbs running along the side of your arms. He has a look of understanding on his face, and, in this moment, you are so glad he stole your coffee that fateful day.

He's saved you. Whether he'll take the credit or not, without Felix you'd still be in the same toxic relationship. Hell, you had already given up, just accepting the fact you'd spend the rest of your life with a monster.

That man had starved you of loving affection for years, so for you to end up in the presence of Felix was a blessing.

"Can you just hold me?" your voice is weak, trembling a bit as you try to shake the nightmarish thoughts from your head.

There's no hesitation as Felix pulls you into his warm embrace, one hand coming up to grip the back of your head while the other rubs affectionately up and down your back. "Of course I can."

Eventually the two of you lay back down with you still residing in the comfort of his arms. You lay in silence for a while, but when you realize sleep isn't going to come easy, you whisper to Felix, "Are you awake?"

He hums back to you, squeezing you a bit tighter for a moment. "Yea," his voice is deep as it rumbles through his chest.

"I can't sleep." Your fingers reach up to play with the bottom of his shirt, toying with a string that's come loose along the side.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Do you want to get up?"

You look to the clock you have on your bedside table, and it reads 6:30 A.M.

You think for a moment before deciding that, in your disheveled state, 6:30 is an appropriate time for you to get up. "Sure," you answer, pulling away from him and moving the covers off your body. "I was planning on making you breakfast before you woke up, but since you're already up, wanna make it together?"

Luckily enough for both of you, neither of you have work today as it's Saturday.

"I'd love to."

He sits up as well, stretching his arms up high while letting out a groan. Your eyes travel down to his body, stopping on his toned stomach that peaks out from the bottom of his shirt.

Of course you've always known Felix was attractive, but now that you're officially single, Felix has been looking especially good lately. However, you do have some respect for yourself, and you know you need time to heal before jumping back into another relationship.

But that doesn't mean you can't find him hot as hell.

You blink out of your trance and blush when Felix's eyes are already settled on you. "Breakfast?" he smirks, his eyes crinkling.

"Breakfast."

~ ~ ~

"Felix, that's way too much butter," you laugh, watching him throw slice after slice of softened butter into your hot pan. "We're not trying to deep fry them."

"My members and I made them like this one time, and they were good," he pouts.

You gently take the butter out of his hands, putting it down beside the stove. "I think they'll taste even better this way."

You guys continue on, and the pancakes come out tasty, topped with sweet syrup and some butter. As you're bringing yours and Felix's empty plates to the counter, your hip accidentally bumps into the sharp edge of the counter, and you cry out in pain. The dishes slip from your grasp and crash to the floor, shattering the ceramic into tiny pieces.

Tears well in your eyes immediately, your heartbeat picking up in intensity. You fall into a state of panic, anxiety sweeping your consciousness.

Your movements are robotic as you bend down, picking up the shards with your bare hands. You’re careless, and the sharp slivers cut through your palm as you hold them.

Felix doesn't let this go on long, immediately crouching beside you. He unwraps your tightly closed fist, and he gasps at the blood covering your delicate hand.

"Babe, you've cut your hand," he sighs, his sad eyes roaming your blank face.

You've tuned him out though, your anxiety still holding the reigns. You involuntarily flinch when he brings his hand up towards your face. His hand stops midair, freezing just near you cheek.

He's frozen still as he watches you with desperate eyes. Your blank stare is locked on the ground beside you, the broken pieces still littering the ground there. "You're ok, I'm not going to hurt you."

His soft words bring you out of your daze, and when you finally look to his him, you finally allow the tears to fall.

Once he sees that you're aware of him and who he is, he allows himself to reach out to you again, wiping your falling tears. He lightly grasps your elbow, pulling your crouched form into his.

Your emotions run wild as he holds you.

How could you think that Felix would hurt you?

"I will never hurt you," his voice cracks, and you feel how your shoulder dampens from his tears.

"I know Felix, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Healing will take time, and I want to be there with you through it all, the good and the bad. Okay?"

You sniffle, nodding your head yes.

"Okay, good. Let's get you cleaned up." He helps you up, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers together. He leads you to the bathroom, where he pulls out a little first aid kit from below the sink.

Looking back to you, he pats the toilet seat, silently asking if you'll sit.

You walk the few steps from the doorway to the toilet seat, and plop yourself down.

He brings your hand up towards the sink, a bottle of alcohol in his other hand.

"This will probably sting a bit, but only for a second."

He slowly pours the liquid onto your palm, and it takes everything in you not to pull away. Your face grimaces as the stinging continues, the alcohol running of the ends of your fingers.

The nice white porcelain of the sink is stained red now as your blood swirls down the drain. Felix lets the water run, swishing it up onto the sides of the sink to get rid of the residue.

He grabs the towel hanging behind him, bringing it to your palm to get rid of the excess moisture. His touch is so gentle, his hands treating you like glass.

He opens the first aid kit again, grabbing some wrap and a few bandages. "I'm gonna put these on you and then put this wrap around your hand. I think the bandages will just fall off if I don't wrap them," he explains, waiting for you to give the 'okay' for him to continue.

You hum at him, agreeing, and he gets right to work.

Just a few minutes later, your hand feels as if it's been expertly bandaged by some healthcare professional, and your heart sores with adoration as you admire the man in front of you.

"How lucky I am to have met you," you tell him, a soft smile adorning your lips.

"Not as lucky as I am," he smiles back, pulling you up from your seat to give you a comforting hug.

Your hands land on his chest, creating a slight gap between the two of you.

Your eyes drift down to his lips, his tongue darting out to wet them.

"I really wanna kiss you right now..."

"But..?" his hands grip your waist, holding you tightly.

"But, I feel like it wouldn't be fair for you or me. I need time. I need time to really find myself again," your eyes are filled with sorrow as they make their way up Felix's face. You take note of the way his cheeks have turned rosy, his freckled face tinted with the cutest shade of pink.

"I respect you, wholeheartedly, and if that's what you want, I will wait for you."

"You will?" years of emotional abuse have affected your ability to trust, but you remind yourself that this is Felix you're talking to. He's never given you a reason not to trust him.

"I will. Forever and ever if I have to."

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #skz imagines #lee felix #stray kids felix #felix x reader #part 2/2 #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz angst #strangers to lovers #skz felix #felix

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celestialtarot11 · 4 months

Text

The Saturn-pluto aspect

• Hi friends. Welcome back to another post 💘🤗Today we’re discussing the saturn-pluto aspect. I feel this is the least aspect talked about, so I’ve decided to shed light here. I know some of ya’ll have it. Anyway! Enjoy. Feel free to like, comment and reblog 🧘‍♀️🤍

🌖 Both saturn and pluto are intense planets in their own way. Saturn and pluto are malefic, and cause great turbulent change. Those with saturn pluto aspects have experienced a gratifying loss, grief, and intense loneliness. These natives have experienced dark moments in their life

🌒 At least one or more authority figures wanted this native to conform to their idea of success, and placed restrictions on the native. The native was shut out, and feelings weren’t allowed to be expressed. Saturn is restrictive, and for many years the native grew up unable to speak up and move forward it seems. Even when away from the hurt, the native lives in a certain time period affected by it all.

🌓 Since saturn rules the father, the father may have been careless about finances, wealth and could have hid his financial situation. The father could have been paranoid, lived a single life at some point, and faces depression. The father bears a huge responsibility, or sees the native as one, and pressures the native to take care of themselves. The father is incapable of stability, mentally and emotionally and expects the native to take care of him.

🌔 Becoming aware of unconscious dynamics in the natives mind is important in this lifetime. While saturn delays, brings opposition, and constraint, saturn also teaches long term discipline, stability and reliability in oneself. As the native learns about their weaknesses and strengths, and continues to build from their past, they strengthen themselves. They adapt to new wisdom, develop their skills, and can maintain their core.

🌘 But also, pluto can just as easily bring chaos, disruption and fast paced changes. The native never knows whats next, and following the unknown is a guiding point in their lifetime. The native is here to understand their role, position and inner core despite these changes in their life. Despite it all, the native accepts they may not know whats next, but they are sure of themselves, and how much they healed to be in the present moment.

🌜 The native will realize a lot of their structural foundations in life fell apart, because it was not strong originally. There may have been illusions of it being strong and fortified, but eventually the native cannot escape what the truth is. Saturn wants to guide and help the native break free from illusion, misconceptions in the mind, and rebuild the way the native needs. Pluto will create the necessary changes and action to invite what mental constraints the native has, in order to release it.

🌛 The native may also find that they receive criticism, pressure and expectations from their boss/ authority figures. Saturn shows where we need to mature and grow. Natives can resent authority positions not just in career, but family as they become afraid of being what hurt them.

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#devi post #astrology #astrology community #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot deck #tarot #witchcraft #tarot reading #astrology observations #astro posts #astrology notes #astro notes

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keysorsomething · 5 months

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Before the Sun Rises / Caught

1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 6

The double feature chapters I wrote :) Just wanna say thanks to everyone who's supported these fics, it makes me very happy to see all the likes and reblogs !!

Cross-posted on ao3

Before the Sun Rises

You awake the next morning with no pressure on your chest and nothing in your arms. Still half-asleep, you look around the room. You’re disoriented, like when you take a three-hour nap in the middle of a weekday and wake up covered in sweat and unaware of the concept of time. One thing you catch is that the room is still dark, but you would guess that it’s always dark in here. You haven’t seen a window, after all. You start to rub the sleep from your eyes, fighting a yawn as you try to find the man who seems to have disappeared into the night. Melting into the darkness, as he had each time before.

“Nikto?” You ask, sitting up. Or at least you try, before strong hands meet your shoulders and shove you back into the pillow. You spot his blue eyes staring down at you almost ridiculing, clearly not pleased with your attempt to get out of bed. It’s almost startling, the speed and force with which you’re slammed back, not the hardest you had been slammed into something, but it was sure lacking any form of gentle grace you would expect from the motion. In this context at least. But you’re too tired to really think about the strength in him like you had before or to think about how he had seemingly teleported into your sight and personal space with no sign of where he was prior.

“Stay,” Nikto’s voice growls out. You look up at him, confused and groggy. He lowers himself back on the bed, and then back onto your chest. “I was not done,” He huffs, taking the sleeve of your shirt between two fingers. He pulls on the fabric, turning it over in his hand. His eyes narrow at it, as if your sleeve had offended him.

“Okay,” You mumble, letting your eyes fall back shut. You spend a while like that, enjoying it. Laying on your back with him on your chest, feeling the gentle pull of his hand as he busies himself with your shirt sleeve. It’s a moment of peace, expanded when he stops pulling at your sleeve - it was actually kind of annoying - and instead, his hand rests on your bicep, unmoving. He lets out a soft sigh, and you assume he closed his eyes too. Your breathing synchronizes, as your hand goes back to rubbing his shoulders like you had been doing the night before.

“You will come back tonight,” He states firmly, breaking the shared moment of silence. Your eyes shoot open and your hands pause, unsure how exactly to respond. You did want to come back again. Hell, you wanted to move in with him. You dare to even think you want the world to melt away, for time to be this moment and this moment alone, always and forever, but should you really let him boss you around like that? Should you just agree? Should you agree enthusiastically, with a ‘yes, sir!’? Or do you say no on principle?

“Can you ask nicely?” In a patronizing tone is what comes out of your mouth instead. Like a mom talking to a toddler who just demanded ice cream or something. You don’t have many references for modern-day parenting in the army. Maybe you shouldn’t compare those two things, that was kind of weird. But it wasn’t mansplaining patronizing - and you knew mansplaining, since that was the only thing that came out of Graves’ mouth - it was the other kind. You had no other words for it.

Nikto groans, presumably rolling his eyes, “You will please visit us again tonight,” He corrects, but he doesn’t seem all too happy about it. “пожалуйста?” He breaks out the big guns. How do you deny a masked man who’s speaking in his mother tongue? It may be your biggest weakness.

You sigh, conceding, “Okay. I will,” And he lets out a pleased rumble. A sound you could very much get used to.

“Now go back to sleep,” He huffs grumpily. “пожалуйста..?” You almost listen instantly, but then another thought pops into your head.

“What time is it?” You ask, the thought of being caught once more nagging at the very back of your psyche. He lets out another less-than-pleased huff of a breath at you, this time through his nose. But, hey, is he really blaming you for worrying about both your careers? His head shifts so his eyes meet yours better, and you see a small smudge of eye black left over from him watching it on his right eyelid, hugging the lash line. It almost looks like eyeliner. You also see the curve of his nose. That is skin that is clearly scarred, looking like it would be rough to touch. Healed burns, probably. Chemical burns that stretch over from the right of his face. You aren’t too sure how the mask is doing that, as all of the points where it attaches to the blast plate seem intact, and it’s only a small dip from where it normally sits. You decide not to comment on it, however.

“Early. Four-fifty or so,” He replies firmly. “I would not let you overstay your welcome,” His words are aggressive in phrasing but soft in tone. An odd combo he seems to use often, which you can’t be sure if that is just him or because he isn’t a native English speaker. But, his brows soften too, his hand sliding up but hesitating to make contact with your face or hair. It retreats away. When you look into his eyes, you feel like he wants nothing more than to touch you, and you feel he agrees that this moment is ever so precious. But he doesn’t want to touch you. Perhaps he’s afraid, or perhaps he doesn’t like his face being touched, so he won’t touch yours. The Golden Rule and all that. But you still smile softly down at him, gently rubbing his back. A silent encouragement to do as he pleases, one that is not listened too. After just a beat, you speak again. There’s no point in making the fleeting movement a whole ordeal.

“Well, wake me up when I have,” You tell him, trying to keep your voice low and comforting, the way he likes. He nods in response, eyes staring up at you warily. You both share for a moment the fear of being found out, but you don’t voice it to him. And he does not voice it back.

“Of course,” Nitko mumbles, sliding back into the position he was before your question. You chuckle, wrapping your arms tight around him as he matches the gesture, and lean your head into his. You take a deep breath, letting the whole moment sink into you. The warmth and weight of the man on your chest, the sound of his breathing, the feeling of the cold, hard blast plate against your cheek. It’s all the best thing to ever happen in this place, and you have a feeling it’s the best thing to have ever happened to him.

You sigh, it's nice to share this moment with him. Every moment over the past few days had been precious. You let your head fall back - you had been keeping it up to look at him - but keep your eyes on him as best you can. You still your hand on his back, letting your arm fall limp. He shifts his head slightly on your chest, fully committed to using you as a pillow. The image of him and his peacefully rising chest is wiped away by your eyes falling back shut.

---

Caught

You reawaken to a soft patting of a gloved hand on your cheek. Your eyes open to Nikto just a few inches from his face, his hand gently twapping your cheek to wake you up. You groan, your muscles stretching as best you can under the weight.

“It is time you leave,” He mumbles, but you can see the disappointment in his eyes. “You do not have much time to get back to the barracks before the rest wake up.”

You pout, blinking up at him, “…How come you get a room all to yourself? It’s not fair,” You mumble, closing your eyes. His bed was so much more comfortable than your cot. And it was so much better than sleeping in a room with multiple other people. Just you and him. There’s a moment where you desire much more of this. So much more of this, in a much more domestic manner, but that fantasy is short-lived by a second round of pats on your cheek that don’t relent until your eyes open back up.

“It was a specific request,” Nikto replied, eyes narrowed on you as he tries to keep you from falling back asleep. As always, they are an icy blue that doesn’t match the feeling of having them on you at all. But by now they feel so much cooler than before, like a warm hug or a heated blanket instead of a hot iron. “I told them I would not take the job if they did not accommodate me.”

You nod, rubbing your eyes with a huff. That makes sense, you think. He seems like the guy to do that. Your eye opens now that your hand isn’t over it, and he hasn’t moved. Something a part of you deep inside is grateful for. You don’t know how well you could cope if he was gone just like that. Like how he had appeared earlier. That thought doesn’t last long, none of them do. He was just so much to think about. His eyes are wide, wild as they look down at you. He seems to think that you’re a lot to think about too. Or perhaps you’re assigning that to him, like when people speak for dogs and cats. You’ve been doing that with him a lot more often since that night in the armory. His eyes get a little less wide, and then even less wide. Until his eyes look closed, but you can tell they’re still partly open. God, he has pretty eyelashes.

He then, all at once, presses his still-masked face into yours. The fabric of the mask covering his mouth is rough against your lips. There’s no movement under it, almost as if he’s just smooshing his lips into yours like he isn’t sure how to do it. You feel the cold metal of the blast plate pushing into your forehead like a headache. It almost hurts, but there’s no way it’s enough. Somehow being too much and too little, but not just right. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek, but you don’t get the chance too. You didn’t even get the chance to close your eyes or lean into the kiss. It’s gone all at once, the same way it came. The pressure on your chest where he was laying there, on your forehead where the protruding parts of the metal dug into your skull, the rough fabric almost painfully hot on the skin of your lips, all of it. He pulls away before you can fully process it, before you can take it in for all of its glory. He rolls off of you, laying on the bed next to you facing away, partly curled up. You have to take a moment before you can do anything. You just kissed the Nikto. No, you were just kissed by The Nikto.

“Nikto?” You ask, voice soft and wavering, like if you speak too loud you’ll create a rip in space-time and it will have never happened. He cuts you off before you get any more in.

“Go,” He responds gruffly, and you nod, pulling off the bed. You’re a little stunned, and you do have places to be. You’d be worried that he was upset with you, but you have a feeling he’s just processing it, the same as you. Maybe he’s worried you’re upset with him? You almost feel like you need to cover up, and are subconsciously pulling the covers with you as you try to. You notice when you almost trip, but you catch yourself and throw them back on the bed. You take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself before speaking. And before leaving. You had appearances to keep up once you got back to the barracks and you had the three musketeers riding your dick.

“Okay,” You squeak, backing away. Your voice sounds so much more pathetic than you wanted it too, and you really can’t be having that. “See you tonight,” You say very quickly, hoping he’ll know you aren’t upset with him. You then promptly spin on your heels, and swing the door open. You go to step out of the room when you come face to face with a chest. You look up with a soft curse, only to find judging blue eyes staring back at yours from under a makeshift mask. The eyes are hard, angry. You’re in trouble.

“Oh, good morning, Colonel,” You manage to get out through a panicked breath. His arm is raised, you had interrupted him mid-knock. He lowers it, and it’s easy to tell his scowling down at you, eyes narrowing further. He bends slightly at the waist, and you hear the fabric shift and Nikto starts to speak when the room behind you goes silent. König looks behind you, and then back down at you, inching ever closer.

Then, you hear your voice hissed through teeth, a heavy Austrian accent filling your ears.

#call of duty #nikto cod #cod mw2 #nikto x reader #nikto #cod nikto

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 days

Text

From Away 1

Warnings: this series will include dark elements which may include noncon or dubcon and other untagged triggers. Mind the warnings.

Summary: you apply for a job with a rather eccentric boss.

Character: Harald Halfdansson

Big thanks to those who read! Feedback always helps inspire and you know I’m always happy to chat about possibilities! Please reblog and comment ❤️

Courtesy tag: @alicedopey

For a country built forged in centuries, everything feels so sparkly and new to you. A new home, a new world, at least for a while. It is all so splendid and wonderful. And expensive.

So it is that you head off with a fold in hand and your purse bouncing against your hip. You have a job interview. A very interesting one though the commute promises more than enough time to prepare. Rather, to overthink.

You can’t complain. It sounds like an interesting opportunity. A dream job you couldn’t hope for back home. There weren’t any historical sites that popular to require excessive staff.

You stand at the stop just outside your building. You need to catch a connection at the downtown center and another in an area you’ve never been before. After that, there’s a bit of a walk but you could use a reason to exercise.

The bus pulls up and you smile at the driver as you scan your pass. You find a seat though it isn’t hard. Most are empty this early in the morning. You hug your bag in your lap and watch the streets pass by as the driver chugs along, stopping and starting until your reach the core of the old city.

You nearly miss your transfer and sit breathless on the second bus, measuring your heartbeat until it’s calm again. The close you get, the worse your nerves are. The last interview you had was for this very opportunity. Just to go on exchange, you had to sit in front of a panel and answer questions about why and how and so many things. You can do it, right?

The third bus takes you into the hills, lush green against the grey blue sky, some rocky peaks in the distance. The landscape here is rich and varying. Back home, you can find a similar spectrum of backdrops but the distance in between is vast.

Last stop on the route before it circles around and you get off with a thanks to the driver. You step onto the gravel apron of the back road and check your phone. You don’t have a signal up here but you have the directions saved. Just in case. You follow the steps up towards your destination. It’s not easy to miss as the old fortress stands sentinel at the top of the jutting incline.

Kastali Castle. A bit redundant upon translation; ‘Castle Castle’. In your research, you discovered that the fort was built on a millenial foundation of an old viking village, since updated over the centuries by warlords and kings, and burnt many times over by invaders. You shuffle through the history in your head, trying to sort the timeline as you approach the low stone barrier along the lower tier of the property.

The gate is open. On the other side, sheep graze lazily across the grass. You’ve learned since your arrival that the creatures have free reign of the countryside. They may eat and wander where they might. You stop to fawn at a younger lamb. The animals can be a bit ornery but they’re cute.

You turn back, looking up at the high foundations and carry on along the steep path. As you get to the large wooden door that would let you through the tall inner walls, you hesitate. You can’t just let yourself in but you don’t know where to go. You check your phone, thinking to call the number in the email but your bars are still empty.

“Invaders, ho!” A holler breaks the earthly hue and you step back to look up at where the voice erupted from. There’s a figure above you, so high you have to crane your neck painfully. You continue to back up until you can see the man above. “Are you lost, fair maiden? Or do you come upon a quest?”

You blink, nearly giggling at his flowery way of speaking. His accent lilts his words peculiarly.

“Um, I have an interview,” you yell back up, the effort making your throat thrum. You’re not much for raising your voice. “With, er,” you look down at your phone. You hadn’t saved the email.

“Harald,” he calls back down, “yes, he is expecting you.”

The man disappears and you stare up into the sky after him. You can hear creaking and cracking then silence. You lower your head and look straight ahead, waiting. The arched door opens with a long whine and the same man appears before you, his cheeks slightly flushed as he gives a crooked grin. His weathered skin is marked with blue black ink along one side of his face. A nordic symbol you can’t decipher.

“It is I, Harald,” he offers his hand, “the keeper of Kastali.”

“Oh, uh,” you shake his hand and give your name in return.

“Lovely name, lovely,” he squeezes before he lets you go, “and a curious accent I here. American? No, no, speak for me again.”

You blink at him dumbly, “um, okay, I don’t know what to say, sir.”

“Irish,” he jabs his finger into the air. “I hear the twang.”

“No, sir,” you laugh, “Canadian.”

“Ah, the great north,” he booms, “yes, I see. Forgive my assumptions.”

“It’s okay,” you grip your bag and shift your weight nervously. “Thank you for the interview, sir, this place is really cool.”

“Interview?” He squints, “is that what I said? No, no, you’re hired.”

“What?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have time for an interview,” he shakes his head, “I need help. Forthwith.”

“Oh, right, maybe I misread--”

“Let’s forget that, unless...” his brows rise and his forehead lines, “you do not want the job?”

“No, no, I do,” you assure him, “I just wasn’t expecting to start today.”

“Yes, you are not dressed well for chasing away Gustav.”

“Gustav?” You echo.

“You will know him. He is a dark cloud on this place. If you do run into him, well, run in the other direction,” he girds, “well then,” he moves to stand with his back to the door, holding it open, “let’s begin with the tour, the we will worry about all else.”

“Oh, sure, um, right. Cool,” you pass through the door and he eases the door shut behind him. As the old brass latch clanks, you wince.

“Wow,” you look around at the interior walls, “it’s so big. It must be a lot of work. How many people work here?”

He laughs heartily and claps his hand on his chest, “just me. Well, you too, now.”

“Just you?” You gape over at him. It’s only then your notice that his hair is much longer than you thought. It hangs, bounded in golden hoops, down his back, much like an ancient warrior fashion.

“The king of my own castle,” he winks over at you, “let’s not waste any more time. We have much to do.”

#harald halfdansson #dark harald #dark!harald #harald x reader #vikings #au #drabbles #series #from away

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godkeis · 1 year

Note

hello! Can I req Dazai (and anyone else u wish!) caring for a sick s/o? I’ve recently gotten sick and oh my gosh I have been horrific and need some fluff 😮‍💨 remember to take care of urself and to keep hydrated!!

CARING FOR SICK S/O

genre: fluff, slight angst | headcanons

character: dazai osamu

warnings: none

author's note: oh dear 🥺 please do get a lot of rest! make sure to also drink lots of water and eat healthy foods, wishing for you fast recovery 🙏🏻

reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated! 🫶🏻

Knowing how keen Dazai is when it comes to observing anything literally, you won’t be able to hide the fact that you’re feeling a lot much more horrible the moment he laid his eyes on you

“Oh, my dear belladona! Please don’t move, you’ll break yourself!”

“Dazai, it’s just a fever.”

“No! Fever is one of the many causes of death in the world! C’mere I am taking you home and you’re resting.”

Despite Dazai’s usual playfulness, he’s keeping inside the whirling emotion of worry; the least thing he wants to see is his precious person and the love of his life looking weak and pale in front of him; Man cannot stand the fact that you’re feeling horrible yet, still wanted to proceed with your daily routine

Once home, he’ll have you lay down on his mattress and will check your temperature using the back of his hand pressed against your forehead

“Oh my, you’re burning up”

“Dazai, it’s just a fever you don’t have to wo–”

“Or does my belladonna wants to be strapped in bed so you won’t be able to move?” he’ll tease you with the most annoying grin plastered on his face; of course, he’s not Dazai without messing with you

With that, you won’t have a choice but to let him take care of you; he may not look like it but Dazai exactly knows what to do

We all know that Dazai likes to order people around to do things for him but this is an exemption; he’ll pick everything up from medicine to food for you personally

He’ll get the best porridge in Yokohama City and will make sure that it is warm enough to your liking; he’s also the type to spoonfeed you if you can’t eat by yourself and that will include him getting a few bites of the said soup meal and your scolding that he’ll catch the fever too if you share the same spoon

Meds will follow and he’ll make sure that you take it on time; seeing you struggle with swallowing the pill makes his face grimace because it must be painful for you; he silently wishes that he get the fever instead of you because he cannot see the fact that you’re struggling so much even with just drinking water

“Rest now, love. I’ll be here right by your side.”

A suicide advocate never lies to his words, he says and he means that; the moment you close your eyes to get rest, he never left your side

He’s sitting beside you, reading the book heaven knows how many times he finished while constantly checking your temperature every hour and changing the cold towel on your forehead

He’ll intertwine his fingers in your hand to warm your skin when he saw you shiverring

Pushing the futon to shield your body from the vibrating air, he’ll place a gentle peck on your cheeks and smile

“Recover well, my lovely belladonna.”

The following day, he’ll persuade you to take off from your school or work to get proper rest and he’ll also seize this chance to get away from the paperwork he left at the agency that Kunikida is probably working on right now with a huge “you’re so dead to me, Dazai” written on his face

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barnesafterglow · 2 years

Text

in the heat of the moment

summary: your boyfriend doesn't treat you right. bucky knows he won't make the same mistake

pairing: boyfriend's dad!bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: age gap (not explicit stated but reader is 21, bucky is 40), infidelity (on reader's end), shitty bf, smut (MINORS DNI) [mention of masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, hand job kinda, pussy job (i hate saying that), penetrative sex, porn with plot with feelings]

a/n: apparently the thought of kinktober awakened something in me, because i sat down and wrote this in one sitting after not being able to finish anything since may. smut is always out of my comfort zone, but i always need the practice. make sure to reblog and comment if you enjoyed this!

main masterlist ─ i know longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibraryand turn in notifications for fic updates! 🤍

You knew it was wrong. You knew you should at least break up with your boyfriend first. It was terrible. You both were terrible. But that didn’t mean you were going to stop.

You knocked on the door of the Barnes’ house, already annoyed. Jacob had promised you a movie night, and of course his car wasn’t in the driveway when you pulled up. You only even knocked on the stupid hope that maybe he was here even if his car wasn’t. But even as you walked up the front steps, texting him to ask if he was home, you already knew the answer.

He had just texted you back sorry babe as the door opened. You nearly dropped your phone at the sight in front of you - Mr. Barnes in a sweat soaked shirt and a pair of shorts with an inseam that shouldn’t look so good on a man his age. Half of you wanted to turn around and run back to your car, the other half wanted him to invite you in. Like an angel and devil on your shoulder, each whispered to you, but you knew what you really wanted.

So when he said, “Oh, hey. Jake’s not here, but you can go ahead and come on in,” you brushed both imaginary friends off you and stepped through the doorway.

“Thanks, Mr. Barnes. Jake bailed on me and I had no clue until I got here.”

As you followed him into the kitchen, you tried not to stare as his back muscles moved under the grey of his t-shirt. You wiped at a wetness on the corner of your mouth and hoped the drool was just a figment of your imagination

“How many times have I told you to call me Bucky?” he asked as he pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, taking a sip. This time you couldn’t help stare as a bead of water trailed down his throat.

You shook your head of the filthy thoughts spiraling - like how it would to have that shirt stick to the skin of your back as he bent you over the kitchen counter and fucked your brains out - and scoffed.

“Probably as many times as your son has been an asshole,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that?” But the half smile on his face told you that he knew exactly what you had said.

“Nothing Mr -, I mean Bucky.” That half smile turned into a full grin that nearly brought you to your knees.

Bucky was, for a lack of better words, a certified DILF. He’d raised Jacob since his mom up and left them when he was three. They had moved to your hometown a year ago, and unfortunately caught Jacob’s eye immediately. At first he was sweet, always doting on you, bringing you little gifts at work, making you smile. Then somehow you ended up here, almost a year later, and you had spent more time with his dad than you had him in months. Every time you came over and Jake had found better plans, Bucky insisted he cook you dinner so you didn’t make the trip for nothing.

Usually, he packed it up and you took several nights worth of meals home with you, but on occasion he would ask you to stay, and you ended up talking for hours.

For a while, you felt weird that you got along better with your boyfriend’s dad than your own boyfriend. Now, you showed up even when you knew Jake would cancel, just to see him for any amount of time.

It started off innocent, really it did. The talks were casual, mundane, about things like how your degree was going and what he was up to at work. Then one night it took a different turn.

You were already two glasses of wine in, even though you should have known this was coming. Jake had forgotten a lot, been distant lately, but you thought for sure you could count on him for your birthday.

Instead, you sat on the couch in his living room for well over an hour, texting him periodically, with no response. You had finally given up, making a move to stand and leave, when Bucky walked through the front door.

His hair was in a disarray, his tie already loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt undone. You knew it must have been a stressful day if he was coming home this late. He took one look at your mascara stained cheeks, and gave a nod towards the couch before disappearing into the kitchen.

You obediently sat back down, and a moment later he emerged with two glasses and a bottle of wine. He poured a healthy amount in each and you both drank the first down in silence. When he poured a second glass and handed it to you, he finally spoke.

“My idiot son?” It was more of a statement than a question. He knew how his son had been treating you, and no matter how much he tried to talk some sense into him, nothing changed.

You nodded, afraid that if you voiced the words then you would crack. The tears were already pushing against your eyes, willing you to let them free. Instead, you swallowed them down and chased them with a healthy sip of wine.

When you had drained half the glass, you finally looked at Bucky, staring into his eyes.

“Your son fucking sucks, Mr. Barnes.” In anger, in frustration, in whatever other emotion overtook you as the wine opened your system, you squeezed your eyes tight and a tear slipped out. You moved to wipe it away, but Bucky was already there.

In a split second, he had moved across the couch and was closer to you than he had ever been before; his thigh pressed close to yours and his thumb stroking the soft skin of your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, like he was telling you a secret. “You deserve better.”

You wanted to pretend you imagined the flicker of his eyes down to your lips, that it was the alcohol making you see things. That would make everything easier. But you couldn’t ignore the cool touch of his hand on your thigh, just below where the hem of your dress ended.

“You deserve someone who’ll treat you better.” He sucked in a breath, contemplating his next words. “In every way.”

His fingers inched higher, daring to slip under the fabric, pushing it up just a fraction up your leg. Your eyes flickered from your lap back to his flushed face, dark eyes staring back at you. He wasn’t hiding it now - his gaze on your lips was clear, and he leaned close enough that you could taste his breath. Just another moment and he -

The front door swung up and you both sprung apart. You stood up quickly, and saw Jake walking into the living room on unsteady feet. When you moved forward to help keep him upright, he all but collapsed in your arms. It wasn’t until you had dragged him halfway to the couch that you realized you had no explanation for the two glasses and a half empty bottle of wine. But when you finally laid him down, there was no trace of them - or Bucky - almost like they had never been there at all.

You had planned to break up with him then. It was the last straw of the last straw of the last straw. You knew it as soon as he wasn’t there to greet you that night. But then Bucky snuck through your mind and tugged on a string you couldn’t ignore. So instead of breaking up with your shitty boyfriend, you kept him around for the sole purpose of getting to see his father.

You figured it was only fair after everything he had put you through.

Now, you had to shake your head to get rid of the memory. But alone in your bed at night, when your hand slipped under the sheets and your breaths quickened, all you could think about was that hand on your thigh, those eyes boring into your own.

“Do you want a drink?” His voice pulled you from your own head and you looked up. He was extending his arm, the water bottle still in his hand.

You started to shake your head, declining him, when a rampant idea took hold. So instead of doing what you knew you should, you took the bottle from him. It was ice cold in your hand, and you winced at the thought of what you were about to do.

When you lifted the bottle to your lips, you purposely tipped it too far, letting the cool liquid spill down the front of your top. You yelped from the sudden cold - and you were sure to Bucky it sounded like surprise - and pulled the bottle back, “accidentally” spilling more. You shrugged your jacket off, letting it fall to the floor, and stood in front of Bucky in nothing but a thin white tank top - now soaked completely through.

He had made a move as soon as he heard you shriek, scrambling for a dish towel in a drawer, but when he turned to hand it to you, he couldn’t take his eyes off your chest.

You hadn’t worn a bra, so the entirety of your breasts were on display, so much that he could see the color peeking around your pebbled nipples. He lightly bit his bottom lip, pressing the towel lightly to your exposed skin, curiously careful not to go any lower, though his staring never stopped.

“I, uh,” His words stuck in his throat. “I can grab you a spare shirt if you want to throw that in the dryer.”

“Thank you so much, Bucky,” you said sweetly. Then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you peeled the soaked tank top off and let it fall on the tiled floor.

One of his hands gripped the counter so hard his knuckles were white, while the other clenched into a fist, trying desperately not to reach out and touch you.

“I’m feeling cold from the water.” You took a small step forward, placing one hand lightly on his chest. The heat radiating off of him was a godsend. “Do you think you could help warm me up?”

You could see the thoughts racing through his mind, trying to decide if this was real, if it was a trick, if it was worth it. And he had his answers in the same instant; yes, no, a thousand times yes.

Before you could even begin to question yourself, he had you caged against the kitchen counter, awe in his eyes as he looked down at you.

He still didn’t touch you anywhere except his arms that crowded your body, but you could tell he wanted to. So you gave him a push, slowly moving your hand under the hem of his shirt, feeling the smooth, hard expanse of skin there. You stroked gently, trailing your hand down until they brushed the waistband of his shorts.

It was like a spark lit up in him, and he dipped his head to capture your lips with his own. You immediately moaned into it, your surprise causing you to grip the band of his shorts, pulling them down enough for you to feel the heat of him.

His hands moved, finally, off the counter, to your sides. They squeezed lightly, like he was testing the waters. But you didn’t want timid or careful; you wanted what you had been craving for longer than you wanted to admit. So you pushed your chest against him, your still hardened nipples brushing the soft fabric of his shirt. His hands moved again - one grazed the side of your face, slightly possessive and guiding your kiss, and the other moved to grip your breast. It was a dizzying mixture of dominance and care, and you didn’t think you had ever been so turned on in your life, let alone from just a kiss.

Sick of wasting time, you let your hands move up to tug his shirt, getting as much off of him as you could in the position you were in. When he caught on, he pulled away from you long enough to pull it up and over his head. You were almost as mesmerized by the sight of him topless and he was with you, and you blinked dumbly until he placed a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“You have no clue how much I’ve wanted this.” There was emotion radiating from him that you couldn’t name; all you knew was it turned your core into molten lava.

“I think I might have an idea,” was your response, and you pulled him down for another kiss. This one wasn’t like the first - wasn’t slow and searching. No, this one was hot and desperate, all the tension from months of time lost bursting open and shattering across the kitchen tiles.

You looped your hands back into your waistband, trying to get them off, but he pulled away, biting your bottom lip lightly as he did.

“Wanna do this right,” he murmured, lips still close enough that you could feel the moment of them as he talked.

“I don’t care. Just -”

“I do,” he interrupted, a touch of a growl in his voice. Then, without a second of hesitation, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder as if it was the easiest thing in the world. You squirmed at first, until he placed a light swat to your ass, and then you let him take you wherever he wanted.

When you felt the soft plush of a mattress beneath your back, you didn’t even have time to register the fact that you had never been in his room before. His hands were already on the button of your jeans while he bent down to kiss you again. Once he had them off your legs, he pulled you to the edge of the bed and kneeled before you.

It was nearly enough to make you come at the sight. Here was this beautiful man, one who could have anyone he wanted, kneeling before you like he was ready to worship. His hands roamed your legs, then he let his mouth follow the same trail. He bit lightly on your inner thigh and he spread you further, until you were fully exposed to him.

He watched you in amazement, bringing his hands up to touch you lightly - to spread you apart and see you glisten with wetness for him. You wiggled your hips a bit, almost uncomfortable with the attention you were receiving. Then his lips met your core and any other thought you had was lost to the wind rustling outside.

His expert tongue and the beautiful feel of beard burn was enough to have you panting, gripping the thick strands of hair on his head.

“Bucky,” you gasped. “I’m gonna -”

But he didn’t let you finish your sentence. Instead, he pushed two fingers into you, and you clenched down around them, unable to hold yourself back. He didn’t stop as you rode your high; he let his head rest on your thigh, looking up at you, keeping the pace of his fingers until you finally came down.

When you could finally begin to relax, he pulled his fingers from you, moving so his body hovered above yours.

“Open.”

You obeyed immediately - something about him made you do it without question - and he gently rubbed his fingers on your tongue. You closed your mouth around him, cleaning your own release from him, and when he pulled them out he immediately replaced them with his own lips.

“Knew you’d be fucking perfect,” he said, and you weren’t sure whether it was to you or himself. You didn’t have time to dwell on it because he was moving you like a ragdoll again, positioning you on your back, your head resting in the fluff of pillows, and he placed his body weight over you.

Almost immediately, your hands went to his shorts, wanting desperately for them to finally be off. And he obliged you, more than ready to give you whatever you wanted.

He quickly pulled the shorts off, and once he was back on the bed, he stood on his knees in between your legs, stroking his painfully hard cock. You reached out almost timidly to replace his hand with your own, and at his low groan, you picked up the pace, twisting your wrist and squeezing lightly. He bit his lip harshly, trying to hold back a damn near whimper at the feel of your hands finally on him.

Then he gripped your wrist, stopping you from ending it too short. Again, he laid his body over yours, careful not to crush you, and you felt the length of him rub against you. Both of you moaned into the kiss you shared - you at the feel of him brushing your sensitive clit, him at the slick feel of your wetness coating him. He moved his hips lightly, keeping that momentum going, until the thrusts started to speed up, and his tip caught at your entrance.

“Please, Bucky,” you gasped, moving your hand to grip him, guiding him to where you were willing and waiting. “I want you so bad.”

Unable to resist - not that he would ever want to - he finally sunk into you. Inch by inch, you whimpered at the sweet mixture of pleasure and pain that the stretch of someone so big brought. Bucky had his forehead pressed against yours, breaths heavy and trying not to hurt you. Once he was fully seated inside you, your eyes met his, and a slight nod gave him permission to move.

He started thrusting into you, gradually at first, alternating between kisses to your lips and trailing them down your jaw and neck; it was like he couldn’t bear to go a moment without his lips pressed to you. Then, as the intensity grew, so did his movements. It wasn’t long until you were moaning without restrain, every breath a mixture of his name and whatever expletive your mind could come up with. You wrapped your arms around him, scratching red lines down his back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

He was mumbling something over and over, his grip on you tightening.

“Come for me, Bucky. Please, I want you so bad. Fill me up.” He moaned, lifting his head to meet your eyes again, when you said the words that sent him hurtling over the edge.

“I’m yours.”

Nothing could have prepared either of you for the intensity of the shatter. Both of you exploded in sync, sparks flying, flames igniting, threatening to burn the goddamn world down. Bucky was an out of body experience, where your only tether was the feel of his body against your own. He lit you up from the inside; threatened to consume you.

And you would let him.

#bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #boyfriend's dad!bucky barnes #mcu #marvel #marvel fanfic #in the heat of the moment #tiff writes

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callsigndragon · 1 year

Text

Desperate times, desperate measures | Ch. 3: Mr. & Mrs. Seresin

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!writer!reader (Most of the times, she will be called Page)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of death, bureaucracy stuff, idiots being idiots, EMMA'S FIRST (and short) APPEARANCE, jake mentions sex once? This is a biiiiiiiig slow burn, man.

A/N: i posted this, but I'm not here lol. small chapter, but at least we have a chapter.

It's okay if you like it and all, but please... a comment is also welcomed and if you reblog it? I'll kiss you on the forehead.

Masterlist

“So you got married recently?” The lady at CPS says, while typing away on the computer.

You clear your throat, looking at Jake before answering. “Yeah, we were planning on getting married in a few months, and our friends were going to help us organize the wedding, but... They’re not here anymore.”

The lady, who you think is called Sandy, looks at you with a sorrowful expression. You want to roll your eyes. How can Jake’s plan be working? When discussing how to approach CPS about your rushed wedding, he said to pull the "our friends died" card. And it’s working.

“I’m so sorry that you had to rush your wedding… I’m sure it was going to be a wonderful event.” She says, turning the chair around once the printer starts buzzing. Once those documents are signed, Emma will be yours. And parenthood will begin as soon as Emma is in your arms.

“We were going to get married at the beach. It was a beautiful place.” Jake replies, placing his hand on your leg, just inches away from your knee. The contact burns your skin, and not in a romantic way.

“Oh my god, a beach wedding? It would have been absolutely beautiful, Mr. Seresin.” The woman says, writing a few things on the document before giving it to you. She’s literally swooning over Jake right now.

Pretty much like all the women you have seen in the parking lot before entering the building.

“I’m just sad that my pretty…girl didn’t get to have the wedding of her dreams.” Jake continues with his lies and his intentions of fooling the CPS worker as much as possible. You’ve noticed the small pause, doubting about the next unsaid word. It feels like pronouncing the words "his" and "wife" in the same sentence was as hard as taking down an enemy aircraft.

“I’m sure you’ll get a chance in the future.” She hands you the papers and two shiny blue pens, pointing to the blank spaces where you two have to sign.

You grab the pen, feeling its weight, twirling it around your fingers, trying to find the perfect position to write with it. It feels uncomfortable, no matter how much you try it. But it’s not the pen that feels wrong.

It’s you, signing a paper where it says that Mr. and Mrs. Seresin are now legal guardians of Emma Hawkins, who doesn’t feel comfortable. Because once this process is over, Emma Hawkins will cease to exist. She’ll be Emma Seresin.

That’s all that's left of them. Their surname. And it will be gone.

Just like they are.

“Well, give me a second, and I’ll bring you your daughter.” Sandy announces with a smile, saving all the files into the folder that is soon stored in a drawer. After that, she leaves the room, the sound of her heels echoing down the hallway.

“My daughter.”

You turn your head slowly in his direction, feeling Jake’s words as your own. “It’s our daughter now.”

“She’s not. She’s my dead friend’s daughter. Not mine.” He clenches his jaw, bouncing his leg up and down, and you wonder if this situation isn’t too much for you too. Maybe they shouldn’t have named you two Emma’s legal guardians.

“Sorry to break it to you, pal. But once the process is over, she’ll have your name. She’ll be your daughter.”

“Where the fuck did I get myself into?” He mutters, covering his face with his hands.

“It was your idea,” you remind him, noticing that you still have the pen in your hand. You leave it on the desk, watching all around the room. They may look after children here, but this is the most boring place you've ever visited. Not even a child-related thing hangs on the walls; there’s only framed certificates and a clock. “I was ready to do this on my own.”

Jake lets out an airy chuckle, getting up from his chair and pacing around the room. “They wouldn’t let you, you know it.”

“I could’ve tried. But now I’m married to you for a fucking year.”

He points a finger at you, leaning a bit over your seated figure. "I will not allow strangers to look after my goddaughter."

You slap his hand away, standing up to look him in the eye. “It’s your daughter, now.”

“You’re fucking annoying,” he mumbles, stepping even closer and not even once darting his eyes away from yours.

“You’re a hypocrite. You don’t want her to be adopted by someone else, but you refuse the idea of calling her daughter.”

Jake clenches his jaw, talking through his teeth. “I’m not a father.”

You pat his chest, whispering slowly your next words. “You’re a husband and a father now, Jake Seresin. Don’t think you can go around and live your life the way you’ve been doing it until now.”

He’s so close now that you can smell his perfume. It smells good. It's strange how his entire being makes you want to vomit, but his essence is pleasant. “So what, you want us to play the loving family, invite our friends for dinner, and when they leave, we end up fucking on every surface of the house?”

You scoff, wondering what the fuck he's on. "Do you intend to do that with your future wife?"

“I don’t know if I’ll have a wife after this horrible experience.”

“You better not. My heartfelt sympathies go out to the poor woman who has to deal with your sorry ass."

“You little–”

Jake's words are cut short when the CPS worker opens the door. You were so engrossed in your conversation that you forgot where you were and why you came here. Did she hear something? Did she hear you say all those things, and she knows that you have lied to her in her face? What are you going to do?

Your body acts on its own, taking advantage of the close distance you two are at, and you grab Jake by the neck, pulling him down so you can kiss him. Two newlyweds kissing? Yeah, nobody will be surprised by that.

As if he knew the intentions behind your actions, his hands move to your waist, pulling you close. Playing the part, like he has been doing all day.

“Oops, looks like mom and dad are having fun!” Sandy says, opening the door entirely with Emma in her arms.

You can see in her little face that, even if she can’t comprehend what has happened, she knows that something terrible has occurred and that her life is not the same. She seems to have been crying, and her cheeks are still wet.

“Oh my god, Emma!” You rush to her, grabbing her in your arms and securing her from the rest of the world. She hangs to you, her tiny fists clenching into your clothes.

It's like she’s trying to hold on and not lose any other member of her family.

“Hey, baby girl.” Jake walks to you, and Emma’s face lights up, emitting gleeful sounds of pure happiness. Jake might be a player and an idiot, but he loves this little girl more than anyone else in the world. “Oh yeah, I missed you too.”

“You can take her home now. I wish you the best for your marriage. I know you’ll last. I can see how much you love each other.”

Jake and you look at each other, raising an eyebrow.

Maybe you should stop writing and start an acting career.

Once you leave the building, you go back home. Well, what now is your home. Anne and Luke’s will said that you had to live in their house. Gabs is there, waiting for you two. She has offered to take care of her all afternoon while you two go to your houses and get all the necessary things.

“How are we doing this?” Jake asks, driving all the way to your house. “We can’t pack everything today.”

You sigh, leaning your head against the window. “I know. And their house doesn’t have room for all my books.”

“How many books do you have?”

“More than I can read,” you confess, earning a snort from the man. “Do you read?”

“When I have time. I don’t read your chick lit romance stuff, so don’t ask me about it,” he says, driving slowly once he enters the street you live on.

“I wasn’t counting on it.”

He parks in front of your house, a place that has been a refuge, and now you have to leave. “You want help?”

You tear your eyes away from the main entrance and look at him. “You offering?”

“I guess if I help you here, and you help me in my house, we’ll be faster. You know Gabby has stuff to do.”

You nod, knowing that he’s right. “Yeah, sure. Come in.”

He turns off the engine, grabs two boxes from the back of his truck, and walks behind you until you reach your doorstep. He chuckles when you open your bag to look for the keys. You turn to look at him, frowning. “What’s so funny?”

“Never thought I’d see the day you’d let me in your house,” he responds, scratching his eyebrow. “Not after that date, at least.”

“It wasn’t even a date. We never got to the restaurant,” you recall, shaking your head at the thought of that horrifying night.

“You didn’t want to go out with me, Page.”

You open the door, enter your house, and turn on the lights. “Actually, I did.”

“You did?”

Why does he sound surprised? “Yeah. Luke said so many good things about you. I was interested in getting to know you better.”

“Miss Page had a little crush on the fighter pilot, huh?” Jake teases, and you grab a pillow and throw it at his head.

“No. And all the chances of me having a crush on said fighter pilot died when he made a booty call while we were still in the car,” you move around the living room, collecting your laptop and charger and some other things you might need.

“I must confess, that was a dick move.” He admits, opening the boxes and leaving them on the sofa. “I’ll go get the edibles from the fridge.”

You watch him walk away, feeling bad for him. You two are acting like idiots one second and being civil the next. You've had too many emotions in the last few days. “Jake?”

He turns around, looking at you. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for being mean to you. You’re having a hard time, like me. And... I'm sorry you’ve lost your best friend.”

Jake’s eyes shine a bit more than usual, the result of the unshed tears that threaten to fall. “Thank you, Page. I’m sorry for saying all those things back in the office. It’s…this isn’t how I wanted to marry, you know?”

You nod. Of course you know. “I write romance novels, Jake. I crave the romanticism and the slow burn and falling in love and…” you sit down, letting out an air you’ve been holding since who knows when. “I won’t have that anymore.”

“In a year, you’ll be free, Page.” He reminds you, leaning over the threshold, arms crossed across his chest, tightening the t-shirt around his muscular biceps. “Just a year.”

“It’s easy for you to say, but… I’ll be a divorced mom in a year. Who wants to marry a divorced mom?”

Jake wants to say something that’ll make you have more confidence in yourself and maybe have hopes for the future, but he knows that there are a lot of men that will run away at the thought of you having a baby. It’s not going to be impossible for you, but it would be complicated.

“You’ll find someone, Page. I’m sure of it.”

“And if I don’t?”

“We’ll think about it in a year, okay? Now pack your things, we still have to go to my house.”

You put all the things you’ve found around the living room in one of the boxes and move upstairs, followed by an uneasy feeling. Maybe you have to enjoy this year. It might be the only opportunity in married life you’ll ever get.

BONUS: Luke and Anne's (Now Jake and Page's) house:

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@startrekfangirl2233

@topgunslut

@clancycucumber230

@books-are-escapes

@alldaysdreamers

@mavrellover91

@soulmates8

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