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#Rosie doesn’t know about these feelings about her
ohtobemare · 7 hours
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just a little Logan drabble—
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There isn’t anything quite like the thud, thud, thud of feminine hurry across the floor—heels at hand, all perfume and curl as “God, I am so late!” bogies from behind. Not anything like it in the world, any world.
There hasn’t ever been in his two hundred-odd years of living. Wildfire of a thing, she’s careening around the house like a bullet for the past fifteen minutes. A plump rosiness has set into her cheeks, icy sapphires sharp as they sweep the house in full arcs.
She’s about to crack by again like a whip, muttering something about needing a list for the store after church. With a practiced, multiple-hundreds-of-years flick of his hand, he grabs her wrist and brings her about face. Pulling her close, chest to chest. Nose to nose.
A light brush of his fingers over her cheek produces a shaky sigh. “Logan,” it’s laced with rush. Hurry. The day to day. Everything he doesn’t want right now, everything this moment is meant to deflect.
“Stop talkin’, sweetheart,” he tips his forehead against hers, a slow smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. Hands skim her sides, fingertips to curves, and he anchored at her hips. Nails curling into denim, he tips your hips forward against his.
His voice is a husk of a low. A shadow, maybe—a shadow cut just for this moment. She’s called this tone once bourbon honey, medicinal and dizzying. “Would you just breathe?” His smile is laced with patience, “You’re movin’ too fast.”
His fingers brush aside her curls, pad of this thumb gently skipping over the apple of her cheek.
He knows she loves these kinds of moments—where he’s still and his voice is low. Where he’s the rock, holding her in place. Welded, like the adamantium in his bones. Very rarely can he actually feel the steel rattling around his insides, but he can today.
“We’re gonna be late,” she murmurs, tipping into his touch. His finger anchors beneath her chin, angling her face to his. Plump, rich lips part just enough to make that low place in his guts turn upside down—stirs his blood to lava.
All he can think about is her taste. How she feels, right now.
“Still movin’ too fast, princess.”
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rosehearts-forest · 4 months
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@heropartnerweek for the prompt New teammate
Daliah has the most biggest crush on Rosie. And she would have died for her.
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I need a bestie who is as mentally ill over animal crossing as I am in the year of 2022
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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“oh, you poor thing…” you murmur, stroking megumi’s hair. he’d been caught in the rain during the walk home yesterday, and had come down with a bit of a cold. the seven year old is curled up next to you on the couch, his head resting in your lap.
you glare at satoru when he scoffs from his end of the couch, the tip of his nose rosy and dripping with snot. “i was caught in the rain too, you know.”
“take some nyquil.”
you don’t even bother to spare his suffering a glance.
“can i have hot chocolate?” the little brat asks, his request followed by a weak cough. “my throat hurts.”
it’s almost ten in the evening, and the kid’s already brushed his teeth. there’s no way you’d say yes—
“of course! i’ll make some for your sister too.”
satoru’s mouth falls open - because he can’t breathe through his nose and because he’s shocked. “can i have some too?”
“i’ll make you tea with lemon and ginger,” you reply, carefully adjusting megumi on the couch as you get up. you even steal his blanket, draping it over the kid’s curled up form.
megumi peeks one eye open as soon as you leave, and satoru swears the smirk that follows is directed at him.
people have told him that kids are supposed to be gifts. but later - when he’s watching a lame documentary and choking down some bitter lemon ginger tea as megumi is spoiled with sips of chocolately heaven - he thinks they must mean gifts from hell.
_____
your lips are brushing over satoru’s collarbone when he wonders if he’d locked the bedroom door.
but then you bite and all his concerns go out the window.
your breath is hot against his skin, picking up when his hands grip your waist. chests rising and falling, the two of you love in sync. slow, deep kisses are exchanged in time with gentle grinds—
“i’m hungry.”
it makes satoru startle, banging his head against the headboard as you sit up, stuttering as you both turn to face the doorway.
“megumi,” you gasp. “how long have you been standing there?”
the blush colouring his cheeks is answer enough.
“i’ll make you something to eat,” you offer, leaving your boyfriend with a very unfortunate situation as you climb off his lap, shooting an apologetic look over your shoulder as you herd megumi out of the room.
satoru swears the kid shoots him a smug grin over his shoulder.
this, he thinks glumly as he heads to the bathroom to try and calm himself down. this is why he needs to stop doing nice things.
_____
exhausted can’t even begin to describe the way satoru feels after a long day of bugging nanami and exorcising curses.
he’s practically dragging his body through the apartment towards the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to strip out of his uniform and fall into bed next to you.
but he can’t, because the first thing he sees when he opens the bedroom door is megumi hogging his side of the bed.
you press your index finger to your lips as soon as satoru opens his mouth to protest. “tsumiki’s at a sleepover,” you explain.
“so? i’ll carry him back to his room—”
you make a noise if protest, waving his hands away as you whisper, “it’s his first night here without her.”
hands on his hips, satoru examines the very little free space left on the bed. “so that means you’d let me sleep on the couch?”
he doesn’t like sleeping alone. hasn’t liked it ever since you’d moved in and he’d decided he liked waking to the warmth of your body next to his.
“well, you could sleep in megumi’s bed.”
“or you could wake him up,” he counters loudly on purpose, earning a shush and a glare from you in answer.
“this is a good thing,” you insist once you’ve ensured the kid’s still asleep. “it means he trusts us!”
“but i’m tired,” he whines, even stamping his foot a little for emphasis. “i wanna cuddle with you.”
“fine,” you relent with a little sigh. “but you have to wake him.”
gleefully, he goes to shake the kid awake. he’s about to do it, but all it takes is one look at the peaceful look settled over that little face. over the year he’d gotten to know megumi, he’s only ever worn a scowl, or a look of general boredom. so to see him like this, finally settled into the household…
it’s enough to make the sorcerer smile, even as he sets up the makeshift bed of blankets on the bedroom floor.
_____
“sharing is caring,” satoru proposes the next afternoon at the dinner table. it’s just him and megumi right now, as you’d just left to visit shoko. “so you can cuddle with her on the couch, but the bedroom is all me, got it?”
megumi frowns, staring at the list (can he even read yet? gojo has no idea) “but what about movie night?”
“fine, but only for a little bit. after that she’s all mine.”
he takes the kids shrug as agreement and moves on.
“knocking,” he starts with the utmost seriousness. “is a very important thing to do when any door is closed. and next time tsumiki is out, you’re the one sleeping on the floor.”
(they both know that’s not going to happen, but it doesn’t hurt to try.)
once the terms of their deal are finalized, they shake on it.
“so we’ve come to an understanding, good. because i’d rather have you as my bro than my foe,” he says, dragging the edge of his thumbnail across his throat for emphasis.
megumi rolls his eyes before sauntering off to his bedroom, and satoru sighs, letting his forehead hit the tabletop with a dull thud.
he’d fought off suitors vying for your attention before, but never one as tough to beat as this one.
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6esiree · 4 months
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“Oh, so your fingers worked when they were inside of me last night, but today they can’t text me back?”
I saw this on Instagram and tried to imagine how my five fav Hazbin men would react if you texted them this. I whipped this up pretty quickly so sorry if it’s crap, LOL <3
Alastor:
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Alastor only has a phone so you can contact him whenever you need to, and he usually answers right away, the only exception being when he’s busy. But the one time he accidentally leaves you on read because he’s out with Rosie, getting sidetracked by an interesting revelation, you decide to hit him up with this and, oh, he’s visibly horrified, flustered even, when he finally reads it.
“Is something the matter, Alastor?” Rosie asks, putting her teacup down as she notices the look on his face. “Oh my! Are you…blushing?”
“Excuse me for just a second,” Alastor says as he stiffly stands up, pushing his seat in and turning away, furiously typing at his phone.
“I am with Rosie. We will talk about this when I get home, understood?”
“Ok, I’ll be waiting for u <3.”
“Kiss your legs goodbye, ma chérie, because you will be unable to walk for a while.”
Lucifer:
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Whenever you go out, you like to text Lucifer to see how he’s doing. This man answers FAST as fuck, that is why the one time he doesn’t you hit him up with this, trying to get his attention. When he finally checks his phone his heart instantly drops—I mean, what is he supposed to feel? He’s a blushing mess as he recalls what you did last night, but he’s also panicking, so he decides to call you.
“Hey, honey! I’m so, so sorry, I was in the middle of something. My fingers work just fine, by the way, I can show you if you come back home—“
“Christ, Luci! I was just trying to get you to answer.”
“Pretty please?”
Husk:
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Husk takes his sweet ass time responding to your texts, so the best way to reach him is to call him. However, it’s just one of those rare occasions where you can’t do that, hitting him up with this to try to get his attention. Husk has company at the bar, that’s why when he finally sees your text he immediately turns his back to everybody, cursing under his breath as he tries to adjust himself through his pants.
“Oh, babydoll. Just wait until you get home,” Husk texts you back, pissed off but also slightly amused, especially when you answer him.
“Haha, ok…whatever u say old man :P.”
“You’re lucky Angel can't mind his own fucking business, otherwise I’d have something to say about that.”
Vox:
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Unless he’s busy with something or he’s pissed off with you, Vox will answer your texts right away. The one time he forgets to tell you he has a meeting, you hit him up with this after trying to reach him for a while. Vox steals a glance at his phone, his screen slightly glitching when he’s asked to put in his two cents about something because he’s flustered. As soon as the meeting is over with, though, he teleports to your room, utterly embarrassed.
“I was in a MEETING! What in the Hell were you thinking?”
“Hey, I didn’t know that, I swear!”
“Yeah, yeah, now come over here, sweetheart. Let me demonstrate how well my fingers work on you.”
Adam:
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Adam is 50/50 when it comes to answering your texts. Sometimes he’ll answer quickly, and sometimes he won’t, which can be frustrating. When you hit him up with this, it’s one of those times that he’s taking hours to see your texts, even leaving you on read when he finally opens them because his memory is shit. Adam is out with Lute, his eyes bugging out of his head when he decides to check his phone. I mean, hey, what’s up with that?
“Sir? Where are you going?” Lute asks him, watching him spread his wings, but Adam doesn’t answer, leaving before she can notice his boner.
“Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you? You gave me a boner in public, you stupid—!”
“Well, start answering your texts then, Adam! And don't you dare finish that sentence, or no sex for a week.”
“I'm so sorry, baby. I love you so much and I will answer your texts right away from now on.”
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Hazbin Hotel Characters React to You Asking for a Hug (PART 2)
Buckle in bitches, its time for some COMFORT
Lucifer
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Guys he’s SO nervous
“Oh really? You, uh, you want a hug from me? Are you sure?”
Nervous laughter 100
Takes a hot minute for him to adjust, but DOES give good hugs
WING HUGS. Y’ALL KNOW HOW I GET ABOUT WING HUGS.
Y’all gotta remember he’s a dad
So good, firm dad hug
His hands are clammy af, but don’t mention that pls
Gives you the opportunity to talk out whatever’s going through your head
Actually has really insightful advice
Like his daughter, honestly so honoured you chose to come to him
Lute
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“Must I?”
Begrudging as FUCK
But she’ll do it
If she has to
Stiff, awkward hugs that last for 5 seconds tops
No wing hugs :(
“Human souls are weird”
Tries to teach you how to fight so you can use sparring as a “normal” coping mechanism
Adam
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As much as I hate him, would give BANGIN hugs
“Fuck, you wan’ a hug? Fuck yeah bitch, get over here!”
Super enthusiastic about it????
Like, gives you shit, but its still one of the tightest and most excited hugs you’ve ever received
Very very warm
You will probably overheat if you stay there too long
WING HUGS!!!!!!!
Will be extra touchy with you from here on out
Arm around the shoulder, etc
Carmilla
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Is she mom, or mommy? Jury’s still out on that one.
Will never ever refuse you if you need a hug
Will, however, try to pull you aside and make it a private moment
Not a big fan on PDA, but your wellbeing takes priority
Makes you rest your head against her chest, no matter how tall you are
If you tell her what’s going on, will fix it
You don’t even need to ask.
She’s gonna check up on you after at LEAST twice
Rosie
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Is she mom or mommy part 2: electric boogaloo
Drops EVERYTHING
Ushers you into a sunroom and brews you a pot of tea to share
And grabs snacks, of course
Definitely forgets if cannibalism makes you queasy
Holds you hand from across the table and encourages you to talk it out with her
A lil bit pushy about it, but its from a place of love
But if you need it, will definitely hug you
Another one with bone shattering hugs
Her hands are cold af tho, so beware
Vox
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Tbh doesn’t hear you the first time, he’s super focused on whatever else he’s doing
Once he hears you/it registers to him, he’s pretty confused
“Why do you need a hug?”
Only hugs you if y’all are really close
Generally not a touchy person
He won’t stop whatever he’s doing though
Most likely will just sit you in his lap, so he can cuddle And work
Multitasking, bitch
Don’t do it while he’s actively broadcasting though
Super against PDA (bc he’s embarrassed) and will probably snap at you if you break this boundary
Velvette
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“Wot. Why?”
Also confused
Like Vox, usually to busy to properly hug you
But will let you stick around and lay all over her while she works
Anyone who questions it dies Very quickly, and Very grotesquely
Very protective
“Babes, do I need to hurt someone? Coz you Know I’ll do it”
Probs takes selfies of you hanging off of her bc she thinks its cute
Will dress you up to try and make you feel better
Valentino
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Seek psychological help 💕
I know he’s got a sexy voice, but you know I’m right
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hoseoksluna · 5 months
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ROSÉ | jjk
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pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc
genre: smut
word count: 5.7k
summary: on your first dinner date, your boyfriend brings you a small gift—too bad you're too horny to appreciate it.
pinterest board: wine
warnings: a bit of drunkenness, a mention of inner child healing, oc teases jungkook and oc is horny as fuck, dom/sub dynamics, wine!jk, provider jk..., daddy issues, punishment, spanking, food used during intercourse, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), dirty talk, a mention of a sex toy & a mention of a plushie in a sexual context, raw sex, brattiness, jk and oc smoke together
note: OH GOD—IT'S FINALLY HERE. SLFJSLDFJS. A REQUESTED DRABBLE about wine!oc and jungkook. this was so fucking fun to write and i was so hot and bothered from this that i had to take a break............ yeah uhm anyways, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. ENJOY READING AND LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ANONYMOUSLY IN MY INBOX. I NEED YOUR THOUGHTS. PLS AND THANK YOU. ₊˚⊹♡
side note: jk in the first pic made me fucking die. and other things....
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The rosy pink nectar has, undeniably, gone to your head. 
Your empty wine glass is illuminated by the setting sunlight spilling past your shoulder, reaching its yellow, warm fingers to the tips of your boyfriend’s that rest lazily on the white cloth of the table. You’re woozy, in a lighthearted mood—so much that even the world has lost its heft and all you can sense is the sluggish process of your absorption. You’re engrossed in the way the spring coalesces with the beginning of summer—in the warm evening wind ruffling your curls, tickling your bare shoulders, in the darkening hues of the sky, pinks and violets, in the gray smoke of Jungkook’s cigarette interlacing with the slightly sultry air. You can see it in his eyes, the unfolding of it all. And perhaps you’re tipsy or perhaps you’re just brazenly and foolishly falling in love, because you’re aware that if the man weren’t sitting in front of you, none of these things wouldn’t have caught your attention in such a devastatingly profound way. 
He has made you feel so safe. By simply and beautifully laying his feelings bare. To you and for you. Created a haven for you to dwell in, for you to grow in and explore all the dark and light corners of you that have merely seldom seen the face of the sun. How could you not indulge in a little bit of alcohol, when you’re protected in that place of security? Let your girlishness swim a little, refresh herself, enjoy herself?
You’re glowing. You always had been, but your shimmers have gained a new intensity to their twinkles, keeping Jungkook’s liquid stars warm and taken care of inside of you. Their blunt points have carved you into someone else entirely, too. Joyous, cool-headed and absolutely and irrevocably self-assured. Fearless. And his hands have reached deep within and caressed the head of your inner child, healing her and washing her clean, giving her everything she ever lacked. Love, attention, care and validation. Whenever you remember that you never wanted him to get a glimpse of your soul, bile rises in your throat and your stomach hurts.
He saved you. Healed you. Through and through. Gave you his control.
It stirs your never-ending awe that he has managed to do this in a month, and you want to celebrate it. You think now is quite the perfect occasion for it as it’s your first dinner date since you’ve become exclusive. Having spent most of your time at each other’s places fucking, partying and fucking some more, it’s nice to be out, alone with him, that is—and it’s nice as fuck to be out with your boyfriend. The sex has become so different with the label and the rawness of his feelings. And the thing about Jungkook that gets you the most, that strengthens the realm he invented for you, is that once his emotions overflow, the stream of its wine doesn’t stop pouring. The moment he confessed his love for you, ever since then you sense it expressed in everything he does—in the way he greets you in the day, in his tight, burning embrace, in the tenderness with which he holds your hand or kisses it, the relentless, great thought and consideration he puts in the choices he makes for you on the daily. Whether it’s the fatuous things he buys you that mean the world to you, the way he never neglects bunny and incorporates her in everything you do together or… the sex. 
Fuck, the sex alone has taken over your life so vividly and drastically that it consumes your brain. There, in that environment, is where the wine of his emotions is the raciest. He’s not ashamed to cry, letting those liquid pearls trickle down your collarbones, quenching the thirst of his liquid stars as he fucks you dumb and enjoys every second of it. He’s not afraid to be loud either. To talk you through your orgasm with even more care and detail than you were accustomed to in the past. 
He’s become boundless. And it’s the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen in your life. 
God, you’d be crazy not to let yourself fall for him—
“I got you dessert,” Jungkook husks, digging his fingers into the pocket of his pants while his other digits draw close to his mouth. He takes a drag of his cigarette, crinkling his eyes so the smoke wouldn’t get into them and you beam at him with a fire that’s more scorching than the sun’s ever been in centuries, heart doing somersaults at the thought of him thinking of you and spending money on you again. And, also, at how hot he looks while he smokes.
Your love language must be gift-giving. You don’t know what else to connect it to, the joy that envelops your entire being whenever he gives you something. It doesn’t even have to be expensive, nor does he have to pay for it at all. Drawings have become your favorite keepsakes—drawings of his Miffy bunny, drawings of flowers, of you. You’ve hidden them away in a box along with everything he’s ever brought you, except the white bunny ring because you wear it daily and one small, particular drawing that you’ve put inside your glittery phone case. 
A cutesy marker sketch of him and you. His arm around your shoulders. Bunny sitting on your laps in the middle, as if she were your own child. Cheeks big and bubbly, pink and twinkling. Your curls the way you wear them; his mullet. A perfect depiction of the pair of you. You gaze at it every single day—prefer to now put your phone face down because of it. 
You’re tracing it now with the pad of your finger as you wait for him to reveal your mystery gift to you. The bulby heads, the cheeks, Miffy’s ears. Jungkook puts out his cigarette, puffing out the smoke, away from you, and once he’s done, he taps the back of your hand. Turns it over and spreads out your fingers, inserting, at a snail's pace, something round but slender at the same time, smiling adoringly at you. 
What a sight to behold. It steals, fleetingly, your attention away from his hand. 
Slicked back mullet, twinkles taking laps in his soft eyes, blushed cheekbones and stretched, pouty mouth, shiny with his liquid love. Long neck that you’d like to devour now, the broadness of his shoulders and chest that could come second as a plain, dark beige shirt accentuates his hard work at the gym. 
Oh, fuck. Your nipples pebble against your carmine tube top. 
Jungkook withdraws his hand and with blurry eyes, you look at the thing he placed in your palm. 
Chupa Chups. Strawberry and cream. 
Your mouth parts and it’s a concoction of a gasp and a sound of endearment when the realization that he got you a lollipop sinks in. Your heart flips and does a head stand. Lips round into a pout, drunk eyes softening, its twinkles growing in size and light. It’s like he gave you something golden, when in fact it costs a few wons, but to you it’s exactly that. Something so precious. 
You give him an air kiss, bouncing in your seat in joy, fingers already destroying the wrapper. “Thank you so…”
Your brows furrow as the wrapper remains intact. You do a bad, bad job of picking at the tape around the slender stick, your long manicured hands absolutely useless—and the cause of your frustration. You puff out an angry gust of breath, trying harder to get to the sweet delight and it’s at that moment that your boyfriend takes it from your hands with a deep chuckle. 
“You silly boo, this is how you do it.” Jungkook pinches the wrapper around the stick and he merely, in a few swift motions, twists the ball until it lets go. He scrunches it in his fists and throws it away in the ashtray. Smirks smugly, leans his elbows on the table, draws close to you. You mirror his position, get to him almost nose to nose, and his smirk deepens, tongue darting out to lick across his lips. You do the same, eyeing the round pinkness in his hand, the sexual attraction and its tension soaring high between you.
Without your hands, you could put it in your mouth, mimic the way you do it on his own tip and make him lose his mind a little bit. It’s right here, an inch away and you dip your head towards it, a magnetic pulling drawing you naturally to it. Sense his gaze on you, sense his delight, sense the flashback glimmering across the wholeness of him. But before you could wrap your lips around it, he moves it out of your reach. 
“No,” Jungkook murmurs, breath slightly ragged, holds it up in front of your face, watches as you go cross-eyed a little bit. Hums at the sight, quietly enough for only you to hear. “If you want it, ask for it nicely.” 
His puffy lips being so close to you, you desire to kiss him—cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink, his oh-so-loved dominance fucking with your drunkenness and your brain, body altogether. You tip your head to the side, flutter your lashes, make your eyes big and smile at him as sweetly as you can. 
He coos, validating you, and it is a force that makes you feel safe enough to submit to him like a small animal to its father. Safe enough to want to get under the table and make him feel really, really good, too. 
“Can I have the lollipop, please?” 
He groans, still quietly, and your panties drench immediately. You widen your eyes at him, feeling your slick, pursing your lips to scold him silently. He just laughs, amused by it all, and the sound of his joy fills you with elation.
One that darkens, when he asks, “Where?” 
You lick your lips, taking in the question, struck by it. Letting your mind wander, the places where you want it, except your mouth, is on your nipples and your clit. Nicely sweet and sticky—for him to clean up, for him to enjoy. Your dewiness soaks the material of your panties and your body begins to yearn for any kind of friction. You’re not sure whether you’re able to stick around in your chair, acting as if nothing’s wrong—acting as if you’re not stupendously horny. 
“In my mouth.” 
Jungkook makes a noise of appreciation and you’re so frustrated by all those sounds he makes that you want to dig your nails in his arms and make him pay for it. Even more so, when he plunges the lollipop into his mouth and his lips pucker around it, inciting the butterflies in your tummy to go absolutely fucking berserk. You place your hand on his bicep, nails ready to attack, but then he pulls out the treat with a pop, angling it at your mouth. 
“Open.” 
You thought he stole it from you, but he did no such thing. He wetted it for you, like a father for its child. You’re stupefied to the point that you don't even realize that you’re leaving a mark on the linen material of your seat. 
You do open your mouth for him, however. 
He twists the ball on your tongue, expecting you to close your mouth around the stick, but you don’t. No, you swirl that muscle around the candy, deepening your gaze, smirking. Jungkook stills, clenches his strong jaw. Darkness flicks across his eyes and he narrows them. First warning. 
You pretend you don’t see it. 
Closing your mouth and encasing your hand around his, you move the lollipop to the side of your cheek, acting as if it were his dick. And when you bob your head once, Jungkook tugs on the stick, wanting to pull it out, but you don’t let him, keeping it caged between your teeth. It only drives you to bob your head again.  
“Stop,” he says, voice calm, deep and serious—terribly deadly. Withdraws his hand and leans back, watching you with a predatory gaze, one that makes you even wetter. “Or we’re going home.” 
That’s exactly what you want. Instructions clear. 
You open your mouth and do a show of swirling your tongue around the ball, only this time you flick the muscle against it. Jungkook grips the table, knuckles white, and you laugh, which you soon realize was a grave mistake. 
“You think it’s funny?” he questions you, staring you down with a look that should frighten you, but it merely turns you on. You suck on the lollipop, the dulciness of strawberries suffusing your senses. “I’ll bend you over this fucking table, lift up that slutty little skirt and spank you in front of everyone.” 
You pull out the candy with an exaggerated pop. Scowl at him. As though his words didn’t affect you the way that they did—as though you’re not squeezing your thighs together, trying to gain that friction you so desperately need. “Why are you so angry?” 
He looks away for a moment, laughing silently. Nods his head at your wine glass. “You finished with your wine, baby?” 
It’s this pleasantness that you hear in this voice that spreads goosebumps across your skin. Feigned sugariness—the sunlight right before the clouds come in and thunder strikes; the calm before the storm. 
Good thing you’re dressed for the rain and ready to sing in it. 
You nod your head and Jungkook clicks his tongue, grabs you by your hand whilst he pulls out his wallet. You accompany him as he walks over to the bar, black card ready between his fingers. Waits to be noticed. Gives you a look over and fixes your skirt, pulling the hem down. 
Pays for you. Smiles down at you as he pockets his wallet. 
And then, he drags you to his car. 
Perhaps it’s the fresh air, perhaps it’s the briskness in his walk and the tight hold around your hand, but all intoxication evaporates from your body, leaving only your stained elation and neediness. You can’t help your smile. Think it must be sewn in at this point. By his own diligent fingers. 
A wind blows in, pulling your hair to your front and Jungkook pins you against his car. Tits squished against the passenger side, elbows pressed together. Eyes wide, you check your surroundings and find no one in sight. Only swaying trees, buildings of apartments, lamps illuminating the dark street. You relax right away, trusting Jungkook that he’s on the lookout and knows what he’s doing. 
He grinds his hips against your backside and you moan at the feeling of his hard length. With his free hand, he brushes your hair to one side and begins to pepper kisses along the curve of your neck, nuzzling his face in. Hovers his lips above your ear when he says, “You feel how hard you made me with your little show?” You nod, quickly, wanting more of him, wanting him inside of you. Push your hips back; twirl them in slow circles. Jungkook hisses. “I guess you really do want that spanking. Where’s your lollipop?” You show him your hand, where your treat remains uneaten and dry. He takes it from you and you turn your head in time to see him sink it into his mouth, placing it on the side of his mouth like you did. “Get inside the car.” 
Jungkook opens the door for you and forces you in, closing it with a harsh thud. As he rounds the vehicle, he makes eye contact with you and your tummy flips in response. 
Fuck. 
Nothing happens in a millisecond once he’s seated, but then he grabs your cheeks, squishing them in the way he likes, and kisses you hard, lollipop in hand. Moving his mouth against yours, his tongue only briefly greets you before he pulls away. “Naughty fucking girl. You’re lucky that I love you because otherwise…” He doesn’t finish his sentence with words, but with another kiss, breathing against you, grunting when it’s you this time that slips the tongue inside, playing with him the same way you played with the dessert he got you. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me. I’m gonna put you in your fucking place, make you remember how to behave in public. You’ve forgotten, haven't you?” 
You don’t have time to react, you merely bite your lip so hard that it aches. Jungkook pushes you back and yanks your leg between his, lifting your skirt. Then, he hovers his palm above your ass, the other forearm resting on the top of the seat, lollipop dangling near your head. He hides his smirk behind his effort to flatten his lips. 
And when he spanks you, you don’t roll your eyes back and rasp like your body naturally wants you to. No, you hold the eye contact and you take the pain, letting it course through your body, reveling in it. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps going, alternating between slapping your now reddened cheeks and the back of your thigh. Doesn’t even stroke the skin to alleviate the burn. He solely bores his gaze into yours, his cock rock hard against your leg. Another set of words are exchanged, silently, deeply, teaching you your lesson in tandem with the hits, burying it to a great depth inside you. 
And then he finishes with a nasty kiss, but his hand resumes causing you pain. You’ve lost count of how many spanks you’ve taken. 
It’s like you’ve woken up from a trance. It reverberates throughout your entire body and it’s now that you allow your body to vocally react. You whine, rounding your mouth in a pout, so different from the one on the dinner date. And you remember your manners—perceive how wrong it was to tease him, even though a good half of you still takes delight in it. 
“It hurts,” you whisper, nudging your lips against him and he gives you your last spank—the hardest of them all. The infliction makes you flutter your eyes shut and Jungkook brings them back to him by caressing his knuckles down your flushed cheek. 
“Good, you remember how to behave now?” he asks, halting his movement, such piercing intensity in his irises that drive you to nod your head. “That’s my good little girl.” Taps the side of your thigh. “Let Daddy make it better now.” 
You open your legs for him and Jungkook pushes your soaked panties to the side, revealing your little bedewed seashell. He hums at the sight of her, pops the lollipop back inside his mouth. Collects your arousal by swirling the pads of his middle and ring finger around your hole, eyes flicking from your pussy to your own, groaning when he comes into contact with your swollen clit, rubbing slow circles. You whimper, bucking your hips, needing him to go faster, needing to come. 
Jungkook shakes his head, disapproving. “You take what I give you or I’ll stop.” Lifts his hand to express the gravity of his threat and you help, wrapping both hands around his and putting it back on your bundle of nerves. He chuckles at your desperation, giving you the same circles, though now firmer. 
Waves the lollipop near your lips. You open your mouth, instinctively, and he plunges it into your mouth for a mere second before he pulls away, growling at the sound that comes out. He does it again, fucking you with it in a way, just to hear that pop and he’s so pleased with it that he sinks those two fingers inside your heat, fully, in one ego. Keeps them there. Teases you. Hovers the lollipop out of your reach and you decide to fuck with him back. Darting out your tongue, you whirl it around the flat side and he swears, moaning, giving to you at last. 
He latches his mouth onto your neck, starting the drill of his fingers. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” 
He picks up the speed so rapidly that you scream, squeezing your eyes shut, the pleasure permeating your body so vastly that you quiver all over. Grab a hold of his hair, pulling on it and then—
Then, he withdraws his fingers. Ruins your orgasm. 
You pant, trying to catch your breath. “Please, Jungkook, please—”
He nudges his nose against yours. “What, baby?” 
“I need to come, please.” 
Jungkook tuts, kissing you once. “I thought we could play.” Plunges the lollipop into your mouth to wet it. Shows it to you, just to see you go cross-eyed again. Moans. “Where do you want it, hm?” 
Ever the angel that makes your fantasies come to life. You wrap your fingers around his hand, butterflies swarming in your tummy. Lead him towards your still clothed breasts. “Here.” Take him to your drooling pussy. “And here.” 
Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Descends his fingers a little lower, to your other hole, circles it. “What about here?” 
You giggle, but you shake your head. The idea may be intoxicating, however reality is much different. There’s a risk to putting any sweetened food inside, one you don’t want to deal with. 
Jungkook smiles at you, pushes your seat back and slides it in the same direction. Crawls over you and you feel so feminine, so sexy underneath him. Nipples perked under your top, breasts full and spilling. You arch your back towards him and Jungkook drags his thumb from your bottom lip, to your chin, neck, the dip of your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your Tom and he tugs it down so harshly that you can’t contain your very own concoction of a gasp and moan. 
Lollipop in mouth, one hand propped by your head, the other squeezes your breast hard, nearing it, fingers pinching your nipple. Makes the flesh as red as your ass. You can tell he likes the view by the way he coos, but then he wipes all your thoughts away, when he sucks hard on the candy and swirls it around your stiffened nub, gaze flicked to yours to watch your reaction. 
The pleasure is so vivid, so dizzying—and for him, you let it paint your face in all its colors. Brows scrunched, bedroom eyes, mouth parted, puffing out desperate breaths. Jungkook sucks it again and smears his saliva around your other nipple, taking his time, slapping the ball once against it, making you hiss. 
“It feels so good,” you murmur, sinking your fingers into the longer length on the back of his hair, bringing his mouth to yours. You kiss him with a verve that causes him to groan. You swallow that sound, satisfied. 
He grins at you. “I bet.” 
Dips his head and envelops that sugar-coated nub with his warm lips, sucking it hard. His groan spreads there, deepens there and you arch your back even more, pulling his head to your other nipple so he can do the same thing. Join your other hand to his hair and do whatever you please—turn his head side to side, from one nub to the other—and he lets you, giving you, momentarily, his control. You feel your essence soaking the seat beneath you and you thank the heavens that the fabric is one of leather. You lift his head and try to push it down, but he won’t budge. Stares you down instead, lustfully. 
“Where do you want me?” he asks, a wrinkle between brows. “Be a good girl and tell me.” Pops the lollipop back in his mouth.
You sigh, kissing him once on the side of his neck, using your tongue. Make sure you’re looking at him as you reply, “On my clit.” 
He moans, eyes woozy, finger on the stick as he sucks the candy, clefts of dimples on either side of his cheeks. You palm his length, your own digits rounding across his tight balls and he whisks his irises back, grinding into your hand. “You want a lickie?” 
“Yes, so bad, please.” 
He hums and kneels before you, kissing your clit once in greeting. Then, he flattens his tongue and licks a fat stripe across your whole femininity—from your slit, to your swollenness. Hands on your hips, index curled around the lollipop, he holds you steady, prevents you from meeting him, as he stimulates you like this. Up and down, tongue rolling, eyes fixed on you, devouring you. And when he stops to suck your clit, he taps your mouth once with the ball of the lollipop. The act of sucking on something while you’re getting pleasured like this almost throws you over the edge, your body coated in a layer of sweat, but Jungkook withdraws in time. Presses the delight in the middle and rubs small circles, just to prepare you for the big thing. You become so whiny, so loud that his eyes grow in size, watching you in awe. 
To reward you for such beauty, he rapidly strums it from side to side, causing you to nearly levitate, but he pins you down. Wetting it and placing it back down, grunting at the aftertaste of you mixed with the sweetness. 
And he can’t resist. Can’t hold back. The wrinkle between his brows deepens when he tastes you, licking you all over, tongue stopping occasionally its feast to flick at your clit before he swallows you whole. Grunts, sucks, licks. Eyes closed to savor the taste. The pressure in your core heightens, even more so when he lifts your legs, greedy for the side dish in the form of your other hole. You’re so close that you might burst. 
“You taste so fucking good, baby. So sweet. Come on my tongue, please, I want more of you.” 
He wants more of your taste. 
You come so hard that your orgasm takes you to an open sea, your body floating on calm waves, to and fro, eyes rolled to the sky—to the sunroof—seeing nothing but the elegance of the twinkling stars and deep purple clouds. 
“That’s it, baby, so good. That’s my little girl.” He slaps the side of your thigh, bringing you back to him. “Listening so well, learning her lesson, coming so hard. I’m proud.” 
His words alone could make you come again, but you’re distracted.
Jungkook unbuttons his pants and pulls out his manhood. Stroking himself, he lines his tip at your mouth. He doesn’t even have to tell you to open up—you do it yourself. Holding it at the base, he stuffs your throat right away, a guttural chuckle emitting out of his mouth when you gag. He pulls out to where you’re comfortable having him and you begin to bob your head, like you did with the lollipop. 
“Yes, suck it like that, my love. Daddy loves it when you do that.” 
His precum on your tongue, the way he’s holding himself, the position and his words—you moan around him, so out of your mind, so fucked out. And when he fucks your mouth, it turns you on so much that you go cross-eyed. 
Jungkook pulls out quickly, as if the sight of it alone was about to make him come. A string of your saliva from his tip drips onto your chest and he slides into your mouth again just to poke your cheek, just to mimic what you did with the lollipop. You whine, liking it so much, to the point that he drills this tender place of yours until he can’t take it enough. 
“Turn around.” You try to, but your legs are jelly. He manhandles you to the position he wants—on your knees, tits against the leather, arms around the headrest, the formerly abused cheek against it. “Hold onto it. Too bad we left bunny at home, huh?” 
Jungkook runs his cock across your pussy and you grind against it, needing the friction after the way he used you. You whimper for him. “She’s probably wondering where we are right now and why we’re taking so long.” 
“I’ll make it up to her.” He presses his length against your clit, encouraging you to use him back. “Rub your pussy like that on me, fuck.” He moves so it’s his tip that stimulates you. You ride him harder, moaning loudly against the leather. “You can make it up to her, too. Can ride her like I know you can. With a vibrator between your legs and hers, hm? How you like the sound of that?” 
You’re so close you could come in a second, but you don’t want it like this. You need him inside of you. “Shut up, I’m literally gonna come like this. Fuck me.” 
He fists your hair. Pain shoots up your scalp and he ruts into your heat. Fully. Until his pelvis collides with your ass. You scream. 
Lips by your ear. “Is this how you talk to your Daddy?” He begins to pump into your little tight hole. Mercilessly. The leather squeaks, a horrible, rapid sound that you can only faintly hear because all that your senses can focus on is his cock. “Your Daddy that loves you so much?” 
You come, pathetically. Sea and waves, palm trees that sway. Your legs tremble, but he keeps going, mouthing the shape of your ear. 
He tsks. “I’m gonna tell bunny on you. Maybe I’ll be the one who gets to fuck her while you watch.” He gives you a hard stroke, one that is followed by rapid thrusts that scramble your brain. “She’ll be so disappointed to hear how bad you’ve been, but I’ll make sure to tell her how hard I fucked it out of you.” 
Lifting you from the leather, he kneads your breasts, placing the lollipop in between and holding it up by squishing them. 
“Come on, get your lollipop.” He bounces your tits in his hands, signalizing you that he wants you to do it with your mouth. 
But you can’t do it. You come, majestically, your senses leaving you and wafting in the stuffed air of the car. Boneless, you sag in his arms. 
Jungkook coos. “You come so well around me that I’ll be good to you. You’re just a cockslut, aren’t you, baby? You just can’t help it, hm?” He puts the lollipop inside your mouth, chasing his so-needed release. 
It doesn’t take long for him to find the footsteps into that bliss that you left in your wake. He holds you like this, against him, tits spilling over his forearms as he jackhammers into you so hard that your whole body bounces, shakes and reacts to each grunt, to each whimper, to each kiss he presses onto your skin. 
With the little of the brain you have left, you decide to talk him through it—because he fucks you so good. 
“Come for me, Daddy, yes, please, fuck. Fill me up with your cum. I want it so bad, I want to feel you—” His cock twitches in you, but he continues, sloppily. “Yes, so good. That’s it. Come for your little girl, Jungkook.” A loud groan. A tight hold. A spurt of his cum inside your walls. You whimper and he fucks it deeper into you, giving you more of his liquid stars. “Jungkook, oh fuck, Jungkook, oh yes.” 
And it’s that never-ending litany of his name that helps him chase his high to the fullest. He kisses your neck hard in gratitude for helping him come, marking you, marking this memory. 
You stay like this for a little while. Sweaty, sticky, spent, breathing hard—lungs synced. 
A warm announcement sneaks to your heart, one that screams it into the drowsy skies once Jungkook pulls out of you, turns you around and, stealing your candy, kisses you. 
An announcement that you’re deeply and irrevocably in love with him. 
“You sounded just like me.” He finishes your lollipop for you, chewing the small bulby head as he dresses you and his cum spills onto your panties. 
Your smile is dopey, satisfied and you’re ready for sleep to take you, but Jungkook gets out of the car for a smoke. You think you need one, too, after what you’ve experienced together, and so you follow him out into the night on wobbly legs. 
He leans against his car, a cigarette in his mouth, one hand cupping the fire as he flicks his lighter to life. You wait until he puffs out the smoke into the air before you fold into the side of his body, stealing his cigarette and inhaling it, giving it back to him. 
Jungkook pats your head, rubbing your scalp, chin propped on it. “I didn’t mean what I said. You were perfect. I’m not telling shit to bunny, I promise.” 
You smile, fondly. Didn’t take his words seriously, not at all, but you’re grateful for the reassurement regardless. It’s just role-play, nothing else. 
“I know, baby,” you say, softly, massaging his stomach, going as far as under his shirt to feel his bare skin—ever so innocently. 
“I wanted to fuck you the moment you sat down. You’re just my little helper and because of that I’m glad we’re going home with my cum in your panties,” he whispers, placing the cigarette on your lips, so you can take a drag. “You deserve every drop.” 
You feel that familiar ache rooting in your core again, but you don’t think you can take another round. Jungkook lifts your chin, making you look at him. Twinkles, bigger than the ones of the stars up above, living in his soft eyes. That cute nose. Those pouty lips. His silky, dreamy heart that looks out for you and puts you first. 
The three words that you’ve never told him before rise up your body and you think now is the perfect occasion to say them. 
“I love you.” 
Wetness coats his eyes and the twinkles broaden, saturating them with an unfathomable, fulging light. He flicks his cigarette away, presses you closer to him and with his now free hand, he cups your face. Kisses you. For a long, long time. 
“I love you.” 
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evansbby · 1 year
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𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 (𝐩𝐨𝐲𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞)
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, a/b/o dynamics, daddy kink, HEAVY lactation kink, also heavy on housewife kink, domesticity kink, very heavy on breeding kink, and pregnancy kink, Steve is very condescending, also babies omega a lot as per usual, the usual stuff! 18+ only, minors dni!
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve is so turned on by his submissive little housewife, and so he decides he's going to breed her again.
𝐀/𝐍: I kind of went crazy with this. IDEK YALL. kinda went delirious as i wrote it and now it's late. Enjoy! (This is a drabble of my fic, POYT)
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Steve can’t wait to get home to his wife. He’s only been married less than a year and yet he can’t get over the pure domestic bliss that his life has become. It’s what he’d always wanted, always dreamed about. And now he has it. With you, his perfect, beautiful, innocent little omega. And his adorable little daughter too.
“You’re home!” You breathe, your face lighting up when Steve walks in through the front door. And Steve can feel his own face lighting up, and he can’t help but take two steps forward and yank you into a crushing hug. All his stress and worries from work seem to dissipate at once. And the fact that you look so happy to see him? In a cute little floral dress, looking so extra curvy and voluptuous ever since you’d given birth. Your breasts are practically spilling out the top of your dress, and it makes him lick his lips appreciatively.
You’ve got Rosie on your hip, and she looks absolutely thrilled to see him too, which makes Steve’s chest puff out in pride. He can’t believe this is his life, and that he gets to share it with you. Sure, work is stressful as Steve plans to expand his family’s company even more and his father’s basically left him in control and responsible for everything. Not to mention, all the preparations for the senatorial elections next year.
But all that melts away as he hugs you close, his eyes fluttering shut in content as you loosen his tie and undo his collar button, pressing kisses on his shoulders and chest because you’re too small and delicate to reach his lips.
“Missed you so much, Steve.” You say, looking up at him needily.
“You did, didn’t you?” Steve smirks, although he knows that he probably missed you even more. He has a special picture of you framed on his desk. It’s from the day he proposed to you, you sitting in the field of yellow roses in your yellow dress, bathing in the sunlight and looking happier than ever. He stares at that picture more than he’d like to admit. Sometimes, he talks to it, complains to it about his dumbass employees and equally stupid business partners.
He also has a picture of Rosie from her six-month celebration. Which his whole family had celebrated as if it was her birthday – she was the first grandchild after all and so it wasn’t a surprised that everyone wanted to dote on her. Steve’s mom had been especially into the six-month celebration, which Steve didn’t understand because his mom would obviously be there for Rosie’s first birthday. And second, and third. And so on. She would, wouldn’t she?
He shakes those unwanted thoughts out of his mind before they go to that one place he doesn’t want to acknowledge right now. Instead, he focuses on you, his beautiful wife. You’re so cute and thoughtful, setting Rosie down in her baby chair before helping him out of his jacket and undoing his tie for him.
“How was work, Steve?”
“Good. The same.” He grunts, not wanting to talk about work at all. Instead, he picks up his daughter, examining her carefully. She’s cute as ever, way cuter than any other baby he’s ever seen in his life. Definitely cuter than the babies in the diaper and baby food commercials he sees on television. Rosie would be way better in those commercials, not that he’d ever exploit his daughter like that. If Steve had his way, no one outside of his family would ever lay their eyes on his wife and his baby – they’d be kept private. Because they needed to be protected by him and he loved them more than anything.
“Hey, Rosie. You look so cute, sweetheart. All ready for bed, huh?” He coos, giving his daughter a dozen kisses on her cute, fat cheeks. She giggles, wrapping her tiny arms around his face as he gives her kisses. And then he looks at her carefully, drinking her in because he hates being at work all day and missing out on her. She’s growing so fast, it feels like just yesterday she was the size of his hand and now she’s so much bigger. And she was looking more and more like her mommy as the days passed.
“She wasn’t showing any signs of being tired,” you speak up shyly, “I think she was waiting for her daddy to come home so she could say goodnight.”
“Is that right, Rosie?” Steve asks, and his daughter blinks up at him with a smile on her face, starts kicking her chubby little legs up and down excitedly. He can’t help but melt inside, deciding to play his favourite game with her. He throws her up in the air and she squeals happily. You gasp behind him, muttering a “Steve, please be careful,” which he is, of course he is.
Rosie yawns, and Steve kisses her face a few more times before placing her back down. And then he pulls you into him, kissing you fervently because he’s missed you so fucking much. Not to mention, you look so crazy hot right now. His little wife. His perfect little omega.
“Baby, this dress is so hot on you.” He mutters against your lips, lifting you up so he can kiss you properly.
You light up at his praise, “Thank you. Although it’s gotten a bit small–”
He smirks down at your breasts which look ready to pop out of the material any second, “It looks good.”
He kisses you some more, not wanting to stop as his hands go to cup your ass. But you pull away after a little while, telling him that you need to put Rosie to bed. He accompanies you, groping you every few seconds because he just can’t get over how hot you look, how you’re so glowing, how motherhood suits you so much.
The two of you put Rosie to bed, and Steve feels so fulfilled by his little family as he stands there with his arm around you, watching Rosie cuddle with her stuffed animal and immediately fall asleep.
“I made all your favourite food tonight.” You tell him as you grab his hand and lead him to the dining room. And Steve loves when you take initiative like that. Before, you’d never take his hand like that – you’d always wait for him to initiate and lead. But now, you’re more comfortable with him and he loves when you do little things like this. His little housewife, perfectly safe inside his house and leading him to the meal you’d cooked just for him.
You’ve set the dining room table up perfectly for two, but Steve pulls you into his lap after you’ve finished piling his plate up high with everything from chicken pot pie to mashed potatoes and vegetable soup. “Have you eaten, baby?”
You look down into your lap, “No, I was waiting for you.”
He feeds you along with himself, not wanting you to lift another finger. You’ve worked so hard on this dinner, and balanced that with other household chores – not to mention looking after Rosie. Now, he needs you to conserve your energy. Because of what he has planned for the rest of the night, of course.
“You’re such a good little girl,” Steve coos, tearing off a hunk of your homemade bread and dipping it into the soup before feeding it to you, “You did so good, baby, and daddy is so proud of you.”
You glow, “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, daddy – I mean Steve. Thank you, Steve!”
He smirks, patting your lips with a napkin. He continues to feed both of you, taking a second and third helping of food just for himself because he’s worked so damn fucking hard and he’s hungry and you’re like a Michelin star chef when it comes to cooking. But he loves how submissive you’re being right now, opening your mouth whenever he gives you another bite, smiling demurely when he kisses your cheek or temple, or widening your eyes when his hand playfully reaches up your skirt and settles on your bare upper thigh.
“You’re such a great housewife, omega.” He continues to sing your praises softly, wanting to see you squirm in his lap because you’ve never been able to take a compliment. “You must’ve had a busy day today, huh? My pretty little baby omega, running my house and taking care of my baby.”
You swallow your bite of food before nodding, “I-I tried. But I didn’t manage to complete everything on my to-do list.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah,” you shake your head as if to reprimand yourself, “I did the laundry in the morning as well as some general cleaning up. I fed Rosie and played some games with her and then got her all dressed up in the new pink frilly dress we got for her six-month celebration. Then I took her to the park and did some groceries on the way back. I was supposed to go to that home boutique to get some new material for curtains and I was supposed to go to the post office too, but I had to skip all that because it was getting late and Rosie was getting fussy and I had to put her down for her nap and get started on dinner. I guess I didn’t plan everything out as perfectly as I thought I did.” You hang your head dejectedly.
It’s in moments like these that Steve just wants to hold you in his arms and kiss you all over and cherish you like the beautiful, perfect human being that you are. Instead, he brushes a bit of your hair behind your ear and tips your chin up till you meet his gaze.
“Baby, you know we have people to do all that, right?” He thinks back to the all the staff that he’s paying. Sure, he loves when you play housewife, how you insist on doing everything yourself. But he doesn’t want you to stretch yourself out so thin, and work yourself up too much. Especially not when he was trying to get you pregnant again. “Please tell me you at least had the driver take you.”
You’re silent, before looking up at him sheepishly, “It’s only a five-minute drive to the park and the grocery store, Steve.”
He frowns, “You know I don’t want you driving.” Omegas don’t drive.
“I know, I know. But I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”
He decides to let it go, because Steve knows that marriage is about picking and choosing your battles. He shakes his head to let you know that he disapproves of this behaviour, but he also gives you a kiss on the temple, which informs you that he won’t be punishing you for this, which makes you relax and smile up at him. And how can he punish you? When you’ve been working so hard all day and so has he… and all he really wants to do is spend the night with his beautiful wife, doing all sorts of nasty, despicable things to you.
“S-Steve?”
He’s lost in thought, so when you call out his name in that shy, cute little voice of yours… well, it goes straight to his dick. He was rock hard the moment he’d entered the house, but now he’s positively about to bust a nut. You, all soft and cute, sitting in his lap and now you’re saying his name in that cute, breathy and shy way?! It’s like you were teasing him on purpose!
“Yes, baby?” He bounces you on his knee, licking his lips as he watches how your breasts bounce too. He drives his hard crotch into your butt, making you gasp slightly before you quickly recover.
“I was… uh… I was wondering if me and Rosie could visit you at work tomorrow?” You blurt out, looking so adorably shy as you immediately duck your head down again, “During lunch, maybe? I-It’s okay if you’re busy, though. It was just a thought.”
He knows you have a therapy session tomorrow morning (Steve oversees your schedule so he knows where you are at all times). He also knows that sometimes, after certain sessions (probably the ones where you talk about your parents) you get extra needy. He knows this because you text him a lot after those sessions, and call him a lot too. Normal stuff like describing how you cooked dinner or telling him about your day so far. You hadn’t made any girlfriends yet (well, there’s his mom and also a few of his colleagues’ wives who you were friendly with… but he knows you’re most comfortable with him). Once you’d called him while he was in the middle of a very important meeting, but he’d talked to you nonetheless because, well, he was the boss and he could do that. And because he knew you needed him.
“Of course, you can, baby. Just come right up to my office.”
You smile happily, “Okay, thanks! I’ll add it to my schedule. Let’s say… between one to two pm?”
Steve nods, the corners of his mouth twitching as he watches you take your phone out. You open your scheduling app to a colourful spreadsheet and quickly fill in a slot, the one right below “Therapy Session” and you label it as “Lunch with Steve and Rosie” with a bunch of hearts. He loves how organised you are, it’s the cutest and most amusing thing in the world to him. It also comes in handy in other aspects – like how Steve always has his shirts and ties all crisp and ironed and laid out for him every morning, and how his closet is always colour-coded.
He catches your lips in his, unable to keep from kissing you. God, he’s so in love with you and he can’t believe how perfect you are. Sometimes he can’t fully wrap his head around the fact that you’re his. Completely and utterly his. Because he knows he doesn’t deserve you. Not in the slightest.
But he has you. And he’s not complaining or ever letting you go.
Steve polishes off his third helping of food till the plate gleams clean, and you nod your head at him approvingly.
“Would you like some dessert, Steve? I think we have some leftover chocolate cake from last night.” (You had baked it at 2am the night before, because sometimes you did things like that and Steve had long ago stopped questioning it – especially since you’d packed him a fat slice to take to work today).
But Steve isn’t in the mood for chocolate cake right this second. He stands up quickly, with you in his arms bridal style. You squeal lightly, winding your arms up around his neck.
“I do want something sweet, baby omega. But I think you know what I want, and it’s not chocolate cake.” He murmurs huskily against your lips. Your eyes widen like they always do whenever he refers to sex, but he knows you want him just as badly. It’s the way your scent becomes so much sweeter than it already is, the way you squeeze your thighs together in a way you think is subtle but he notices every single time. It’s how he can sense your raw want and need for him through the bond you both share.
He starts walking towards the staircase with you in his arms.
“Should I tell you what I’m gonna do to you tonight, baby?”
You nod, your breath hitching in your throat so prettily, your hands looking so tiny as they trail down your chest. He can even see beads of sweat forming on your brow, and how your lips part open. All tell-tale signs of an omega who was at her most fertile and was ready to mate. (And of course, Steve knew you’d be very fertile tonight, because he kept track of things like that).
 “Mm, first I’m going to lay you down on our bed and you’re going to feed daddy, aren’t you?” Steve smirks, holding you easily with one arm while his free hand slips up to squeeze one of your breasts. As he suspected, they look big and heavy with milk, bouncing with each step he takes. Your nipples are so hard, he can see them clear as day through the thin material of your dress, and his cocks gets even harder when he sees the tiny little wet patches. “Your tits look so sore, baby. You’re gonna let daddy drink from them, aren’t you? Relieve all that pressure, right, baby omega?”
“Y-Yeah, daddy,” you pant, nodding so quickly that you forget to be shy. And now, Steve can practically smell your slick as it trickles down your legs. He takes the stairs up two at a time, keeping you firmly in his arms and watching as your tits bounce enticingly just for him.
He’d always planned to drink your milk when he got you pregnant the first time. He’d heard of other alphas doing it with their omegas, and the thought of doing it with you always turned him on to the point where he had to immediately jack off. And he finally got his chance to do it when you were still pregnant, almost about to pop and you’d begun lactating of course. Fuck, Steve had been in heaven, he still remembers the first time he’d fed from your breast. One hand cupping your pregnant belly, his mouth latched on your nipple and you gazing at him unsurely because of course you felt uncomfortable.
But Steve had loved every second of it, and so had you because he’d fingered you the whole time he drank from you, and you’d cum three times one after the other. And Steve had blown his load all over your quivering pussy, so fucking turned on by the fact that he was feeding from his pregnant omega. And then it had become a regular occurrence after that. Like if the baby had had her fill and you still felt heavy, Steve would always step in to “help out.”
“And then after I’ve drank my fill, I’m going to climb on top of you and fuck you so hard.” Steve promises you, and he swears he feels you shiver with anticipation in his arms as he carries you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. One glance at the baby monitor shows Rosie safely asleep in her nursery.
“Alpha, please!” you whine prettily, and he knows your omega senses have taken over. It’s how you’re humping against him now, your slick trailing down your legs lewdly. “N-Need you, need your knot, please, alpha, please!”
“Oh yeah? You want my knot?”
“Yes!”
“You want your alpha to cum inside your little baby omega pussy? Fill you up with my cum, then knot you so it all stays inside?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
“You want me to fuck another baby into you?”
“YES, PLEASE, DADDY!”
That’s when Steve knows he has you right where he wants you. In that blissful state of complete abandon, where you leave yourself to the mercy of the omega inside you. Where you completely submit yourself to him and your own basest omega desire – mating.
Steve knows you’ve been on the fence about having another baby. The two of you had discussed it, and Steve had made it clear that he wanted a big family. You had expressed that you also wanted more babies, but you wanted to wait a while and focus on Rosie. Well, Rosie was almost seven months old now, and Steve was sure she’d love a little sibling. And then another one. And another one. And then another. And then one more. And then maybe another one after that.
He throws you on the bed, and you land on your back with a soft thud. Already, your legs are spreading on their own accord, as if you need him inside you right this second. But Steve plans on taking his own sweet time, and he salivates when he sees your cleavage, your chest heaving up and down as you breathe erratically.
He’s on top of you in a second, licking and nipping at your face like a feral beast who wants to mark his prey. He scents you heavily, till you grow lax in his arms, all submissive and needy as you stare up at him pleadingly, your nostrils twitching at his alpha scent.
“Alpha, plea– oh my!”
He rips your dress clean in half, letting out an animalistic growl when your tits spill out attractively. No bra of course. And no panties either. You weren’t allowed to wear those at home.
“S-Steve,” you gasp as he spanks your thigh and gives you a warning look, “I-I mean, daddy! Please fuck me!”
He chuckles, tweaking the stiff peak of your nipple before blowing cool air on it. He watches your features twist, your jaw go slack. “Let daddy have some fun first, baby omega. Don’t forget, you have to feed me first.”
He’s got his knee lodged between your legs and he can feel you steadily humping against it. But all he can focus on are your breasts. He rolls your sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pressing down gently before cupping your breast and squeezing it.
You moan as your milk spurts out, and Steve immediately latches on to your nipple, sucking hard. He moans around your breast, sending vibrations through your whole body when your sweet milk touches his tongue. Fuck, you taste so good, so sweet.
“That’s my good little baby,” he murmurs encouragingly, his voice slightly muffled as he tries to coax your writhing body. “Such a good little baby, breastfeeding your daddy like a good girl, aren’t you?”
“Ah, ah, ah! Y-Yeah!”
“That’s right, give daddy more of your sweet mommy milk,” he sucks almost your whole breast into his mouth, so incredibly turned on by what he’s doing right now. He massages your other breast, and it squirts out milk too. Steve takes care of that, licking all over both your breasts to get the excess milk off your chest before returning to your nipple, “Tell me how much you love feeding daddy.”
“L-Love feeding daddy, love it so much, please!” You mewl pitifully, grabbing at his hair and pressing his face more into your breasts. And Steve can’t believe this is you – his shy and innocent little omega wife completely transformed into this feral creature who is currently rutting against his clothed cock.
He can’t help but surge up and kiss you, his tongue mingling with yours as he makes you taste your own milk. And you’re moaning breathily, breaking the kiss every few seconds just to beg him some more, saying “daddy, please” before biting and sucking at his lip, kissing him deeper like you can’t get enough of him.
“God, I love your mommy milk so much,” he tells you, going back to suck your other nipple. And he knows you feel immediate relief as he drains you, alleviates the pressure from your breasts as he drinks from you. He feels you stroke his hair and wrap your legs around his waist, dry humping him even more needily, like you just can’t help it.
He spanks you hard, four times in quick succession, “You’re gonna feed me your mommy milk whenever I want, aren’t you?”
“Y-Yes, alpha! I will!”
He grazes his teeth against your sensitive nipple, making you jump before you gives it another hearty suck, your milk still squirting out straight into his mouth, “Mm, so you’re gonna breastfeed daddy tomorrow, aren’t you? When you stop by for lunch at my office?”
“Yes!”
“Yeah? You’re gonna sit in daddy’s lap like a sweet little omega and let me suck on your tits while I do my work? Feed me your sweet mommy milk like the obedient little wife that you are?” God, Steve was so turned on, he reaches down to pull his cock out from the confines of his pants. You see it and gasp, immediately making grabby hands for it, and the smell of your arousal increases tenfold.
“Y-Yeah, daddy! W-Wanna be good for you, always wanna do what I’m told an’ be good for you,” you cry, clutching him close, “I’ll do anything for you alpha, please, please, please!”
God, you were such a good fucking omega. The perfect little wife, so innocent yet you turned into a freak in the goddamn sheets when he had you underneath him. You were almost as desperate for him as he was for you, although he knew you could never beat him at that game. He was so obsessed with you, it was unhealthy. He wanted you all the time, he thought about you all the time. To Steve, the sexiest thing in the whole world was you, and the fact that you were his property turned him on infinitely more.
He licks at your tits hungrily, lapping up all your sweet milk that he didn’t catch in his mouth the first time. And then he goes back to sucking, and he even gives your nipple a little bite, making you scream his name and hold him even tighter. And it’s then that he realises that you’ve cum, and he feels the sopping wetness of your release as you squirt all over his leg, crying like a baby as you moan his name deliriously.
“You’re a sensitive little baby, aren’t you, omega?” Steve whispers devilishly, reaching down to cup between your legs, feel your quivering pussy, your sensitive clit throbbing against his palm. “Can’t help but cum from feeding your daddy, huh?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“Don’t worry, baby omega.” He smirks, giving your sopping pussy a few slaps that make you jump and grip his shirt hard, a newfound neediness inside you. As if cumming once had left you sensitive down there yet still not satisfied, still greedy and panting for more…
“Daddy, I… Daddy, please! Need your knot, daddy please!”
You haven’t been this vocal with your neediness for a long time. Steve wonders if you’re about to go into heat, as if even your own body is telling you that it’s time to get pregnant again. Fuck, that was so hot, and he can’t help but graze his hard cock over your bare stomach, tracing your skin with his precum, making sure his scent is all over you till it seeps into your skin.
“You want my daddy dick, don’t you?” He asks you gruffly, switching to a more authoritative tone. The beast alpha inside of him is roaring awake, a natural response to how needy you’re being. He has this innate urge to control you, subdue you, pin you down and fuck you like an omega in heat deserved to be fucked.
“Yes, please, please, please!” You writhe underneath him, hips bucking up and your hands still trying to grab at his cock, trying desperately to somehow shove it inside your leaking, desperate little hole. Except he cruelly slaps your hands away, making sure he’s in complete control, not an ounce of leniency left inside him.
“Get on your fucking hands and knees. Right now, omega. Present for me.”
He watches as you pant and readily obey him. Your limbs are like jelly after your orgasm but you’re so desperate to obey him that you stumble into position readily. He loves how he never has to alpha-command you, because you’re so naturally submissive that you always listen to him no matter what. And fuck, your ass looks amazing as you get on your hands and knees, pointing it towards him and he can’t help but give it a hard smack, licking his lips at your hot little ass as it jiggles.
“Arch your back a bit more, let daddy see your little fuckhole. Mm, just like that. That’s my good little girl.” He praises you, rubbing your ass where he’s just slapped you. You’re swaying and shivering underneath him, poking backwards in an attempt to create friction. Steve smirks, gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them apart. And that’s when he’s hit with your sweet pussy scent, so hard that he almost loses control right there.
But he manages to control himself, breathing slowly as he stares down at your glistening pussy. Your cream is clear and slippery – an obvious sign that you’re ovulating and extremely fertile. Fuck, fuck, fuck – he can’t wait to fuck his baby into you.
“I’m going to breed the fuck out of you,” Steve informs you lowly, firmly gripping your hips to keep you from thrusting back against him, “it’s about time you were pregnant again, baby omega. You were made to carry my babies, and as my baby wife, that’s exactly what you’re going to do, aren’t you?”
“Yes, daddy!” You sob, “Please, put it inside me, daddy, please, I don’t think I can wait any longer, I just, I need–
“Tell me what you need.” Unlike you, Steve is better at keeping in control of himself. He has to be, because he’s the one in charge – and the juxtaposition of him being calm and you completely losing it, sweating and writhing naked underneath his still clothed body? God, it was so fucking hot.
“N-Need you! Need your knot!”
“Oh yeah?” He gives your ass another harsh slap, so fucking turned on by how it bounces. He jacks of lightly, rubbing the tip of his cock on your wet slit, making you shudder. “Tell me why you need it, baby.”
“B-Because I do!” You cry, earning another rough smack to your ass.
“Not good enough, baby omega. You have to tell me exactly why you want me.”
You’re crying from frustration now, he can see your delicious tears as they drip down on the sheets below you. He knows you aren’t the best at expressing yourself during sex – you’re mostly just begging him or screaming his name or being delirious. But shy little you articulating in desperate detail why you wanted him inside you? God, the idea of that makes Steve want to bust a nut right then and there.
“C-Cause I… ‘Cause I want you inside me, daddy.” You mumble shyly, but there’s nothing shy about the way your body betrays you, pressing your ass against his cock in a bid to get you to fuck him but all it does is earn you yet another slap on your poor butt.
“Do better.” He orders you, “C’mon, omega, you know you can do better. Tell daddy why you want his big daddy dick, and then I’ll decide whether you deserve–”
“PLEASE, DADDY! Want you so, so bad, please, please, please!” You sob in complete abandon, your slick pouring down your thighs, making them all shiny and the bedsheets beneath you all damp. “W-Want my big strong daddy, please, okay?! Want you to knock me up, daddy, need it so bad! Alpha, please breed me, please–OHHH FUCK!!!”
He drives his dick into you in one hard thrust. And fuck, you are so tight that he almost forgets how to breathe. Your velvety walls feel snug and tight against his thick cock, choking it almost. He feels like he’s in heaven, and that’s when his alpha instinct kicks in and he growls, reaching forward to grab your neck from behind.
“Daddy’s been waiting to fuck you all goddamn day,” he growls, tired of holding back and teasing you, and already moving his hips. He pulls his dick out of you, moaning loudly when he sees it coated in your sticky cream. God fucking dammit, you were wetter than he’d ever seen you before, like dripping your juices all over him and the bed and he hadn’t even done anything yet! “You tease me so fucking much, baby. Running around doing your cute little errands, our baby on your hip and you’re in that sexy fucking dress, all flowery and shit like you want to tease daddy, huh?”
SMACK.
He licks his lips as he spanks your ass repeatedly, his hips a blur as he fucks you hard, skin slapping against skin.
“D-Didn’t mean to tease you!” You pant, meeting his thrusts like you’re in heat, which Steve is genuinely beginning to think you are in heat. And it’s making you all submissive, saying all the right things and saying them so innocently: “J-Just wanna be a good wife for you, daddy. J-Just wanna make you happy, ah!”
“Is that right, baby omega?” Steve grabs you by the hair, yanking you up till you’re on your knees only, your back against his front. His other hand slips around to grab your breast, groping it and squeezing it hard, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. And holy fuck, you start leaking milk out again, and it gathers on his thumb. He latches his mouth on his mark on your neck, making you go lax and your mouth go slack. He shoves his thumb into your mouth, making you suck your own milk from his digit. “God, you’re so fucking kinky, baby. So innocent and cute yet so fucking kinky.”
He roughly pushes you back down, pressing your face into the mattress as the feral animal inside of him takes over once more. When his alpha instincts rile up, he has to exert his complete dominance which is why he’s being extra rough with you. Like now, as he watches you scream and bite at the bedsheets, your voice muffled as he holds you down. He’s so much bigger than you, so much stronger. He could really hurt you if he wanted to, because you were just a small baby omega after all. But he wouldn’t, because he loves you. He may push you over the edge, fuck you real rough and hard, but he’d never physically hurt you.
“G-Gonna make you carry my babies,” he mutters, yanking you back up and pushing you down cheek first against the mattress, so he can hear you cry clearer. “You hear me, omega? You’re my submissive little baby wife and you’re gonna carry my fucking babies.”
“I will, I will!” You sob.
He smacks your butt again, so hard that your knees give out and you fall back against the mattress but he yanks you back up by your hips. He hasn’t been this rough with you in a long time. Definitely not since you’d had the baby. You’d been weak and of course, he’d been barred from having sex with you for a few months. It was agony, but he would never want to hurt you like that. Even when the doctor gave you two the green light to have as much fun as you wanted, even then Steve held back for fear of hurting you.
But now, it’s like there’s something feral overtaking both of you. And maybe it’s because you’re ovulating and most probably at the beginning of your heat. It makes the animal inside of him purr and awaken, take his most alpha form and fuck you with abandon like he’s doing now. And it’s not like you’re complaining, in fact, you’re egging him on! Crying and sobbing and yet you continue to meet each one of his thrusts.
“How does it feel, baby? Being the future senator’s baby wife? Taking my daddy dick in your tiny tight pussy like you were made to do it?”
“L-Love being your wife!” You cry out, sounding so cute and earnest and desperate.
“Yeah? You gonna have the senator’s babies?”
“Yes, senator! G-Gonna have more of your babies, daddy! As many as you want!”
You’re so fucking delirious that you haven’t even realised what you’ve addressed him as, but it makes Steve even harder as he continues to rut against you.
“Fucking shake your ass on my daddy dick, baby. Mm, just like that, fuck! Make yourself fucking cum, omega. Is your little baby pussy gonna cry for me right now?”
His words are like magic, because your walls are already squeezing around his dick as you cum. As if you’re so hell-bent on being submissive for him, so determined to do exactly what he says that your body has somehow managed to orgasm on his command. And it makes Steve feel so goddamned powerful.
“Nngh, daddy! Oh fuck!” You whimper pathetically, and your body collapses on the bed, quivering and spent as your walls constrict around his dick, gripping him for all he’s worth as you squirt around him. Coating his dick with your omega cream, getting him so fucking close but he’s not done yet. He yanks your body back into place, continuing to fuck you hard.
“God-fucking-dammit, baby. You’ve already cum twice, huh? Your little pussy can’t ever hold it in, can you?” He scorns, despite the fact that it had been him who’d coaxed you to cum. All you can do is cry deliriously underneath him, and he knows you’re about to pass out soon. And he can’t help but be turned on at the idea of him still fucking you while you were out of it, and then when you regained consciousness, he’d still be fucking you.
Instead, he pulls out, and you immediately whine at the feeling of emptiness. Frowning and looking like you’re about to burst into tears because his dick isn’t inside you anymore, despite the fact that you were so spent already. Steve wastes no time in flipping you over till you’re flat on your back, and he can clearly see your face streaked with tears. He hikes both your legs up, pinning them on either side of your head. Folding you in half, twisting you like a goddamned pretzel just so when he eventually cums inside you, he keeps it inside you.
“Put it back in, alpha!” You beg so prettily, so breathy and weak and spent but still wanting him, “Please, put it back in!”
Steve smirks, forcing his dick back inside you. And your pussy is so slippery, so goddamned lubricated by your arousal, and yet he still has to force his way back in because of how tight you are. Because of how big and thick he is.
“You look so pretty while you’re getting bred, baby.” He chuckles breathlessly, unable to help pressing his lips on yours. It’s crazy how he feels like an animalistic alpha one second, hell bent on brutally fucking his family into you, and then the next second a glimpse of the loving husband comes out, and he needs to kiss your poor bitten, chapped lips.
And you kiss him back so readily, arms winding around his neck, pulling at his hair. The kiss is messy, and he wants to make it messier. He draws back, pressing his thick fingers between your lips to hold them open. And then he spits right inside your mouth, ordering you to swallow it. Of course, you obey immediately, and he’s so goddamned turned on by how much in charge he is. How in complete control he is. How he’s your fucking daddy, your alpha, your everything. The goddamned senator, the richest and most powerful man in New York, with his submissive little omega wife pinned down underneath him.
“Please breed me, daddy,” you beg lightly, like you’re about to faint. Your eyes flutter, but he gives you such an unbelievably hard thrust that you’re jolted back to consciousness. And he watches you carefully, watches as your eyes widen as you look down. He follows your gaze, letting out a rumble from deep within his chest when he sees what you’re staring at.
His fucking cock. Or the outline of his cock as it pokes out of your lower tummy, like the tip of it was all the way inside your goddamned womb. God fuck, he nearly busted a nut right there.
“So deep,” you marvel, making Steve puff his chest out in pride.
“Damn fucking right, omega. You can feel every inch of my daddy dick, can’t you?”
“Y-Yes, fuck!”
He presses your legs against your chest, licking his lips as he watches where you two meet. Watches his huge fucking dick drive in and out of you like it was your fucking job to take him. Your sopping pussy swallows his cock up greedily, and the lewd sounds of sex mixed in with your moans and Steve’s grunts echo around the room.
“Cute, helpless little fucking omega,” he mutters, watching how your breasts bounce at each thrust, how you cry so prettily for him each time he pistons his big dick inside you. “You were made to take my goddamned, dick, you hear me? You were made for me, baby. I’m your alpha and I fucking own this pussy. I own you and I’ll fucking breed you whenever the fuck I want.”
“Yes, yes, yes!” You’d have agreed to anything he’d said at that point.
Steve grabs one of your ankles, kissing up your calf while you moan sexily. And then he licks your foot, teeth tugging at your cute anklet that he’d gifted you a few months ago. It’s got his name on it, another sign of his complete and utter ownership of you. Your toes gleam with white polish and Steve licks his lips, his dick so fucking hard because you are so fucking hot. He can’t help but lap at your foot, kissing up your instep while you moan so fucking loudly. He sucks your toes, the act almost making him bust a nut but he manages to contain himself.
“Gonna keep you pregnant all the fucking time,” He vows, his lips returning to yours. He presses his forehead against yours, forcing eye contact with you, “You hear me, omega? You’re my goddamned wife and from here on out, you’re going to always be pregnant, okay?”
“A-Always pregnant!” You agree weepily.
“Damn fucking straight. And I’ll keep you plugged up with my cum. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Y-Yes!”
“You want daddy’s knot, baby?”
“YES, DADDY! PLEASE!”
Always in perfect sync, the two of you cum at the same time. Steve’s knot swells, locking his dick in place as he blows his load with an almighty roar, spilling his hot seed inside you. His dick is milked by your pulsating walls, your greedy little pussy swallowing all his cum like a good fucking girl as you squirt around him. Both your fluids mingle together, plugged inside by his knot. He angles your hips upwards, just to make sure everything stays inside you.
You’re crying and crying, clutching against him needily as you have another orgasm immediately after the one you’ve just had. And Steve’s still blowing his load inside you, he doesn’t think he’s cum this hard in his whole life, searing you from the inside out with so much cum. Alphas had a lot of cum anyways, but this was an entirely new level. He gently moves his hips, fucking his cum deeper into you, riding you through your orgasm as he cusses under his breath. Your legs shake violently as you cry, burying your head in his chest as you whimper his name over and over again.
Finally, he collapses on top of you, immediately hugging you close and letting you cry into his chest. Smothering you in his heat as you cry due to being overwhelmed, and being fucked so good that you’re delirious and don’t know what else to do.
“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay, I love you, I love you so much,” he coaxes you, your entire body shaking against him. You’re so well and truly spent, fucked exactly how you’d wanted to be, how you’d begged to be. And with one last bit of your strength, you wrap your legs around his waist as if to keep him inside you, and you kiss his collarbones and his neck, trying your hardest to catch your breath as you whimper how much you love him too.
It’s only after a good five minutes of this that he finally speaks.
“Baby? You with me?”
You smile weakly up at him, “Y-Yeah, daddy. That was…”
“…I know,” Steve chuckles hoarsely, kissing you all over your face before laying down beside you. You begin to whine at the lack of contact (despite the fact his dick is still inside you) and so he pulls you on top of him, and you lie there with your head on his chest. And he feels so content, his beautiful wife on top of him, naked and sweaty and thoroughly bred as he traces his name on your bare back.
It doesn’t take long for a smug smile to touch his lips, proud of how thoroughly he’s fucked you. But he doesn’t say anything, neither of you do. You just lay there, basking in each other. Steve admits it’s nice, because this is what he’d been missing all day at work. And he loves you so fucking much.
“Baby?” He asks after several minutes.
“Yeah, daddy?”
“You ready for round two?”
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THE END SKAFALAL
I think it's safe to say omega is definitely gonna be pregnant again after this one shot!! PLEASE let me know what you think!!! Fav parts, diallogue ANYTHINGGG thank you! ily ily
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emmaofnormandy · 2 months
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Imagine Aegon is the father of your children.
Warnings: fluff all the way; canon divergence; long post.
( @dracaryxzs for you! One hopes you might like seeing Aegon happy here)
***
• How it all began…
You are his twin, his other half… What one feels the other feels it too. Naturally, as a result, bond came. Courtiers like to say how “wherever the Lord Aegon goes, Lady Y/N is after him like a loyal puppet.”
What they don’t understand is that you and him are two sides of the same coin, blood of dragon, despite the prince calling you his sun, to which he himself gravitates.
“I cannot not believe you are never bored whenever we are together”, says Aegon.
You both are blossoming into youth. You are the only one he trusts, the one he is naturally charmed to. But something about his age doesn’t let him admit there are feelings too.
“I am unlike any other”, you tell him in turn, a smile on your rosy lips. “We came together to this world, Aegon.”
He gives you a shy smile, lowering his gaze—you tamed him, like, it is said, your grandmother had tamed her husband, your grandsire, when they were both the same age.
Lively and so full of life, not even Aegon can deny you anything.
“Let us ride, shall we?”
And not waiting for a response, he takes you by the hand and in between giggles and chuckles the two of you go after your respective dragons.
Sunfyre has been enamored by Dreamfyre and as a result the female dragon has put some eggs. As soon as you are told this, you tell the object of your affections that:
“See, Egg? Evident signs that we are bonded right here”, and you show him the different coloured eggs.
Aegon smiles at you. How can you make him forget the scars of his troubled soul? How can you even sweep away grey clouds, making it seem that it is possible to find happiness?
When looking at your serenity, at how beaming you are before the eggs you cling yourself to, the prince sees himself in you.
You are the light of my world, Y/N.
As if you feel the tenderness his thought emanates, you turn your head at him and give him an egg.
“We are grandparents now, I’m afraid.”
That makes him cackle. A sound so rejoicing, full of life. Few could tell to have ever heard Lord Aegon laugh merrily.
“Too young for that. Come, Y/N!” And then turning to Sunfyre, Aegon is the image of a boy who finds love and happiness where at home such were taken from him.
You smile warmly when seeing the golden dragon almost smiling itself the moment he welcomes his rider.
A bond as strong as the one I have with my beloved.
Then you are distracted by nearly losing balance when Dreamfyre comes at you, resting her head against your face.
“Calm down, girl. I am not as heavy as you are”, you giggle, gently laying your head over the scales of your dragon, whom you claimed when you were ten years old. “Ready to fly high? To some adventures, eh?”
A sound comes from your dragon’s throat. It’s almost as if she speaks excitedly: “Aye, let us go! I’m ready for it!”, which only increases your good mood.
Now here you two are, flying synchronized, one being the extension of the other. Skies may have some clouds, but sun shines high with some warm breeze that announces summer.
“I suggest we could fly atop Dragonstone”, you tell Aegon over your shoulder. “There’s a spot no one goes there.”
“Rhaenyra is settled there with her children”, says Aegon with an unread expression.
You shrug your shoulders.
“So what? I’ve been there frequently and not once she scoffed me off. I doubt she ever knew I flew to this spot.”
And you flash him a mischievous smirk.
Aegon laughs in turn, realizing he’s unable to deny you anything. Flying as high as he could, there’s little need to tell Sunfyre where to go. As if the creature captured the rider’s thoughts, he flies exactly to where he wants… as does Dreamfyre.
It is almost as if both dragons suspect something may come up… even if you and Aegon don’t know that yet.
*
There is a lake in the midst of vast forests, where silence reigns and there is no sign of any living being. A few hills here and there separate the spot of the rest of Dragonstone.
“How did you come here?”, Aegon inquires you, intrigued by this unusual place. Hardly a man acostumed to wild life, his eyes scan these new surroundings with a mix of suspect and curiosity.
You are untying your hair and loosening your gown—you often ride Dreamfyre in your feast gowns, much to the Queen’s dismay— when you say:
“I don’t think I fit very well at court. I tend to flee whenever I can.”
Aegon is somewhat distracted by your curves, and how poorly hidden your curves are beneath the fabric you dress. He swallows hard, then says:
“We are betrothed. One day you’ll be queen.”
You flash him another of your typical mischievous smirks.
“When have I never performed my duties, brother?”
Aegon shakes his head, but he’s chuckling when he comes next to you.
“Well?”, you tilt your head and the prince seems to notice how handsome you look, wild and free—the way you are born to be. “Aren’t you going to swim with me?”
“Is that a challenge?”, he asks you in a whisper.
You like how he looks at you. Maybe this makes your nipples hard. And maybe this makes him burning inside.
“Perhaps.”
And without waiting for a response, you jump in. Aegon smirks, soon following you.
***
• Summer Children.
His kiss is indescribable. No words can do justice to the warmth his breath gives you, to the bliss it inspires you, to the affection it craves in you. Oh, where are the words when we need most?
Whispers at court regard you and Aegon as the “Baelon and Alyssa” of your age, perhaps two souls reincarnated. Whatever the truth, all you can think about is the taste of his lips against yours.
Not only that, there is more to inspire. As you are riding Dreamfyre in the absence of your lover—he’s been summoned by your father to attend the council—, summer breeze cannot cool down the heat in your heart. And you still recall that night.
Where no living being is found amidst corridors, when, for a moment of weakness, no guard lies awake; when unprotecting is at stake… Here he comes, visiting you.
Boldly so, his steps are silent—right under his demeanor there is a haunted boy, famine for affection, filled with desire to please… but above all, a very insecure man who needs to play pretend before all.
Even though you are not like any other, being in fact the only one who’s witnessed his fragility, he remains blunt in his manners.
Yet when the door opens… and you stand there in your line nightgown with your hair loose, his confidence dies.
“I feared you’d not come”, but there is nothing blunt or arrogant in how you welcome him; but rather tenderness from the moment he’s engulfed in your arms. “I missed you, Aegon. Too much I long for you.”
“My dear Y/Nickname…”, he buries his head against your neck and from the moment he inhales your scent, no pride is strong enough to resist the obvious. “In vain have I struggled to repress my sentiments for you.”
Hearing these words give you the reassurance you’ve been longing.
“Oh you took long enough, didn’t you? I’ve been kept in waiting, but it was worth it.”
One kiss and you are doomed. Aegon waits no longer, not anymore. He takes hold of your face and presses his lips against yours, biting your bottom lip and slamming the door as he leads the way.
“You must promise, though”, you push him away gently, much to his frustration. But you need to be sure… just in case.
“Anything”, his voice comes out in a plea.
You raise your eyebrows and Aegon, though sensing what might be asked of, is willing to pay the price. He is not letting go of you.
“No more whoring. I am no woman of sharing”, you tell him seriously.
Aegon smiles warmly, but you spot relief behind his eyes. He grabs you by the waist and says:
“I am yours and yours alone, Y/N. We came out to this world together, didn’t we? So we are dying together as well.”
“That is some drama you put in there, love”, you smirk before clashing your lips against his.
That night you came to learn you loved riding your dragon and we are not talking about Dreamfyre.
*
Nine moons later, the results of you and Aegon’s indiscretion comes to the world with a very strong pair of lungs.
“Here comes a very strong prince”, so announces the midwife.
You are exhausted after almost 12 hours in labour, a puddle of sweat and blood, but from the moment you are told you delivered a boy, you beamed proudly:
“I performed my duty well.”
Aegon, in the meantime, is left waiting outside, pacing impatiently in the corridors.
“One wonders what witchcraft has Y/N used to keep you in this state”, muses Aemond in his unusual show of sense of humor.
The prince of Dragonstone doesn’t bother answering Aemond, rather limiting to shooting a glare. It’s when Princess Helaena comes with a smile on her lips.
“My brothers.”
“We salute you well, sister. But pray tell us the news soon: is Y/N well? How’s the child?”
“She is doing great, Aegon. She’s recovering and getting some rest. As for the child… congratulations! You have a healthy baby boy!”
Aegon is paled by the news and even Aemond gets somewhat concerned with his older brother, holding him by his elbows.
“Are you well?”
“A boy”, he mumbles. “Y/N gave us a boy.”
“Our line is safe”, Aemond agrees. Then turning at Helaena, he asks: “Has the name been chosen?”
“Well, Y/N wants a traditional name… so she decided to have the boy named after you, Aegon.”
No one had ever seen the prince Aegon this overjoyed. The way he smiles… who wouldn’t be captivated by this sight? Even Aemond smiles too at this sight. Of all the misadjusted family, at least two of them found happiness… though when Helaena looks at him, he’s not too far from it himself.
“I must see her!”
Ignoring Helaena’s advice that no man is allowed in these chambers, Aegon, tradition-breaker, storms inside, demanding to see you.
You have just left your privy quarters dressed in a line nightgown with your hair wet and recently brushed when he comes at you.
“Husband!”, you giggle quietly when you are engulfed by his strong arms. “You should wait for me. I am not churched yet and we must…”
“Fuck traditions. I wanted to see my wife”, says he, peppering your face with tender kisses before looking at you with the devotion of a lover. “Are you well?”
You cast him the most infatuated glance to him, locking your hands around his neck as if there were no witnesses in the room.
“I am, thank you. Nothing that I could not handle myself”, you assure him. “Aegon, I performed my duties. I gave you a son.”
“Even if it wasn’t, as long as the child is healthy and you are healthy too, nothing else matters”, he whispers in your ear.
The prince cannot state enough his relief in seeing you well and safe. By how he holds you close, it is as if he needs another reassurance that childbirth will not steal you of him.
Feeling his fears, you raise your chin and give him that blunt gaze that marks your lively personality which he’s familiar with.
“I have no intention in leaving you alone in this world, unless you choose another to be in my place.”
Aegon gives you a meaningful look before snorting and scoffing at the same time.
“For fuck’s sake, Y/N! How could you possibly consider I’d find a substitute for you? I thought you knew me better, woman.”
You both share a quiet laugh before kissing as if to seal an unspoken vow. Not too far from the scene is the Queen, with her father by her side.
“Who’d know this was coming?”, she sighs, content with the merry scene that rolls before her gaze. “I may have been deprived of happiness myself, but on the other hand… thankfully such a burden is not placed on the shoulders of mine own offspring.”
“Do not be so dramatic, Alicent. This match is as fruitful as yours was”, says Otto, nonchalantly like usual. “But at times even I admit that I can see Baelor and Alyssa once more.”
A struggle he keeps to himself, since Otto and Baelor never saw eye to eye. Leaving such personal haunting aside, eventually this summer prince also named Aegon is seen placed in the arms of his mother.
“He’s a lovely child”, murmurs Aegon, whose head is now resting over your shoulder. “I cannot stop looking away of his delicate features.”
“Perhaps you should hold him”, you suggest in a whisper since the regal baby is asleep in your arms.
“I do not wish to wake him up”, says your husband, though you may detect a degree of panic in his voice.
You find his concern adorable, respecting his time. This afternoon, you and him watch over your newly born soon in great delight of how your love produced a handsome baby.
“Our summer prince”, you beam at him.
Aegon shares a smile with you. He looks thrilled before kissing your forehead.
“I cannot believe I am his father.”
“A doting father as I’m sure you will be.”
At times he doubts it, but this is a shadow he is unwilling to cast in such a bright moment. All Aegon can say is:
“Thank you for believing in me.”
He does blush though when you kiss his cheek and tell him in turn:
“How could it be otherwise? As my other half, you shall burn as bright as any dragon, my sun and stars.”
***
Little Egg, as he is called, is getting every attention Aegon’s father never bother doting his son. Whilst you are breast feeding, just nine months later his birth, a baby girl whom you named Alysanne after your favourite ancestor, father and son are found together at the nunnery.
“Your mother told me she plans to take you and Dear Alys to fly our dragon. I am not discouraging her, but we should best wait for a litttle bit, uh?”, says the protective father whilst rocking his lively and often chuckling boy in his arms. “Oh so you think this is funny? Are you planning to take after your great-grandparents?”
Aegon is holding him still, playing with the boy when the moment is interrupted by a maid.
“Excuse me, sire. His lordship must be fed. And your lady wife has summoned you.”
“Very well”, he stands, with the prince in his arms. “Before I handle you my precious jewel, Lady H/N, I must be certain you have been fed well. After all, you are responsible for feeding my child.”
“Indeed, lord. I am healthy and robust from the day I started the service”, the woman says seriously.
“Good. I appreciate it”, he nods before kissing his son’s temple. When seeing he’s about to weep, Aegon softens: “Do not cry, my prince. This is not a farewell. I shall go back later, I assure you.”
Reluctantly, he parts, though he does wish to go back when hearing a cry. Aegon pauses at the door but when looking back, Lady H/N has taken little Egg inside the quarters.
*
“How is mine faire ladies?”, the soon to be king asks you the moment he steps inside.
“Looking better than you”, you giggle quietly. “What happened, love?”
“I had to leave him with those women”, Aegon grumbles.
“I know. I don’t like leaving him there either, but thanks to you I can only feed one child now”, you laugh quietly.
Alysanne, whose hair is as silver as her parents’s, makes noises and Aegon, now more confident in how handling babies, carefully holds her.
“If I remember well, you were climbing on me when I was trying to sleep just the day you were churched”, Aegon chuckles.
“You keep saying that to yourself”, you lean to kiss his cheek. “You have been blessed with a handsomeness that makes me difficult not to merrily engage in marital affairs.”
Again, your bluntness makes him blush, a deed only you could brag in succeed doing so. Aegon gives you a long, meaningful look.
“Watch your tongue, woman. You don’t know what you are saying.”
But his mischievous smirk tells you precisely otherwise. The connection you two share has never grown stronger…
***
• Midnight Sun.
Little Egg is barely three when Aegon takes him for a ride in Sunfyre and you take two year old Alysanne with you as you mount Dreamfyre. It’s late night and since this family is restless, there’s no obligation to stop them in doing so—as if any would do in other period of the day.
“Fly high, Dreamfyre”, you whisper the command in High Valyrian and the dragon doesn’t need much before taking impulse and… weeeee, you and your excited child finally get to the skies.
“Let us do this, S.”, Aegon tells his beautiful golden dragon, resting his face against the creature’s forehead. “Look, this is the son I told you about. He gets my name, and Gods hope that he takes after my best traits. Not that I have many, but…”
Sunfyre buffs as if saying: oh please, you may not be perfect, but you have great qualities! To which Aegon blushes and smiles.
“You are a great friend, Sunfyre.”
“Daddy”, says Little Egg. “Fly!”
“Calm down young man. Are you in a rush?”, Aegon chuckles at his demanding son.
“Mommy… flew.”
“Oh. She’s always in a rush that woman you call your mother. Let’s do it then.”
And soon Aegon’s smile would spread larger if possible as Sunfyre finally spreads his large wings and begins to fly, the reason why Little Egg is happy.
When they are finally getting higher, Aegon makes sure his son is enjoying it. He wants to create this memorable moment that shall reinforce the bond father and son has.
It’s working since little Egg turns his head to his father and says:
“Amazing!”
“Are you enjoying that, my boy?”
“Yes! More, more! Please!”
Aegon laughs happily and does as requested. They fly as high as possible before diving below to meet you and Alysanne. The scene makes the prince emotional. His wife is looking as beautiful as wild as the day he realized he loved you to an unbearable point.
Sensing his gaze, you turn your head to meet him. And feeling your feelings, Dreamfyre is instantly drawn to Sunfyre.
“How’s it going?”, you ask him, eyes sparkling with delight for making it possible an old dream where you and Aegon, together with children of your own, would fly with your respective dragons.
“Just the way you wanted”, so Aegon tells you as if he’s read your mind.
You and him exchanged loving gazes and sweet smiles, letting the dragons taking the reins of the situation.
Indeed, as your children beam, Dreamfyre and Sunfyre dance.
Such is the dance of the dragons.
**
The toddlers are snoring by the time you and Aegon land.
“They should sleep with us in bed this night”, he suggests you, as he passes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss on top of your forehead.
“I agree”, and then you instantly pause before the door of the red keep. “Aegon… I would like to thank you.”
“What for?”, he asks you, intrigued.
“For giving me these lovely children, for being the partner I’ve always known you’d be. For being my other half.” You smile softly. “I’d die for you, I hope you know that. You deserve to be loved, to all that you are given.”
“Y/N…”, he’s surprised to hearing these words of you, even though Aegon never needed proof of how you felt for him.
You stroke his face, wiping away his tears. Both of you know that you only have each other, and yet it’s enough. Specially now you have children of your own.
Resting his forehead against yours, the prince closes his eyes and kisses you.
“Whatever our souls are made of…”
“…mine and yours are the same.”
***
• Epilogue.
Alysanne is fast asleep when she dreams of dragons. Dragons that fight, dragons that die, dragons that survive. In the midst of chaos, she runs after her father.
Where is he? She calls out his name only to find another who is not in his throne. She wakes up thus, unable to remember the usurper’s identity, a mere shadow. But it’s enough to scare the seven year old princess.
She leaves her privy chambers. It’s still dark, but she needs to be sure he’s there somehow. Alysanne runs barefoot to her parents’ chambers. She opens its door, holding her breath but praising the Gods there’s some fire in the fireplace.
She sees you’re sleeping next to your father, but when seeing he’s there…. what a relief. Yet, the princess is scared to go back to her chambers.
“Papa”, she pokes him. “Papa, wake up.”
Aegon groans lightly, but when seeing it’s his oldest daughter calling him, he only rubs his eyes and makes sure to sit properly, careful in not waking you up.
“Lys”, he calls her affectionately and is probably thankful for wearing some proper garments after early copulating with you. “What’s wrong?”
Alysanne quickly throws her arms around his neck.
“I am scared. I don’t want to lose you”, she sniffs.
Aegon rocks her in his arms, smiling quietly for doing so.
“You’re not losing me. Who told you this nonsense? Has Little Egg been teasing you again?”
“No. He’s been good, actually”, she tells him, holding tightly against his neck. “I had a nightmare.”
For some reason, this gives him shivers. But Aegon isn’t inclined to dig into this deeper.
“A nightmare is just a nightmare. Come. Do you want to sleep with mama and papa today?”
Alysanne smiles brightly. She then kisses his cheek just as you are waking up.
“What happened?”, you ask, worried. “Are you well, my dear Alys?”
“She had a nightmare”, Aegon tells you as if this doesn’t mean anything, but one exchange of glances tells you this isn’t anything. Yet neither should feed it. And you agree. “So I’m letting her sleep with us tonight.”
You nod discreetly before kissing your daughter’s forehead.
“Of course. Like the good old days uh?”
And you watch as Alysanne makes herself comfortable in between you and your husband. Aegon strokes her hair as you cover her.
“Do you think…?” Aegon leaves the question in the air.
“Let us leave to concern about it tomorrow. It’s late.”
Aegon agrees. But neither looks forward to go back to sleep. As he casts a fond gaze at the princess, you take his hand and give it a small squeeze.
“It’s going to be all right. Helaena is doing well with it.”
“I know. But…”
“And at the same time she’s not like Helaena”, you tell him. “Let us not confuse things. It’s going to be well.”
“I just worry. I do not wish…”
Aegon looks away, remembering the wounds of his neglect childhood. There’s little need to explain since you can feel what he feels.
“Aegon, my love. We are not like them”, you tell him firmly. As he looks at you, you stroke his hair and place a lock of his messy hair behind his ear. “We are not like our parents. We are better than them. I’d not say so if I believed otherwise. Just look at how Egg seeks to impress you, how Alysanne came after you tonight… or how our twins Jaehaerys and Jaehaera often run after you.”
Aegon smiles quietly.
“How can you convince me that easily?”
“It’s the truth I speak. Besides… I have to tell you something”, and here you whisper. “I conceived again.”
“Oh how fertile we are!”, Aegon chuckles merrily.
You both kiss, before settling to lay down, careful now with your daughter fast asleep in between you. Shadows for once are pushed and in late night midnight sun comes to shine bright.
Oh these delights…
1K notes · View notes
norrizzandpia · 1 year
Text
Reckless Driving (LN4)
Summary: When McLaren thinks its funny to put Y/n in a sports-car with her boyfriend and a set of question cards. Spoiler Alert: She doesn’t!
Warnings: Absolutely none. TOOTH. ROTTING. FLUFF. ⚠️⚠️ (but if I missed anything lmk)
"Hi, everyone! Today, I am out on the Silverstone Circuit with none other than my beautiful girlfriend, Y/n!" Lando's calming voice brought Y/n nothing but anxiety as she waved to the camera. To say she was nervous for their planned youtube video for Mclaren would be an understatement. She had lost sleep over this. Even though Lando had assured her he would keep her safe, she still couldn't shake off the weariness.
Lando smiled down at her pale face before continuing, "As requested, Y/n and I are going to be taking out onto the circuit a new Mclaren and while I drive, she will be asking me questions which I will answer." He flashed his charming smile at the lens of the camera facing them, "She may be nervous, but it's happening!" He smiled mischievously at her as he grabbed her hand and led them toward the car a few feet behind them.
When they reached the passenger seat and Lando gestured for her to get in, she froze. Standing there with her arms glued to her side and her eyes trained on the seat staring back at her, she felt Lando's presence come closer before his hands landed on her arms and his lips came to rest near her ear.
"Baby, it's going to be fun. Trust me, you know I wouldn't put you in any danger. When you get in that car, your wellbeing will be my responsibility and you know I won't jeopardize it." He whispered for only her to hear.
His words and grounding hands were able to soothe her rapidly beating heart as she took a step into the passenger side of the sports car. Looking back up at Lando, who was bent at the waist and resting his arm on the roof so he could meet her gaze, she found his big smile and a look that said he was proud of her. Leaning into the car more and crowding her space, he laid a kiss on her lips, something the crew were eager to pick up on the footage and give the fans what they wanted.
"Thank you, my love." He said against her lips, his breath fanning out around her face and making her feel warm on the inside.
He soon was pulling away and shutting her door, jogging around the car with rosy cheeks to get to his side. Once he was in, he met her eyes again and laid a hand on her thigh, giving the soft skin a firm squeeze. Before their intimate moment could go any further, Lando's assistant was knocking on Y/n's window and gesturing for them to lower it.
With the cracked window, she was handing Y/n the question cards and reminding the couple to keep it as PG-13 as possible.
"Lando, I'm looking at you. Our usual audience with you is young girls, so please don't pull what you did in the last video where you wouldn't shut up about Y/n's body." Charlotte's words made Y/n blush furiously and Lando laughed hysterically. That video had been filmed two weeks before this one and for some reason, as Carlos and Lando tried Japanese food, he couldn't stop talking about how hot he thought his girlfriend was. Carlos found it amusing as well, but the boys were scolded soon after for making the video risky to post with all the pre-teens who followed them. Nonetheless, the video went viral and everyone was fawning over how cute their favorite F1 couple was.
"I can't make any promises." His comment earned him a glare from Charlotte whose eyes alone could have sent him lying six feet under. "Okay, okay! I won't make any comments like that!" He exclaimed as he raised his hands in surrender, his palms beginning to sweat under her intense stare.
Finally, the couple was left alone to have a conversation while Lando went over 100 miles per hour. If she wasn't nervous before, Y/n was nervous now. She felt like she could puke all over the front of the car once the engine started and Lando's foot came to step on the pedal.
He started out slow, wanting to maneuver his way onto the track before fully stepping onto the gas. Once he made it to the entrance, he stole a glance at Y/n who was clearly alarmed by his hesitation.
Lando sighed as he leaned over the center console and planted a kiss on her shoulder, "We don't have to do this if you're too nervous, Y/n. Seriously, they have so many other youtube ideas to fill this one with. Darling, if you don't want to do this, we don't have to. No one's going to be upset with you."
She smiled at him as her head rested on the seat beneath her, "No, let's do it. I trust you and I know, with you, anything can be fun, even a death ride."
Lando laughed and nodded his head, retreating back to the steering wheel and putting the car in drive. Before he could give her time to go back on her answer, Lando was speeding off and reaching 80 miles per hour in seconds.
The first thing that came out of Y/n's mouth was not the questions she held in her hands, but an ear piercing scream that had Lando laughing hard.
"Y/N!" He exclaimed, "You can't scream like that!" He said through all his laughing as she braced one hand on the window and another on the roof of the car.
He heard her breathe loudly before muttering "Okay, okay" to herself and reading the first question, "What is your least favorite part about being an F1 driver?"
Lando didn't have to think twice about his answer as he rounded a corner and Y/n let out a strained, unidentifiable sound, "My least favorite part is how much it keeps me away from you. I'm always traveling and even though you can come with me sometimes, I'm still away from you more than I would like."
Even through her anxiety, Y/n's heart warmed at his words and she smiled to herself as she read the next question, "What was the first thing you noticed about me when we were first introduced to one another?"
As he went down a straight, Lando stole a suggestive glance at Y/n. The two knew exactly what his answer was considering they had talked about it multiple times over the few years they had been together. When they first met in a club with their mutual friend, Y/n had been wearing a tighter dress that showed more cleavage than she would have anticipated, and since Lando was taller than her, his first glance at her wasn't her face, but her boobs. His continuing glances throughout the night hadn't gone unnoticed by Y/n and if it wasn't for his charming personality, she would have been put off. Lando had since apologized profusely if he made her uncomfortable with his inappropriate eyes, but because of how much she loves him and the fact that he means well, she didn't take it seriously.
Meeting his gaze from the seat beside him, the couple let out a few giggles and when Lando was about to answer honestly, he remembered what Charlotte had warned him about earlier, "Your bod- um, I mean, your eyes?" His statement sounded more like a question which made Y/n keel over with laughter. However, her laughter was interrupted when Lando sped up and took a narrow left turn. With another scream and plea for Lando to slow down, Y/n asked the next question.
"What's been the best thing that came out of your F1 career?" She white-knuckled the handle on the door.
"Well, there are a few things," Another turn of the steering wheel, "Being able to work with amazing drivers has been surreal, fulfilling a lifelong dream, being able to do what I love for work, and, last but not least, meeting the people that introduced me to you."
With a quick glance, Y/n and Lando were smiling widely at each other, "Baby, you are so sweet." She said as he blushed at the pet name and praise.
At the next question, Y/n laughed, already knowing the answer to it, "Have you ever lied to get out of a work meeting or PR event or anything of that sort?"
Lando's jaw opened and closed, "Oh god, I'm going to get in so much trouble. Yes, I have." Y/n was about to speak when he beat her to it, "BUT, it was only because you were really sick and I didn't want to leave you bed-ridden for hours."
She remembered that week very vaguely considering she felt like she was knocking on death's door. She did, however, remember Lando coming into their bedroom in a full tuxedo rambling on about how he wasn't going to his event because he was too worried about her. She had been so out of it, she let him take off his suit jacket, tie, and shoes, so he could unbutton a few buttons on his white shirt and roll up his sleeves to get into bed with her. If she hadn't been so sick, she would have refused his help and sent him off to his event, but once he got under the covers and wrapped her in his arms, she couldn't allow herself to try and push him out of bed.
As he came up on the last straight, Y/n asked her last question, "If you could, what would you change about your life?"
"I would marry you." His answer came out quickly and Y/n had to make sure she heard him right as he came to a full stop in front of the crew.
Lando's nerves took over as he studied her blank expression, although they disappeared when her face broke out into that smile he loved so much.
"I would marry you too." Each of them stared at the other as they laid their heads on the back of the seat. The cameras around the car caught the couple's dazed, lovesick look, something the fans would obsess over in the coming weeks.
To be honest, neither of the two could have anticipated how viral the video would go after it was released. Millions of people viewed and shared the challenge which introduced more people to F1. The clip of Lando saying Y/n's body for what he noticed first about her was an ongoing meme that, thankfully, the fans didn't take too seriously, and the clip of Lando saying he would marry Y/n was posted by millions, saying how it called them single in multiple different languages.
The only con that came out of the video was that, because of its incredible popularity, Y/n was asked to drive in a sports car with Lando all over again.
4K notes · View notes
bettysupremacy · 7 months
Note
Could I request something with James? Where reader lashes out at him and she had arguments with her ex a lot and expected this (her lash out) to get into a really big argument but he’s just like „okay noted“ and super kind about it (a little bit inspired by all my ghosts by lizzy)
(You can obviously change stuff to your liking and no pressure)
all hail lizzy mcalpine. i loved this request and i love james! thank you!
“Im serious, James!” You exclaim, a little louder than necessary. “I miss you! You’re always at practice, or with the boys, and I love the boys! But I miss you!”
He pauses in the doorway, startled by your reaction.
Remus and Sirius miss me too, you expect him to say, or rather, I can’t miss rugby cause you miss me a little more. You anticipate the sting of his words before they come, bracing yourself as you lean back against the kitchen countertop. They don’t come.
“And I miss your hugs.” You tear up pitifully, trying again, rather weakly, as he walks over. You don’t want an argument, but why isn’t it coming? “You’ve been gone so much. You know I hate doing the dishes.”
He grabs ahold of your elbow, his thumb digging into the crease as he pulls you close. Your palms dig into your eyes as your forehead dips against his chest. The way your shoulders shake aches him. He should never be the reason for your tears.
He’s been gone more recently, yes, and he feels terrible about it. If he’s not at rugby, the boys want to see him, and if he’s not with the boys, he’s at rugby. He’s missed you so much recently, he just didn’t know you mirrored his emotions.
“I’m the worst,” James says sincerely. “I didn’t know I was making you feel like this.”
“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, stress evident in your choked voice. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad or guilty, by crying I mean.”
He rocks you back and forth, arms securely over your shoulders. His embrace is a little tight, but this is the longest hug you’ve had this week and you can’t bring yourself to say something.
“Please don’t say that, please don’t feel bad for crying.”
“It’s totally manipulative though, I know, I’m sorry.”
He pulls back, searching for something in your eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s just-“
He looks so sad and confused as you pause midway. Helpless, like he doesn’t know what to do with you. Quietly, you feel bad for giving him the crease between his brows.
“You’re not mad?”
“Mad?” James appalls. “I’m going mad knowing I’m the dolt that made you feel like this.”
“James-“
“I’d totally beat someone up if they treated you like this, I would hate them forever.”
“Stop.”
“No, seriously!” He doubles down. “I would never forgive them.”
He’s so unapologetically him it aches you deeply. He’s rosy, smiles and boyish giggles. Warm in the summer, and warm in the winter. Radiating a kind of glow that only very special people are able to emanate. Sometimes you secretly feel like you’ll never be able to glow like him, but he always manages to bring it out of you when you’re around him.
You frown suddenly. “I’m so tired of missing you, Jamie.”
“I miss you too, lovely.” He’s serious again. “How can we get through this?”
You shrug, unused to this gentle treatment you so desperately deserve.
“Should we install weekly dates, hmm?” James asks. “We should, shouldn’t we?”
You shrug again feeling weak with emotion.
“Or tell the boys to bugger off,” he continues without giving you room to speak. “You’re much too kind to say it but I know, my love.”
You laugh quietly, nudging your cheek against his shoulder. He’s fond, smiling as he watches down to you.
“Oh, my girl,” he croons, grabbing your warm face to cradle. “Totally not to pull the victim card, but I missed you so much more.”
“Really?”
“I moon over you while you’re away. The boys are sick of it.”
He leans down nuzzling his cheek against yours, pulling back to kiss the corner of your mouth, the side of your nose, the apple of your cheek. You don’t know what to do with yourself, letting your wringing hands float up to hold his shoulders.
“Thank you for telling me.” He says honestly.
You reel earnestly. Only James Potter could thank you for trying to start an argument.
“You’re welcome.”
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pikp0kcas3 · 7 months
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The Hazbin Hotel fandom’s issue with accepting aromanticism and asexuality
Now that it is officially Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week, I want to talk about this!
I find that, as an aroace myself, I am constantly grasping at good representation and coming up empty— it usually ends up in one of two ways.
One: the character is portrayed as emotionless, cold, and robotic in nature. It’s the question aromantic and/or asexual people are often asked: “Are you heartless?” The answer is no, of course, but general media makes it out to be the opposite.
Or two: Their lack of attraction is seen as something to “fix” because they “haven’t found the right one yet”, and they end up with a partner as a “happy ending”.
It frustrates me greatly because of how little people actually see aromanticism or asexuality as a true part of the LGBTQIA+ community.
So when I watched Hazbin Hotel, and I found out about Alastor being aroace, I was over the moon. I was on cloud nine. I also saw how his voice actor has looked up the term as an attempt to learn about aroaces, which makes me OVERJOYED?? Amir is truly a blessing, and I love that he’s proud to embody a character that’s part of our community. It’s so beautiful to finally have a proper character, a fan favorite at that, who just so happens to be aroace— and that’s another thing I love about this.
It’s never explicitly stated in the show (though it is stated in interviews), but it’s rather clear when you’re watching, isn’t it? Alastor’s aversion to any sort of sexual advancement, coupled with Rosie’s blatant “I know you’re an ace in the hole” comment sort of spell out his asexuality pretty clearly, as well as what side of the spectrum he falls upon. In addition, his Valentine’s day card was strictly platonic, which caters to his aromantic side. It feels so validating to finally be represented, to finally have a character in media who shares the same lack of interest in romance and sex as I do.
When I entered the fandom to look for more content, I kind of expected to see the same respect for Alastor’s orientation there too. But that… wasn’t the case? I am fully aware that aromanticism and asexuality are both spectrums— of course, aromantic and/or asexual people can enter those kinds of relationships. I’m not denying that and they belong in the community as much as anyone else on the spectrum.
But, the more I see the same line again and again and again, the more it feels like an excuse to just ship what you want.
Usually I don’t mind shipping? I’m often a firm believer in people shipping what they like as long as it’s harmless and they don’t go crazy over it. I also know for a fact that Viv doesn’t have a problem with people shipping her characters. They are fictional, after all.
But in this case, people are ignoring the very thing that makes Alastor a part of the aroace community! People are ignoring his lack of romantic or sexual attraction!
Is this not the same as changing a gay character’s orientation to suit a straight ship? If not, how so? I’m told that we are a part of this community, so why aren’t we being treated like it? Why is it so hard to accept the people on the end of the spectrum who aren’t interested?
Something I’ve been noticing throughout my life is that society has not exactly progressed very much on the idea of accepting asexual or aromantic identities. Maybe we have, a little, since the old days— but hell, people in “the old days”, which in truth wasn’t very long ago, believed that asexuality was a medical condition to be “fixed” by taking the right medication or having sex. That’s a pretty low bar to clear. And on the romance side, you’re seen as a “late bloomer” or “boring” if you don’t express interest. These days, being friends with someone is treated like a gateway to them possibly becoming a lover. Not getting married, not going on dates, not wanting a partner— it’s all treated like a crime when it’s not.
Maybe I’m selfish, or sensitive, or I’m butthurt over nothing, or I’m making it all about me. Maybe I’m gatekeeping or whatever the term is. But please, please, please, I just want an aroace character like me who simply is not interested in sex or romance.
And I want fandom to respect that. I admire the creations that fans make— the art, the animatics, the writing and the character analysis. And I want people to keep creating because creation is indeed a beautiful thing.
But I really would like people to treat aroace identities like they’re important. Like it’s more than just a spectrum to get wiggle room to wrangle in another ship.
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helluvapoison · 8 months
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Nice To Eat You
[ii]
The Vees x Cannibal!Reader
warnings: drugs, suggestive, rosie slander, dark themes, violence, security shenanigans and, hello, cannibalism
heads up: if you didn’t know, the people of cannibal town are hellborn; born in hell, never lived on earth, never sinned! their life spans are unknown(?) but seem to age as a human would, unlike other demons
Cannibal town has been off limits to The Vees, courtesy of Vox, ever since the incident with you know who. Meeting you was a suspicious surprise for them. You were kicked out of said town by Rosie for giving cannibals a bad name. Can you fucking believe the irony!?
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Suspicious might be an understatement
• For the longest time, Vox is unnerved by you for every other reason than your appetite. Anyone associated with Rosie is an adversary by proxy. If you take Alastor out of the picture, Rosie is still an Overlord and all Overlords will inevitably crumble to The Vees– even if they don’t know it yet
• There’s an expression for that though, isn’t there? Keep your enemies close. That’s exactly how Vox went about dealing with you
• Gives you a job as his security guard. Hell knows he needs one, what with the price of fame and all, those dirty fucking sinners that try and touch him wherever he goes
• It’s a slow development because neither of you initiate conversation
• Vox is beyond used to the rotating door of demons in and out of his life. He abandons the names of anyone that isn’t you, Velvette or Valentino (Angel Dust and Alastor he can’t forget against his will)
• Becoming attached to you while simultaneously waiting for the other shoe to drop is fucking awful. It feels it like a bug in his system, annoys him to the point his screen starts glitching one day
“Just what the fuck are you up to!? I know you’re with Rosie–”
You knew, on some level, Vox didn’t trust you all the way but it didn’t bother you because he hardly seems to trust anyone. So you cut him off with a mix of a snort and a scoff,
“Rosie? Rosie’s a cunt. She gave me the boot years ago, haven't seen her since.”
Involuntarily, he begins to smile, “Years, huh?”
• Trust is another slow endeavor. Now that Vox doubts your motives slightly less than before, he can silently appreciate the fact you do a damn good job of keeping demons away from him. Bonus: if you happen to take a chunk out of them for shits and giggles, blood never touches his pristine self
• “I believe I owe you an apology,”
“Am I going to get one?”
• In a way, sure, but you’ll be sorely disappointed if you thought it was with words. He invites you to dinner. From that moment until you arrive at the restaurant, he’s reveling in the constant state of shock you seem to be in
• Your eyebrows jump when the waiter nervously lifts the lid from your plate and reveals ribs. Real, demon ribs
“Surprised?” Vox asks rather smugly
“Somewhat,” You return his sly smirk, “Most can’t stomach my… indulgences.”
“I don’t have a stomach. I think I’ll be just fine.”
˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Vel doesn’t give two steaming shits about Rosie or her backwards, unflattering town so long as it doesn’t interfere with her enterprise. Vox’s grudges are his own. If The Vees got hellbent and demented over each other’s EOTD (Enemy Of The Day) nothing would get done!
• During a pathetic comment war on the her social, a few threats became too detailed for Vox’s liking
• A cannibal wasn’t his first choice– or second, or third– but you’d certainly scare off anyone trying to hurt his business partner!
• Velvette’s far from worried about being lunch when she meets you.
• “You’re my–? No. Absolutely not! I can’t be seen with this.” She gestures to all of you
“You’re not exactly making me drool either,” You mutter under your breath
• Judging by the looks of her partners’ faces, stunning Velvette to silence was impossible. Key word: was
• It didn’t last long and hasn’t stopped since
• She pulled out every trick in the book to get you to quit. She gave you a uniform to wear during your shifts, tossed fabrics at you until you turned into a living clothes rack, forced you to hold her phone during her live streams but criticized and berated the way you did
• For fucks sake, she even screamed at Vox to let her fire you!
• You didn’t need her to like you and that was as obvious as it was infuriating. She was Velvette! Everyone loved her! Having you around was like a black eye; literally bruising her ego and bad for business
• Or so she thought
• She made you stand in the shadows of her studio so you wouldn’t frighten anyone and ruin photoshoots with your “freaky face” she so eloquently put it.
• Velvette was mid fashion crisis, yelling at Joanne for the gazillionth time, when you approached from behind
“I’m taking my lunch.”
“Fucking fantastic! Here, have Joanne since she insists on being fucking useless!”
Playing along, you let a guttural growl rip from your throat, making Joanne jump high in the air.
She squeaked and shook her head vigorously, holding her hands in surrender, “I-I’ll be better, I swear!”
• Her candy cane eyes widened in delighted surprise. How had she been so blind to your potential usefulness!?
• Velvette could get high off the new game she created with you. It was like having a scary guard dog– only better dressed to aesthetics. Paparazzi didn’t dare touch her now, standing at a respectable distance that made her more unattainable and desirable than before
• Her attitude change makes her like-able to you too, she’s heaps more pleasant to be around now. You don’t mind doing the extra stuff that wasn’t in your contract like being a dress up doll, dealing with the pet names or escorting her to events. She knows and takes advantage of this instead of saying how she feels
• “You’re my arm candy now, dollface! You go where I go.”
“I hardly think I qualify as arm candy,” You mumble to her, overtly aware of how she holds you close to her
“If you’re fishing for compliments, fuck off to another pond. I don’t waste my free time with uggos,” She says seriously, abruptly smiling as a camera flashes in her direction, “Now get ready. Fans have been dying to get a picture with me lately and if anyone smudges this dress with their dirty fucking fingers, I want you to bite them off!”
“Anyone that touches you won’t have hands tomorrow,” You promise
• You swear she shivers upon hearing that
˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• The easiest by far to get along with. In a mortifying way
• Val is fairly accepting of all Hell’s creatures. It’s typically followed up by something sexual but, hey, you’re not in a position to complain, not when no one else in Hell would willingly sign up to work with a cannibal. Especially one outside the confines of Rosie’s civil town
• Rosie’s loss is his gain
• You would be lying if you said you weren’t expecting him to turn horror-struck but he barely blinks when you explain what you did to get exiled. Your savage methods intrigue him, a plethora of potentials just waiting to be explored. In fact, he goes a step further to praise you for being different
• “Hell would be deathly boring if everyone thought the same way, darling. That’s what makes you so… alluring.” He rolled his tongue with the last word, dragging it out and making it ring in your ears
• You’d been called many things in your afterlife, but never that
• You feel rather useless at the moth’s side. You were supposed to be protecting him but he could take care of himself just fine. Val was about the tallest in every room (if not the tallest) with guns hidden under his coat that he never used
• Later you’d understand he only reached for them as a last resort, when his head was unclouded by blood lust
• If you ever voiced your complaints, he’d be quick to reassure you that you make him look good. What powerful Overlord doesn’t have bodyguards? (Do. Not. Answer.)
• However the day does come when you prove your services have merit. On set of all places! A coked up Hellhound didn’t take kindly to Val’s directions, sending a demon wielding a boom mic flying towards him
• Valentino dodged the demon with ease, whipping around and aiming his pistol to put the dog down. Instead he saw you pushing the mutt’s face into the ground, his arm pinned at an angle. Your sharp teeth were bared at his throat, drool dampening his fur
• But you made no moves without Valentino’s say-so
• There’s a lot he could say about the scenario you provided him and how it made him feel– but he only calls your name, beckoning you back to his side
• Where you belong
• “You’re lucky I don’t like hair in my food,” You growl in the Hellhound’s ear before following after Val
• Valentino may be a mastermind of porn and sex but he knows the real way to a demon’s heart, it’s is the universal love language
• Unbothered by blood, he’ll sit pretty and poised on his loveseat while you tear into the meal he provided you. A thanks for a job well done
• “You’ll never go hungry now that you’re with me, monstruo,” The pet name is dripping with adoration, “I won’t waste you like that bitch did. Look at you, you’re already so special.”
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ i lost the request that went to this but i hope it reaches them. cannibal!reader got that rizz, huh?
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sunberies · 1 month
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I WANNA YAP ABOUT MY SILVER LININGS GROPPY AU🗣️🗣️🗣️
Ok so, the first like 2 or 3 months after Rosie hatches is like hell on earth for Branch. She cries every night and he can’t bring himself to sing to her to try and soothe her (I feel like singing to the baby trolls is very important for their development) and it makes him feel like a failure.
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He doesn’t let Poppy know that he’s having a hard time either, because she’s a busy troll and this whole situation is basically his fault (that’s what he thinks) so he tries to do all this on his own.
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Poppy finds out after going to check on him and Rosie and finds Branch just absolutely passed out on the floor. After that they have an important conversation (that they should’ve had before but oh well) where Poppy tells Branch that he isn’t in this alone, and that she wants to help. (Branch gets very emotional over hearing Poppy telling him he doesn’t have to do anything alone anymore) They eventually agree that Poppy should stay in the bunker, and Branch cleans out a room just for her(she doesn’t really use it because she wants to stay with Branch)
Ok that’s all I’ve got right now bye bye :3
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Code of Conduct 1
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 
Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜
💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼
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“Mr. Rogers’ office. This is Rosie, how can I hel--” 
“Where is he?” Peggy’s voice cuts over your own. 
“Oh, hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s currently in a meeting--” 
“Get him.” 
“Mrs.--” 
“Don’t argue with me. Go get him. Are you not his assistant?” She challenges brusquely. 
Her accent adds to the sharpness of her words. Her curt demeanour is a stark contrast to her husband. Your boss is always amiable, accommodating even, but the few times you’ve dealt with his wife have been similarly tense. You put a smile on so she can’t hear your anxiety. 
“Of course, Mrs. Rogers,” you preen, “I’ll put you on a quick hold.” 
“No, you will get him. No hold.” 
You suck in a sigh and hold your breath in your chest, “of course.” 
You set the phone down. You don’t see how her hearing your desktop will be any better but you wouldn’t want to irritate her further. It must be urgent. 
You stand and smooth out your dress. You step out from behind your desk, digging your nails into your palms as you ball your fists tight. You get nervous about most things. Answering the phone took your months to get used to and even now you tend to fumble over your words. 
You go to the door and brace yourself. You don’t know why you expect Mr. Rogers to be upset. He’s never been anything close to rude. Maybe short in times of stress but not unpleasant. You knock and wait as you twiddle your fingers against your striped pleats. 
It isn’t Mr. Rogers who answers by Mr. Barnes. You give a sheepish smile, “excuse me, doll.” 
He steps past you and you bid him a good day. He leaves without further courtesy and Mr. Rogers calls your name from within, “need something?” He asks. 
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Rogers is on the phone.” 
He doesn’t seem happy about that. His cheek dimples and he nods, wiggling his pen at you, “patch her through.” 
You go back to your desk and pick up the receiver, “hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s available now--” 
“I don’t want to talk to you, honey. Where is my husband?” 
You transfer her without another word. Phew. You almost feel bad for your boss as you hear him pick up in his office. His tone is low and dull. 
You try not to overhear, letting his conversation drone into a buzz. There’s enough work to be done without worrying about his personal life. Your own afterhours concerns are more than concerning. You wouldn’t say you have much going on and that’s the problem. It’s moment like those that ease your envy of others’ full plates. 
You haven’t seen the girls lately. The group chat’s been quiet but you suppose you could go ahead and say hi. Your weekly cocktails petered out to biweekly, then monthly, and now you can’t remember the last time you let go with a mimosa. 
You peek over your desk and back at your screen. It’s not only on them to keep things going. You pick up your phone and open the chat. The last message is a meme Elfie sent about printers. You shake your head and send a little waving sticker, keying in a message. 
‘Long time no see! I’m in need of drinks. Anyone free? When’s best? Hope you’re all taking care.’ 
You’re professional tone shines through even on WhatsApp. It’s a bit lame but you’re an entirely different person in text. Most people are surprised to meet the mousy secretary hiding behind her screen after the lively back and forth in Outlook. 
You set your phone down and try not to stare at it. A reply never comes while you’re waiting for it, nor does water boil when you’re watching it. As you click around and try to remember where you were, the silence sinks in. Your realisation brings your eyes up as quickly as Mr. Rogers shadow. 
You bat your lashes at him in surprise, “need something, sir?” 
He gives a half-smile, the type weighed down by disappointment. He sighs and crosses his arms, leaning on the door frame, “you hungry?” 
“Um, well, it’s only eleven,” you shrug. 
“Mm, yeah,” he unfolds one arm to rub his neck, “I’m restless. You feel like getting lunch early?” 
“Sure, I can run out and grab you something,” you stand eagerly. 
“No, uh,” he drops his arm back over his other, “together. I had a reservation for me and Peggy but she canceled. I’d hate to inconvenience the restaurant and I just can’t sit and mope in my office.” 
“Oh, okay, I guess that works...” 
“Do you need to ask your boss?” He scoffs. 
You laugh at his joke, “do I?” 
He smiles, a real smile and drops his arms, “my treat. You know what, you earned it. You work so hard around here, a little employee appreciation is overdue.” 
“That’s so nice,” you chime, “uh, sir, I... I should leave an away message, should I?” 
“Oh, who cares, come on.” 
“Well, I mean...” 
“Ah, I get it, boss is a real hard ass,” he winks. 
“Sir,” you giggle nervously and teethe your lip. He watches your mouth. 
“You can catch up later. Come on, I haven’t played hooky in years.” 
“Hooky?” You stammer. 
He laughs, “a goody two shoes. It’s why I hired you but it’s okay to let loose once in a while.” 
“I know, Mr. Rogers, it’s just... it’s work.” 
“Too much of it and you’ll turn into me,” he huffs. “Please, I’m sure your husband would hate if you were never home. Never answered the phone.” 
“If I had one, probably,” you blurt out then look away shyly. 
“Really? I thought...” he begins and shakes his head, “doesn’t matter. I’ll grab my jacket and we’ll go. I missed breakfast.” 
“Um, sure, sir,” you agree and put your hand on the phone. 
When he turns, you look down. Missie sent a reply; ‘please, drinks are required!’ Ooh! Yay. 
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rose-pearls · 9 months
Text
Healing one cut at a time
Summary : Clarisse first goes to the med bay because she is forced by one of her siblings but the following times are just to see the daughter of Apollo again.
Requests are open!
Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989
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“I told you; I am fine!”, you can hear someone grumble from behind you but you turn back to the twelve-year-old girl in front of you that had fallen and twisted her ankle.
“And I am telling you that you should just go to make sure it is fine,” as you turn around to find what the squabbling is all about, you find Clarisse and one of her brothers glaring at each other.
You couldn’t help but swallow hard at the sight of Clarisse, she had her hair down after capture the flag, and somehow still looked beautiful after running around for three hours.
Clearing your throat, you smiled awkwardly at the two Ares children who looked surprised at your sudden appearance.
“How can I help you?”, you ask softly, after a few seconds of awkward silence. Clarisse seems struck as she watches you with wide eyes, her brother has a smirk as he turns back to you.
“Right, this one was hurt during capture the flag and although it doesn’t look too bad, we just wanted to be sure.”, he says, and you can see Clarisse coming back to herself at her brother’s words.
“You wanted to be sure,” she says with a scowl on her lips, and even then, you can’t stop thinking that she looks stunning.
“Well let’s just make sure, we never know,” you tell them before nodding towards the small bed in the corner.
She doesn’t look so hurt, so you’re surprised to see a cut in her leg, probably done by a sword but she doesn’t look affected at all.
“The good news is that it doesn’t look too deep so I just need to disinfect it and it will be all new after that,” you tell the two as you look over the cut.
As you look up from the wound you see a wide-eyed Clarisse staring back at you, rosy cheeks and owlish brown eyes making your stomach flutter.
“Great!”, you hear suddenly as her brother claps in his hands making the both of you jump in surprise.
“I’ll go get the product.”, you quickly whisper, feeling slightly embarrassed at having been caught looking at the girl.
You can hear the both of them arguing, particularly Clarisse scowling her brother, while he seems far too happy to be in the med bay.
“Someone needs to push you,” you hear him say before you arrive and the both of them turn to you, their conversation suddenly over.
“Hope I’m not interrupting,” you can’t help but say and the both of them shake their heads in disagreement.
“You didn’t!”, her brother says, and you nod slowly before taking the product and softly taking Clarisse leg in your hand.
“This might hurt a little,” you warn her even though you know that the girl will probably not show any type of weakness.
You whisper a few words under your breath as you pass the product on her cut and after a moment it starts healing itself.
“There you go, all new,” you say, and Clarisse seems a bit disappointed at the sight.
“Right, thank you I guess.”, she says after clearing her throat.
“Thank you for the help! We better get going,” he says before taking Clarisse with him, the girl looking back one last time with a timid smile, one that you would’ve never thought you would see Clarisse wearing. 
--
She was being stupid, she knew it, hell her whole cabin knew it too, but she just couldn’t stop going to see you at the med bay. She would use every excuse possible, hoping to catch a glimpse of you and you sweet smile.
“Clarisse, what happened this time?”, she hears you ask, your voice like music to her ears.
“My idiot of a brother didn’t watch where he was throwing his arrow,” she says, feeling slightly ashamed of the fact that she had been here every day until you smile at her warmly.
“Come sit down, I’ll look over it,” she does as is said and can’t help but feel a little excited at the prospect of you taking care of her. 
She didn’t want to feel weak, and the way she felt weak at your touch made her scared, but she couldn’t help coming back and having your whole attention solely focused on her. Her father would probably be telling her that she was weak but when you would talk with her softly, as to not disturb the sleeping children, she couldn’t help but forget all about him.
“You’re beautiful,” she realizes she has said the words before she can think not to say them. There is a loud silence, as you look at her slightly in shock, like a fish out of water.
You open your mouth to say something but before she let’s you have the opportunity to respond she fled the scene. Her face is hot with shame and embarrassment at her slip up, already making a plan at how to best escape the situation, and you specifically. That is until she feels a hand on her arm, making her turn around to face you.
You look slightly breathless from having ran after her, but you still look as beautiful as the first day she had seen you. She had fallen for you the moment she saw you; her siblings had quickly caught onto her crush and as much as they teased her, they would often tell her in the quiet of the night that she should go for it, go for the little sunshine that she could have. 
“You often leave a conversation without letting the other person answer?”, she hears you say, making her look at you in surprise.
“Guess I didn’t know how you would react,” she can’t help but say as she looks into your sad eyes.
“Well, maybe if you had stayed a bit longer you could have heard my response,” you say with a soft smile.
“What is that?”, the curiosity is killing her, but she also feels scared for the first time in a long time. 
“That I think that you are beautiful, probably a thousand more times than me,” she hears you say, and she suddenly feels breathless at your words but can’t help but disagree with a scoff.
“Please, you are the most beautiful woman, even Aphrodite herself would be jealous of your beauty,” the words are filled with passion, a passion that she usually only held for fighting and capture the flag. The surprise in your eyes make her feel suddenly shy, but as you get closer to her, she gets a whiff of your perfume making her relax slightly.
“That is probably not true but thank you,” you whisper, now closer to her than you have been before, but she still scoffs as she hears you disagree with her previous statement.
She gets ready to argue but before she can start, she feels your lips against hers, and for a moment she can’t think. Her stomach is bursting with butterflies and the smell of you is all around her.
Just as she feels you stopping the kiss, she wraps her hands around your cheeks, bringing you into a passionate kiss, hoping to make you understand everything she feels for you.
“You drive me crazy, sunshine,” she whispers, breathless, after the most dizzying kiss and she wants to kiss you again until she has no air in her lungs.
Your small giggle makes her smile and peck your lips softly.
“Who knew you could be so sweet La Rue,” she hears you whisper teasingly against her lips, and she can’t help but roll her eyes at your words.
“Only for you. Better keep this to yourself because it could ruin my reputation,” she says, a small warning in her voice but you just nod in agreement.
“We should go back to the med bay to look at that cut of yours,” she hears you say, a worried tone coating your words.
“Don’t worry beautiful, I’m fine. The only thing I need right know is you close to me and kisses,” she says as she brings you even closer by the waist, with a smirk as she sees you blushing.
“That can be arranged,” you whisper against her lips before she brings you back into another mind-blowing kiss.
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