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dirtysvthoughts · 3 months

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strawberry icing on your lips 🍓 - svthub valentine’s day collab

tags/warnings: fluff for the first half, smut for the second half, a bit of pwp, boyfriend! shua, female! reader, baking at home, lots of kissing, fingering, nana tour inspired, shua’s kinda a flirt in this one heh

word count: 1.45k

notes: hey besties! happy love day and i’m beyond excited to share my first svthub collab work! this valentine’s day collab was hosted by the amazing @wongyuseokie thank you supporting us! 🥰 please check out the other author’s works as well! :) this is my next biggest work for shua after private dancer, so i hope you all enjoy! to my lovely valentine @gyuhanniescarat i hope you enjoy reading and i love you have a safe and beautiful valentine’s day & carat day! 🥰

“okay, flour, eggs, milk.. what else are missing?” you ask observing the ingredients in front of you, moving them around to make sure nothing was hidden.

“are the strawberries on the table? oh man, we almost forgot the butter too!” your boyfriend remembers walking to the fridge, reaching for the said items.

you and your boyfriend joshua have been together for three years and the two valentine’s days you’ve spent together have been nothing short of wonderful. for the past two years, you’ve gone out on valentine’s day, but after he came back from a recent europe trip, both of you decided to stay at home this year. you wanted to give him some time to relax and get readjusted to being back at home.

in recounting his europe adventures, he told the story of the time he took a cooking class in rome. he made four different pastas from scratch, all with delicious sauces and wine pairings. hearing joshua tell you of his experience with the excitement and joy made your heart swell, which led you to an idea.

“hey josh, instead of going out this year, why don’t we make our own dinner at home? it sounds like a lot of fun from what you just told me. ooh! we could even bake something too! i’ve been looking at a ton of new recipes lately!”

your boyfriend sweetly laughs at your enthusiasm and kisses your forehead, “let’s do it then! we’ll have a nice candlelit dinner at home this year.”

back in the present, you two have finally gathered all the ingredients to get started with your dessert course - vanilla cookies with a strawberry cream icing. since dinner wouldn’t take as long to make, you decided to get the dessert portion out of the way first.

“hmm let’s see, i’ll work on the flour mixture first, do you wanna work on the icing?” you ask joshua, setting the stainless steel bowls out on the counter. “sure! can you pass me the heavy cream and sugar?”

soon, a comfortable silence surrounds the kitchen, the two of you working side by side, mixing and whisking ingredients together. there is one moment where you accidentally reach for the butter at the same time, gently laughing together as joshua rubs your hand, admiring your soft, delicate skin. you can’t help but blush at the feeling of his hand on top of yours.

more time passes and now, you’re working on molding the shape of the cookies together. joshua is just about done with the icing as well, testing the ribbons of cream as it drips off the whisk and back into the bowl.

“babe,” he turns his head toward you, still focused on flattening what is now your sixth cookie. you hum in response, not looking up just yet. “can you taste the icing for me? i think it’s done, but it might be missing something.”

you finish molding your cookie and quickly grab a spoon from your utensil drawer. you scoop a small bit of icing on the edge of the spoon, nearly melting at the sweet taste and smooth texture of the icing dancing across your mouth.

“josh, this tastes so good!” you exclaim happily, scraping a bigger spoonful this time, giddy as ever as you put the spoon to your mouth again, loving how everything combined to make such a delicious icing. “you did amazing baby! it has the right of amount of sweetness and everything!”

this time, joshua can’t help but blush at your continuous flow of praise, but he also couldn’t help but get hot from watching you taste the icing - your cute lips pressing together and the humming you made the second time you taste tested was not helping the rush of blood that went down to his body.

joshua quickly notices that you have a little speck of icing left on your lips, quickly seizing it as an opportunity to give into temptation and get his hands on you.

“hey baby, you have a little something right-“ he drags out the last word as he holds your jaw with his right thumb gently, his soft, gentle lips meeting yours. the kiss takes you by surprise, but you quickly melt into your boyfriend’s touch as you tilt your head to give him more access inside of you. the two of you establish a rhythm for a few moments until you pull away first, slightly breathless and a pleasant, heavenly daze taking over your body.

“there,” joshua finishes, chuckling as he holds you by your waist, lifting you up so you can sit on the edge of the counter. he swipes his left thumb across your lips and licks his own while you watch, the motion sending arousal down your spine.

he doesn’t hesitate to kiss your neck soon after, quietly moaning as his lips nibbled on your body’s sensitive spots. you push your bowl full of cookie dough to the side as joshua’s hands come underneath your tank top, roaming your soft skin.

with ease, he takes off the piece of clothing, lips moving from your neck to the center of your chest. this time joshua becomes bolder, letting his tongue get some action as he licks and sucks on the space between your breasts.

“sh-shua.. shua, o-ohhh,” you moan out louder this time, wanting him to hear how good he’s making you feel. you’re so caught up in the pleasure that he was giving your chest that you don’t even notice his fingertips walking along your thighs, then underneath your skirt - and eventually to your panty line.

before you can even say anything, joshua’s fingers pull the waistband back and let it go, snapping against your waist. you gals and bite your lip in pleasure as your body goes slightly forward and joshua smirks in return. his fingers continue to tease at your panties, the pink lace nearly making him form heart eyes in front of you.

“you’re so pretty for me,” he breathes out, dragging your panties to the side with two fingers. “always, so, so pretty,” he repeats as he slowly inserts another two fingers inside of your core, chuckling at how wet you already are.

“coating my fingers and i haven’t even started with you yet,” he scoffs. “just a needy little girl, aren’t you?”

“only for you,” you whine back with doe eyes. “only you make me this wet.”

“good to know,” he smiles as he starts pushing his fingers in and out at a steady pace, your whines becoming more breathy and high pitched. “mmmm, more, shua - please, more…” you request, eyes starting to glisten like diamonds.

“i’ve thought about this before.. taking you down in the kitchen, especially while i was away taking those cooking classes.. just even imagining you pressing up against me while prepping the ingredients was enough to get me hard,” joshua confesses. “seeing you get so excited over the icing, i couldn’t help my myself baby,” he softly smiles as he holds you by your chin again and kisses you, this time, his fingers making a circular motion inside of you.

whatever noises you release now are deep inside of his mouth, craving for more of him as you entwine your tongue with his once again. you feel the pressure in your body start to build, knowing that you were going to come soon.

joshua then begins a scissoring motion in your pussy, the highest pitched noises you didn’t even know you could make were pouring out of your mouth like a river. you were practically panting joshua’s name out now, begging for him to make you come, promising you will come like a good girl.

after one particularly good thrust, you release all over his fingers, coating them in your deliciousness. you pant into his chest, leaning forward as you take in his scent again, trying to regain your breath, but not wanting to come down from the amazing high.

“i don’t know what tastes better, you or the icing,” joshua teases when you sit up, looking into his eyes.

“you flatter me,” you playfully roll your eyes as you hold his hand, turning around to take a look at the clock. “well, we still have some time left before we actually start cooking the main course.. did you wanna-“

before you can even finish your sentence, he hoists you up again, and laugh, legs immediately wrapping around his waist as he walks you to the bedroom.

“i haven’t even done half the things i wanted to do with you yet this valentine’s day.. c’mon my pretty girl,” joshua swoons, moving your hair from your eyes. “dinner can wait just a bit longer.”

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star-writr · 8 months

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Kitchen Kisses

Yet another 10th doctor x reader. Am I ashamed? Yes. Will I stop obsessing over this man any time soon? Absolutely not. Requests are open. Sorry if this is short, I wrote it in a hurry. Reader is gn and as always this is also on my Ao3. Idk if I should start making a masterlist. Enjoy!!

Cooking wasn't easy for you.

Every time you even came remotely close to a stove, it seemed ready to explode. Even so, you could manage on your own most times. You could warm up milk and boil pasta with (almost) no problems. Plus, you could always count on delivery.

You couldn't count on someone to deliver you a pizza, however, on a spaceship like the TARDIS. You also couldn't count on your culinary skills anymore, because you ended up being continuously distracted by the Doctor. He had the tendency to often look over your shoulder and suddenly ask if whatever you'd been cooking was ready, or if you needed anything, or if that fire in the corner was normal (it never was).

Nevertheless, you never gave up. Alien food couldn't always be healthy for you, you thought, referring to all the snacks the Doctor got for you in your travels; plus, you really wanted to impress him. "One of these days you're going to crawl to me begging for a recipe", you jokingly bragged, making him smirk; "yeah, sure, one of these days", he replied sarcastically, getting your cheeks all red.

It had been a rough day, full of adventures and trouble, and you had been left with a headache and too little to keep your hands busy with. You'd decided to scurry over to the kitchen to attempt (and probably fail) at making an omelette. You played some music on your cellphone and got to work.

Step one: crack the egg. Done. Step two: heat the pan. Also done. Step three: add the oil. You almost burned yourself, but nevertheless you got it done.

You looked around before going onto step four. It was odd. The Doctor wasn't around to distract you, the music was relaxing, nothing was on fire. It almost seemed impossible. Nonetheless, it wasn't over yet.

Step four: add the egg. You poured the liquid into the fizzing oil very carefully. Success! In your head you cheered, a smile making its way onto your lips.

Suddenly, you felt yourself being hugged, and audibly gasped. Realizing it was only the Doctor (who else but him smelled like candle wax and argan oil?) you sighed, relieved. "You scared me."

"Sorry. Whatcha making?" he asked, peeking at what was cooking in the pan. "Egg?"

"Yeah. I'm making an omelette. Wanna share?"

"If it survives the process," he laughed. You giggled with him. "What's that music?"

"Just my playlist. It was supposed to help me stay focused."

"Why are you using the past tense?"

"Because now you're here to distract me, aren't you?"

The Doctor smiled. "Not at all!" he chuckled. "Why do you think that?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Because you always distract me."

"You mean you can't focus when I'm around?"

"Yes." You realized what it sounded like as soon as the Time Lord stared at you with his satisfied smirk plastered onto his face. "Wait. No. No, I didn't mean that. Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I said exactly what you wanted to hear."

"Well, maybe you did say exactly what I wanted to hear."

There was silence for a couple seconds. His arms were still around you. He was so warm.

His lips were also warm. They made their way over to yours, erasing every inch of space left between the two of you. Your breaths slowed down. Time didn't stop, it went on and on and on, and the seconds you shared with your bodies pressed together like that didn't feel like years to you, but maybe to the Time Lord they did. You were broken apart by the sound of the oil fizzing a little too loud. With his arms still around your waist, the Doctor turned off the stove.

"Better get back to your cooking", he whispered, testing the waters.

You smiled. "Why would I do that now? I'm busy."

"Busy?"

"Indeed. Very busy kissing your stupid face until you say sorry for startling me earlier."

The Doctor gave you one of his best smiles. "Well, then, let's get down to business. But I'm not saying sorry if that means you'll stop kissing me. You know that, right?"

"You dumbo. C'mere", you murmured, kissing him again.

#doctor who #10th doctor x reader #david tennant #10th doctor imagine #10th doctor #doctor who x reader #x reader #gn reader #drabble

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ryo-apologist · 2 months

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Shiggy's Slutty Lil' Waist

Shigaraki Tomura x Reader

CW: Smut, Minors DNI, I will block your ass, talk about crop tops on men and gray sweatpants. Don't like? Bully me it'll be foreplay <3 /j

AN: I saw a picture of Johnny Depp in a crop top. We all know the one. And yk what? Shiggy has the same slutty lil waist. And so far all three of my posts have been about Shiggy. Will that change? Idk ask me next week. It's my comfort character and I can seek toxic comfort WHEN I WANT-

~Darling XOXO

☾ Shigaraki Tomura has the sluttiest fucking waist.

☾ That's it. That's the post.

☾ No, I'm kidding. I'll elaborate for thirsty whores like me. And Barbie. Shout out to them.

☾ Shigaraki obviously has the fits going for him. Name one outfit he wore that didn't slap. Exactly. You can't. So contrary to what people think, I think Shigaraki takes a bit (Not a lot, do not get me wrong) of care in how he looks. He has an image to maintain after all. How can he be expected to be the big, bad leader of the LOV if he doesn't look like it.

☾ That being said, I think at some point it just comes naturally to him to dress in ways that suit his body.

☾ And we all know he has the body to do so. After he left that big ol' test tube? Did y'all SEE his arch? Fuck man I couldn't arch better if I TRIED. Like,-

☾ Okay before this post turns into a tiktok comment section on the thirstiest of Gojo Edits, let me continue.

☾ My point here, is he probably doesn't dress like we see in the anime all the time. That would get tiring. Drain his mana level if you would. And he needs time to recharge.

☾ So, In this essay post, I'm here to argue that Shigaraki Tomura wears crop tops that barely brush past his nipples to show off his slutty little waist.

☾ You know, the shirts that had a hole in the front? Instead of sewing them like a reasonable man, he rips them from that hole all the way around. Which means his crop tops vary in length. Every single one of them.

☾ And that leaves perfect access for you to wrap your hands around his waist and just hold him like that. He hates it. No, he doesn't.

☾ In all truth, Shigaraki loves the feelings of your hands on his midsection because it's such an intimate place to him. He loves feeling you touch him with no fear, even though he knows the second he's done with you, he's taking those hands and dusting you.

☾ Y'all didn't think I was about to turn my greatest number one villain into a *gasp* nice person, did you? /lh

☾ Sorry, not here. Shigaraki does not do love. Only with me, dw guys I'll treat him right :). He's a man with needs that get in the way of his bigger plans. Sorry, not sorry.

☾ Anyway, trail your hands up his ribs and play with his nipples. Pinch them and roll them between your thumb and forefinger. It buys you another day. Additionally, you get to play with his fat tits.

☾ He has one shirt that he outgrew after his transformation that absolutely hugs his double dee, mommy milking, calcium cannon, honga-bazongas, dippin dots, whatyoudoingouthere withallthattiddies, boinga boinga, bouncing bangers.

☾ This one magically turned into a crop top. It was crazy. Shoutout to whoever put it in the wash to shrink it. They a real one.

☾ It was me.

☾ And it's like that one meme of the guy looking at something with his pecs right there and the lady is just O-O at them. Which...Yeah me too.

☾ Anyway, he wears it all the time because he's convinced it still fits.

☾ Play with his...pecs... through the shirt. He has the most sensitive nipples and it just brushes against them just right and...He likes it is all I'm gonna say.

☾ Now, I know what we're all thinking, 'Darling, what about the pants?' And Darling's got you, baby cakes.

☾ I only tease in the bedroom :)

☾ Grey sweatpants season is EVERY season for this man. He's got like three pairs he cycles through. Kurogiri HATES them. He tries to throw them out and replace them with sensible jeans or slacks.

☾ Never works. He's like a raccoon with stocks of them EVERYWHERE.

☾ Anyway, so he's got his gray sweats and his slutty little crop tops. Let me paint this picture for Y'all.

☾ Shigaraki Tomura wearing a tight white t-shirt that's shrunk into a crop top, clinging to his chest as he stretches his arms above his head, biceps straining against the fabric. His toned abdomen is constricting with his every breath of his, on full display along with the angles of his slutty lil' waist. Your eyes follow down to his belly button and following the trail of white hairs that lead to his v-line, the waistband of his pants just barely clinging to his hips but hugging the delicious outline of his cock, which, while even flaccid, is enough to make anyone drool.

☾ Y'all seeing the vision now? Because I do.

☾ I'm seeing the vision. I'm salivating over the vision. I'm ready to turn into a Gojo fan girl at this point. Like I'm drooling. No lube. No protection. No-

☾ And if you start playing with his tits like this? In this outfit?

☾ He's trying to swat you away, you're getting in the way of his game, but your hands are feeling too good. He's only half paying attention to the pixels anyway, but it's about the principle of letting you get your way.

☾ But you can see you're winning with the way his cock twitches in his pants, throbbing in plain sight.

☾ Your lips trace along his neck and suddenly the pause screen pops up. There's a dark patch already soaking through his pants and they're lose enough your fingers can dip right past the band and trace along his shaft.

☾ He's already groaning, debating if this is worth his time. Worth the distraction.

☾ When your pretty little fingers wrap around his cock and give it a firm tug, he decides it is.

☾ Do not think he rolls over and let's you do as you please however.

☾ No, no, no. He's pulling you over the couch and pinning you as he gets rid of the bigger distractions stopping from doing exactly what he wants.

☾ If he leaves you a dripping, drooling mess on the couch, that's your own fault really.

☾ But who really cares at that point, because in the end, you won anyway <3

☾ But FUCK does Shiggy have a slutty lil' waist.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero acedamia #boku no hero academia x reader #darling writes #mha #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader smut #tomura x reader smut #tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader smut

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authorhjk1 · 6 months

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December Special!

Round Two!!

Hi everyone! This will be our last and final round throughout the coming week. The links in this post will direct you to the four polls for the four chapters. Keep in mind that I will decide on the order randomly as I write along.

I put all the options into this post, beacuse I do not have the nerve to type all of this four times. Tumblr doesn't let me copy text and paste it into a post.

Have fun!

Chapter

You knew this might happen. You read the script of your knew role in the upcoming kdrama. And yet, you are surprised when your co-star pulls you aside after filming that day. Seo Yeaji's face can switch in a heartbeat. From a cold and emotionless mask, to an adorable , cute smile. While she asks you, if the two of you could practice the next scene, her face shows a new expression. Lust. It's quite a spicy scene after all.

Idols are always stressed, overworked and tired. On top of that, they can't even relax properly. They have to be careful about their food, words and actions. And one thing, that some people might neglect, is sexual satisfaction. That becomes a problem for Karina, Jihyo and Eunbi. Having bigger breasts only adds to their problems. Due to stress, their milk production starts to rise. When the three of them invite you to join their pre-Christmas party, they obviously have ulterior motives.

IU's and Kang Seulgi's competition started, when they caught each other, having sex backstage during an award show, a couple of months ago. At first, it picked up slowly. Random challenges, send via text on kakaoTalk app, answered by pictures as proof of the accomplished mission. Now, the two of them are tied, desperate to come up with something new. Luckily, IU and Seulgi have a lot of fans, who are more than happy to help them out.

You and Irene are coworkers with a special history. The two of you tried out more kinks and positions and places than even married couples. But some things are still missing. Luckily, Irene has a friend who got hired a couple of weeks ago. You were planning on welcoming her properly anyways.

After just being hired by Dreamcatcher Company, you are already tasked with shooting Jiu's and SuA's special clip. Jiu knows that you are an Insomnia and that SuA is your bias. Maybe you will get to shoot another type of special clip with the two of them, thanks to Jiu.

You meet your exgirlfriend IU at a high school friend's wedding. After the memories of your school times come back, the two of you sneak off.

You have worked with a couple of idols already. They are often models and embassadors for brands after all. Now you are tasked with filming a small video to promote Jimmy Choo's newly designed dress. The woman who appears in your studio is no other than Cho Miyeon.

Yuna has always been quite kinky. But her Christmas present for you this year is on another level. It's Ryujin. She is kneeling on her bed, wrapped in red lingerie and a bow like a gift. Her hands are tied behind her back, while her eyes are covered with a red blindfold.

You have already tried everything. Drinking warm milk with honey, listening to music, reading a book. Nothing. Working out, spending more time on your job. Nothing. Even after bringing that girl home last night, Yunjin, you vaguely remember her name, didn't help at all. You still can't fall asleep. It's late at night and you are lying in bed once more. Sleepless. Then, your doorbell rings. That must be your neighbor. Chaewon. After telling her about your insomnia, she said she might know aomething.

10.

Going to college is already hard enough, considering your background. Bad grades, devorced father, stepmother and stepsister and so on. The only reason you got in was because of your scholarship. You are not a good student. But a talented football player. And now everything becomes even more difficult. While trying to learn for your upcoming test, someone knocks on your door. Tzuyu, your stepsister. Her and her mom, Jihyo, seemed to have gotten into a huge fight once again. Can you cheer her up?

11.

The one thing you love most about your job is the fact that you see beautiful women pretty much every day. Being a photographer enables you to make them take any kind of pose in any kind of outfit. Of course, when you started your career, you never thought about it like this. Until you meet Im Yoona.

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #lee jieun #gidle #le sserafim #twice #aespa #red velvet #dreamcatcher

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mcflymemes · 10 months

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PROMPTS FROM SCOTT PILGRIM vs. THE WORLD * assorted dialogue from the 2010 film, adjust as necessary

when i'm around you, i kind of feel like i'm on drugs. not that i do drugs. unless you do drugs, in which case i do them all the time. all of them.

does that mean we can make out?

i skimmed it.

is there anywhere you don't work?

we are here to sell out and make money and stuff.

hey, so can this not be a one night stand?

there's more than one kind?

you've got mail.

i know i can be hard to be around sometimes. i totally understand if you don't want to hang anymore.

you will pay for your insolence.

break out the l-word.

that was a joke.

what the hell...

it's amazing what we can do with computers these days.

we have an unfinished business.

what did you have in mind?

i think garlic bread would have to be my favorite all-time food.

what do you play?

it's not a race, guys!

go ahead. i'm too cool for you anyway.

i'm so happy for you.

that's kind of a big question.

this is good garlic bread.

guess who's drunk!

you'll pay for your crimes against humanity!

you have a band?

i love this song!

what's the website for that?

we're terrible. please come.

don't you talk to me about grammar!

i know you have reasons for not wanting to talk about your past.

did you make some of those up?

i could eat it for every meal.

this is impossible! how can this be?

this is only my first offense. don't i get three strikes?

did you really see a future with this girl?

step up your game.

how are you doing that with your mouth?

it's milk and eggs, bitch.

bread makes you fat?

wait, can i get your number?

they have not started playing yet.

i want you to know that i don't care about any of that stuff.

we are here to make you think about death and get sad and stuff.

what kind of tea do you want?

you are incorrigible.

you used to be so nice.

what's that? you're outside?

oh, well, that's not that bad.

you know what really sucks? everything.

didn't you get my email explaning the situation?

i know you play mysterious and aloof just to avoid getting hurt.

i have to go pee due to boredom.

call us when you're done.

i've never even kissed a guy before.

he just left.

that was a test, and you passed.

i don't know the meaning of the word.

if you want something bad, you have to fight for it.

if i peed my pants, would you pretend that i just got wet from the rain?

do you have any embarrassing stories?

you made me swallow my gum! that's going to be in my digestive tract for seven years!

everything does suck.

why can't we have our own secret shows?

sounds like someone wants to get funky.

so what you're saying is we're dating?

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lovehotelreservation · 1 month

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Self Love

Summary: Bound by bestowed duty, burdened by the fate of countless, it only made sense that you, Meteor, and Clive would share not just many things in common, but a bed together.

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Clive/F!Reader/Meteor

tfw i've been cooking up this double penetration since the fanfest london announcement 🧍‍♀️

sorry to wols who don't main smn i hope you and everyone else still enjoy milking clive and meteor 🙇‍♀️

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

As a Warrior of Light, it was a wonder how you were able to constantly find yourself trapped between a rock and a hard place.

To which your roguishly rugged handsome companion would grin and cheekily comment something along the lines of “Well, my name is Meteor after all.”

And it was by this you would test his mettle and knowledge of Paladin as you called forth the fierce might of Phoenix in response.

Though, then again, you did have to be very mindful of mentioning the likes of “Phoenix” and “eikon”, lest you cast your other rugged yet sullenly handsome companion into yet another frenzied existential fit.

Clive Rosfield.

Poor man had just barely dragged himself out of the storm of having to comprehend how he managed to find himself plucked from his motherland of Valisthea only to be unceremoniously flung to the world of Eorzea, where he would cross paths with you and Meteor.

Thankfully, he was in the company of those who were well familiar with the concept of traveling dimensions. Meteor was the one to give Clive a reassuring pat on the back as he affirmed that it would just be a matter of when until some means to return him to his universe was found.

For now, as he cheerfully suggested, Clive could tag along with the both of you, joining your trek to venture to lands yet to be visited by either of you. The world had just been saved and the realm beckoned to be explored.

While understandably conflicted at first–what with thoughts of home, his brother, his friends at the Hideaway and across the Twins, and more weighing on his mind–Clive eventually relented and agreed to join. In such a foreign yet strangely familiar world, any lessons, techniques, and even powers he could acquire here to bring back to his world to bring forth needed revolution and change, then so be it.

He just had to quickly get used to you calling forth vastly different versions of Ifrit, Titan, Garuda, Bahamut and Phoenix with a mere book and a glowing foxdograbbit.

Similarly, while you and Meteor had seen your fair share of madness across your journeys together, you both couldn’t help but be in awe whenever Clive drew forth power from the eikons of his world that mirrored so perfectly with the primals of Eorzea, to even witnessing him prime into the infernal behemoth that was his Ifrit while squaring off with foes and hunts alike alongside you both.

Sharing tales of triumphs and losses over a campfire within the Black Shroud, offering knowledge that could only be learned in the heat of battle while sailing through the azure skies on an airship to Radz-at-Han, keeping watch of one another while treading treacherous ground through Coerthas, unwinding in the comforts of a local izakaya in Kugane after a hard day’s effort–this in turn had the three of you to bonding ever so closer together. After all, each of you had borne the burden of being savior in your respective worlds, carried forth the hopes and dreams of friends and allies present and past, maintained the balance of using your bestowed powers responsibly and striving to not allow self-doubt and greed corrupt your hearts so, and much more.

Beneath the warmth of the afternoon sun, your days together would be spent in glorious adventure.

Whereas underneath the dreamy glow of the evening moon, your nights were bathed and adorned in absolute euphoria.

All because Meteor couldn’t help but grin the very instant he noticed the way how Clive’s eyes would linger on you whenever the moment allowed for it, the shift from morose uncertainty to shy yearning reflected in those deep cerulean irises of his.

And with how long he had been adventuring with you all this time, he would be much too ashamed if he failed to notice that dreamy, awestricken stare of yours every time you marveled at Clive whenever he demonstrated his beastly prowess in battle.

The visitor and the host.

Experienced in combat yet naive with romance was the former.

Always thinking about the bigger picture and much too used to putting the needs of the world before one’s own desires was the latter.

Meteor, however, stood right in the middle and was ever eager to bridge gaps.

In this particular case, he did just that by keeping you sandwiched right between him and Clive as the three of you were tangled together in bed. Clothes and armor were long discarded and strewn across the floor of your inn’s suite, ensuring that nothing would get in the way of your two rugged companions and their wandering hands along your body.

As to be expected, Clive was curious with every touch as he lied beneath you, his fingers basking in the warmth of your bare skin as they sought to find which spots pleasured you most. Every moan you let you had his breath caught in his throat–a precious action soon followed by a burning need to elicit as many mewls of his name from your lips as much as possible.

By contrast, Meteor was ever proud as he quipped that he knew your body best–even better than you when he felt more daring. Maintaining his position above and behind you, he boldly grabbed at your breasts and gave your ass a few good slaps, with each gasp he earned in response being demonstrated as a reward that Clive could also earn were he to handle you in a similar way. And while stepping in as teacher had its own unique fun, he relished in being able to make you melt and crumble underneath him with every knowing stroke and plunge of his fingers.

Despite their different approaches towards you however, both were in absolute agreement in ravishing you thoroughly. With you caged between two broad and sturdy physiques of divine, chiseled muscle, you were kept perfectly in prime position to have Clive and Meteor plunge their thick, long cocks inside of you in tandem, leaving you crying out in sheer bliss as your core and your ass were subject to their relentless pounding.

“You’ve gotta find it rather humorous, mate–” Letting out a breathy laugh, Meteor pushed back his sweaty bangs away from his eyes as he peeked over your shoulder to glance at Clive, a grin plastered on his lips. “–you used to keep your distance from our lovely summoner every time that book was out, but now you can’t even stand to be a step away!”

At once, Clive had his eyes shut firmly tight, far too overwhelmed by the sinfully sweet sensation of the dripping wet velvet heat of your core continuing to squeeze around his cock. Yet at Meteor’s words, his eyelids fluttered open as he hoarsely responded with, “Could you blame me?” all while his hands reaffirmed their hold on your hips.

His cheeky grin now more of a wicked smirk, Meteor remarked, “Not in the slightest! After all, I speak from experience…!”

Upon the last word he uttered, his posture hunched forward as he proceeded to ramp up the pace and intensity of his thrusts, barreling his dick into your ass with feverish frenzy.

“And what’s that supposed to mean, Mete–!”

Though you were made to squeal all the more, you were ready to turn back towards Meteor with a stern questioning look, were it not for him already prepared for your reaction. Before you could complete your sentence, you suddenly found yourself pressed further down against Clive, the gentle yet heavy weight of a hand on the back of your head urging you to lock lips with him instead.

“Now, now, love–while I’ll never get enough of having your eyes on me, you’ve got a primal to master! Focus!”

Meteor’s laughter filled your ears while Clive’s tongue clumsily found its way into your mouth.

While you were eager to get back at the former, it was as your eyes found its way to the latter’s that you truly found yourself speechless.

The pure adoration held for you that was reflected in Clive’s eyes had your heart flutter and your hands quickly cupping his grizzled jaw as you hungrily reciprocated his affection.

And as the two of you kissed, you felt the stubble of Meteor’s chin scratch against the nape of your neck as he kissed your skin, making sure to press further down against the points that made you shiver most.

Stuck in the middle between the two men who cherished you most, you knew you weren’t going to be leaving the bed anytime soon tonight—especially when they had so much love they wished to pour inside of you over and over.

Even so, you were more than delighted to be in your current position. From this day onward, regardless of where your paths may lead as they split and twist, you would find your way to back to them, even worlds apart.

#clive rosfield x reader #final fantasy xvi reader insert #ff16 reader insert #meteor x wol #meteor x reader #final fantasy xiv reader insert #ffxiv reader insert #clive rosfield x wol #reader insert #Fic #super freaknasty writing

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blvckdress · 1 year

Text

𝘾𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 ?

Fiona Gallagher x Sister! Gallagher Reader

Fiona hits rock bottom. Everyone seems to be dealing with their own shit until you come along and remind her that you'll always have her back.

You were happy with how your life was at the moment. I mean sure, with community college, your part time receptionist job at some firm where you still have no idea what it is they do - amongst other side hustles - and dealing with countless family bullshit, your life was more than chaotic. But you were making something of yourself, something that you really loved doing and if it meant dealing with all that then so be it.

Debbie has been a huge pain in the ass so far with her raging meticulousness towards finances and overall bossiness. You loved Debbie, you really did, but for the past few weeks you crashed at the place of a 60-year old woman named Barbara in your Spanish class who you became friends with after bonding over the professor's receding hairline. However tonight she had "company" over and you decided you would literally rather be anywhere else.

It was cold and dark out and you just got back from taking an hour test so tonight you were planning to go home, drink a little bit of brandy and maybe have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

As you walked down the familiar street where you witnessed at least three fights and an arrest daily, you noticed Fiona leaning back against the bench looking up at the sky.

"Fiona?"

She looked at you and for a second her eyes lit up.

"Hey (Name)."

You plopped down next to Fiona.

"What're you doing out here?" You ask, leaning your head against her shoulder. She rests her head on yours.

"Debbie changed the locks."

You groan.

"Ugh Debbie! What the hell is up with her?"

"She's got a massive stick up her ass that's what," You both look at each other then laugh.

Looking at her up close you take in her appearance. Her eyes are bloodshot and she looks like she hasn't slept in days.

"Hey Fi...are you doing okay?"

She sighed, closing her eyes as she exhaled a large breath.

"Right now...no."

You shared her sentiment. Ugh damn it, Debbie! You were sure that changing the locks cost more money than what they were all spending on turning on the lamp for five seconds after six o'clock.

"Coffee?"

"Coffee."

Ever since you were in middle school and got the taste of an espresso with a shit ton of milk you liked having mini coffee dates with Fiona. No matter what time or place whenever one of you made coffee it was a sign to just fuck everything.

Fiona lit her cigarette and blew out the smoke. The two of you were leaning against the brick of some random convenience store, cups of coffee in your hands.

"Everything's just so fucked up. No matter what I do it's just -" Fiona caught herself as her voice wavered. You took a sip of your coffee. "It's just so hard. I really thought I had it and then...everything blows over."

You reached over to hold her hand.

"I'm really proud of you kid, y'know that?"

You mouth forms a small smile. "Fiona." She turns towards you.

"The only reason I'm able to do all this is because of you. You took care of all of us your entire life. Don't be so hard on yourself."

You and the rest of your siblings were struggling enough as it is, so you can't imagine what she has had to deal with all these years.

You continued, "I'm sorry that we haven't talked that much. I missed you."

Fiona smiles. "I've missed you too (Name)."

"You should leave this place."

Fiona looks at you and laughs. "What? What do you mean?"

"I'm serious! Once you're back on your feet - which I know you will be - just leave. Do what you wanna do without having to worry about us."

And you mean it. Honestly, you pray to god she listens.

Fiona looks thoughtful, taking a drag of her cigarette before sipping her coffee.

Thirty minutes later you were ready to go to sleep. Shitty coffee, I guess. You supposed Barbie must have had her fun and is already asleep now.

"Alright I'm done, wanna come with?" You ask.

"And go where?" Fiona asked, tossing her cig and coffee in the trash.

"Classmate's crib, she has a pull out." Fiona swung her arm around you and pulled you close.

"Thanks (Name)."

"Anytime Fi."

#shameless us #shameless one shot #fiona gallagher #fiona gallagher apologist #this woman deserves the WORLD and more #fiona gallagher x reader

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chirp-a-chirp · 5 months

Text

Court of Darkness 12 Days of Christmas

Here’s a 12 Days of Christmas song rendition for no_one_8473 as a part of the 2023 CoD Discord Secret Santa gift exchange!

…

🎶 On the 12th day of Christmas, my consort gave to me…🎶

12 Cookies Burning!

*Smoke wafts through a crack in the kitchen*

Sherry: Oh, I meant for these cookies to be red. I suppose black will have to do.

Roy: You have time to bake another batch before the party. Perhaps dear Rio will assist.

Sherry: OK! Will you partake in these cookies then brother? *Offers plate of charred discs*

Roy: …of course.

11 Garlands Hanging!

Fenn: *Hangs garland and mistletoe over windows and doors of the S:Ranks lounge* Toa! Come here and test this mistletoe with me.

Toa: *Ignores Fenn, walks past him with stack of papers in hand. Knight scurries behind with another equally large stack*

Fenn: Oh Kniiiiiiiight…*pinches his butt*

Knight: OI!

10 Cups Aligning!

Tino: *Brings out a tray of teacups and plates* Masters Luxure and Invidia, the Christmas tree is beautifully trimmed. Wait, where is Master Lynt?

Nine Letters Signing!

Toa: We cannot delay in sending these missives Knight.

Knight: I can’t believe Idina and your father expect you to work on Christmas! They’d better get coal in their stockings.

Eight Whisks A-Turning!

Sherry: Let’s see, three cups of sugar…

Rio: *Whisks batter in a bowl* Sherry, that’s salt, not sugar. Easy to mistake though!

Sherry: Oh. *Gestures to jar of salt* But I used this jar for my last batch of cookies. I guess Roy likes salty cookies?

Grayson: *Face remains stoic* …yes.

Seven Frantic Searches!

Tino: *Wanders down the hallways AGAIN* Master Lynt where ARE YOUUUU?

Lance: Oi cease your yelling! Try searching the courtyard.

Six Pies A-Baking!

Rio: These pies turned out brilliant! But I haven’t a knack for decorating.

Sherry: Leave that to me! *Performs luminary magic so the pies glow with an ethereal yet somehow tasty light*

FIIIIIVE…SAUCY LOOKS!

Fenn: *Pats his lap invitingly* Will no one sit with me?

Sherry: Maybe you’ll have more luck if you wear this. *Sherry laughs and places a red hat and white beard on Fenn*

Rio: *Promptly sits on Fenn’s lap* Santa!

Four Mugs of Cocoa!

Tino: *Furiously destroys a snowman on a courtyard bench. Under the snow is Lynt, snoozing upright in a sleeping bag*

Lynt: *Wakes up* Hi Chino. *Blinks drowsily and drifts back to sleep*

Tino: Aaaaah! *Shoves a mug of cocoa in front of his young charge.* You need to keep warm! And get ready for the party!

Three Spell Books!

Rio: Toa, stop grading papers and join our Christmas party!

Toa: *Is about to shake his head until Tino arrives with a cup of cocoa*

Tino: This cup is made with Qelsan chocolate. I can procure more if you celebrate with us.

Toa: *Drinks cup of cocoa and smiles*

Two Scratchy Throats!

Fenn: Aren’t you two going to eat any other food?

Roy: *Continues eating Sherry’s cookies, washing them down with copious amounts of milk. Grayson joins his Master*

Roy: N-no. I prefer to eat something made with love.

Grayson: *Grimaces throughout his gaging* I agree.

And a Happy Holy Night Paaaaaarty!

Every Consort: Merry Christmas!

Sherry: Brother, you ate all my cookies! I’ll make sure to add extra salt to my next batch just like you like them!

Roy: *Chokes on his milk*

#court of darkness #voltage games #sherry invidia #roy invidia #fenn luxure #toa qelsum #rio voleri #fanfic fluff #otome #12 days of christmas

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cherievol6 · 2 years

Text

newborn dadrry

harry with a newborn would just be..ugh. this is a little one (unedited), hope you enjoy, and i hope this makes up for the angst in not waiting around (which has NOW has a part 2) happy reading! - M x

harry takes over feeding time

word count: 631

warnings: none! just cuteness

“Harry…Harry!”

He looks at you with an alarmed expression, fumbling with the baby bottle and blinking away the sleep from his bleary eyes. The small baby lies fussily in her dad’s arms, small whimpering leaving her mouth as she searches for the teat of the bottle that had barely touched her lips.

“What?” He whispers in a panicked voice, and you’d find him endearing if you weren’t panicking about your newborn child lying in his hold.

“Have you checked the temperature of the milk?!” You whisper-shouted again, wary of the other new mothers sleeping behind the curtains surrounding you. It must have been three, four in the morning when your precious daughter stirred in her sleep. Usually, you breast fed the baby, but you’d pumped an hour or two before and left it in a container on the side, ready to be dipped in warm water and fed to your baby by Harry (he was on night duty, given you’d had a total of 4 hours sleep in the past two days). However, the paranoia that came with being a new mother kept you wide awake, monitoring Harry’s every move to make sure he was learning in case you weren’t awake to do it in the future.

“Of course I have, you pillock.” He sighs, “bloody hell, scared the life out of me, you did.” You squint as he tilts his head back on his neck and he blows out a breath of relief.

“I wouldn’t call a sleep-deprived-post-partum mother a pillock…if you plan on keeping your pretty teeth.” You warn, raising an eyebrow at him. The side of his mouth raised in a cheeky grin before he tries his best to pour a bit of the milk on to his wrist that was tucked under the baby to test the temperature (purely for your peace of mind despite him already checking it five minutes prior) before finally connecting it to her mouth. She hums lightly, making Harry smile adoringly down at her. Despite your anxiety, you stare at the pair and sigh in contentment at the scene. Your little family.

The dad role had come quickly and smoothly to Harry, as you’d expected, given he was just so naturally good with kids - something you’d observed that made you unbelievably broody, winding up with this little one as the result. He just knew what to do, when to do it and was always on hand if you were struggling or having an off day, needing someone to take over. He was all you could have asked for.

“Take a picture, will last longer baby.” He chuckles, adjusting the crook of his arm easily and leaning completely back against the hospital chair.

“Oh! Thanks for the reminder!” You grin, grabbing your phone from the side table and snapping a picture of Harry gazing down at a little piece of both you and him.

“She loves her dad.” You sigh, rubbing his shoulder lovingly and setting the picture as your lock screen.

“She loves her mum more.” He looks at you pointedly. You shake your head with a frown.

“Let’s call it equal, hm?” Your nails scratch at his scalp and he hums in delight.

You stare at him for a few moments before leaning across the gap between the bed and the chair to kiss him on the cheek, prompting him to turn his and and kiss you sweetly on the lips.

“Hmm. Love you s’much.” He breathes, green eyes gazing into you.

“I love you so much more, my Harry.” You smile, kissing his once again before stroking his cheek, repeating the action on your newborn’s cheek also. You couldn’t believe how much she resembled her dad at such a young age.

“You made this little thing.” He mumbles and very gently rocks the baby in his arm.

“We made her. Together. She’s ours, baby.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles boyfriend #Harry styles husband #dad harry styles #dad!harry #harry styles fluff #Harry styles daughter #harry styles oneshot #harry styles husband #husband!harry #husbandrry #boyfriend harry #reader insert #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader

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riostwsty · 1 year

Text

" I'll make up to you... "

Summary: Jamil does nothing but work all day, everyday. Luckily he can always rely on his partner at times when he feels beyond exausted. word count 1.6k + Keywords: fluff, scenario, romance, third person narrator, g/n reader (you/yours), established relationship, reader not implied Yuu/MC Characters: Jamil x reader CWs: none, just comfort I think

Your footsteps echoes in the halls of Scarabia, moonlight and the shimmer of a thousand stars illuminated your path by the windows beside. Kalim had asked for help with a big project for Astrology class, and there you were, only managing to finish a little before 1 am struck, and as you were heading back to your room, decided to pay a visit to the dorm's kitchen for a cup of water and a (post) midnight snack.

There was a strange sight however, upon arriving there, of a Jamil Viper standing unmoving behind the counter, staring expressionless at his feet.

—"Jamil! I haven't seen you all day, where have you been?"— you asked. He didn't even flinch at the sound of your voice, but you continued regardless —"You didn't read any of my messages, I was actually starting to get worried, haha... Jamil?"—

The lack of response made you reluctantly approach, getting nearer, you made sense of the situation at hand... more or less.

He stared at four pieces of bread fallen face down on the floor. Stared as if they had insulted him in seven different languages. Glancing back and forth to the floor and his face, all you could muster was a "Wha..."

—"I wanted toast"— he muttered to himself —"why."—

You picked up the bread, hopefully to break the weird trance your boyfriend was in, and looked for a garbage bin to discard them. He furrowed his brows, at last truly acknowledging your presence. You imitaded his expression back —"It's way past the five second rule, come on."—

He sighed, leaning on the counter with arms crossed and resting his head on them like a makeshift pillow, face down. It was fairly obvious what it meant, and a bit unease, you already knew what to do in situations like it.

—"wanna talk about your day?"—

—"hm."— Jamil grunted quietly, taking in a deep breath as he counted on his fingers —"Final history test. Didn't submit Crewel's project in time. Laundry. Dishes. Cancelled Basketball practice."—

—"That's quite the list..."—

—" 's only half of it"—

You leaned on the counter next to him, with a half embrace, rubbing circles on his back with one hand. —"I came here for a midnight snack before going to bed, but I can also make you some hot chocolate while I'm at it. How's that sound?"—

His posture changed to the offering, looking up at the ceiling as if carefully calculating his response, but then slowly shaking his head in hesitant disapproval —"...Must consume milk under three days... once opened.... Such a waste."— His speech was slurred from the sheer exaustion, stumbling over his words while you tried to make sense of the conversation —"... don' worry... I eat the floor toast. thanks."— he then let all the weight of his head fall at once on the counter with a comically loud thud to end the discussion right then and there.

Needless to say, this has happened a fair amount of times before. The vice housewarden often gets too caught up in his responsabilities to even remember taking breaks, and when his partner is not around to give reminders, well... the situation only escalates to the worst. In comparison to his usual serious, responsible and ever flawless image, he'd become completely out of touch due to the fatigue accumulated througout the day, walking and speaking as if his conciousness hang by a thread, threatening to give in at every second passed.

Jamil constantly fought to keep the solemn demeanor, but one can only go so far, after all, he's human too. He'd rather dissappear than ever be caught acting as anything but the picture perfect mask he held in front of others, and that drained ridiculous amounts of energy the longer he kept up the performance.

You took his face on your hands and brought him closer to inspect his drowsy state. He struggled to keep his vision focused, and it gave the impression of the bags under his eyes to be darker than usual. He noticed you press your lips in a thin line and squint your eyes as you observed with worry. Jamil hadn't even begun to lose himself in the tender moment, of your warm hands caressing his skin so affectionately, when you rapidly turned your attention to the kitchen cabinets to take all the ingredients for that previously mentioned hot chocolate offer, making him click his tongue in annoyance.

—"[name], I told you I-"—

—"Jamil, stop worrying about wasting ingredients from the pantry, and allow yourself to enjoy a well deserved treat for once"— you interrupted —"you're tense. you should relax before heading to bed, or else you won't get a good night's rest"—

He scoffed, approaching from behind and shutting with both hands another cabinet you were about to open, like that consequently closing the space between you two, as he glared as best as he could at your surprised expression now centimeters away from his face.

It was an embarrassing position to be in, between the cabinet and Jamil you couldn't move, caged between his arms so he was sure you'd look at him the eye. Yes, it would be almost intimidating, that is, if his mind hadn't gone blank from his sleep deprived state, only managing to muster a single "ssstop." accompanied by a tired pout.

—"Nop"— you pushed him back gently —"You go sit down somewhere. I'll take care of things now"—

Both of your hands were occupied as you made your way around the dorm. One holding Jamil's mug and the other holding his hand, guiding him like a lost puppy. By the time you reached the boy's room, he seemed to have finally given up complaining, and was resting his head on your shoulder, barely keeping himself up. You instructed him to sit at the edge of the bed, handing him the hot beverage, while you took a seat behind, and began to undo his messy braids and ponytail with care.

The quietness between interactions was by no means uncomfortable anymore, at this stage of the relationship, they were reassuruing moments that told words weren't needed when you two understood each other so well. It was true, reading a person like Jamil was no easy task, yet you did it so effortlessly. Still, that didn't mean he was a completely open book in any way.

After undoing the braids, you took a brush to untangle any knots left in his hair. Once you noticed the tension on his shoulders was beggining to dissipate, you decided to gather a bit of courage to ask something that had been bothering you for quite some time.

—"Why are you always so eager to refuse any help from me?"— you broke the silence —"You're barely managing to keep yourself up by the end of the week, yet you still..."—

You sighed, not feeling the need to complete the sentence. Jamil didn't respond right away, only tapping his fingers on the mug in hand as if counting the seconds passed from the unanswered question.

—"I'm used to... doing that"— he took a sip from the hot chocolate —"you feel bothered by it?"—

—"It's just that you do so much for everyone. You do so much for me and-"— you interrupted youself, wondering what words to use to accurately describe your thoughts on the matter —"and it feels like the efforts are unbalanced, you know? It's unfair."—

His eyes darted across the room, seeking to be fixed anywhere but to your direction.

—"...can't say I feel the same way"— he mumbled.

You sighed softly, letting the quiet atmosphere to sink in once more.

Growing up as a servant for the Asim family, constantly having to look after others and never prioritizing himself, barely taking any breaks- for sure these responsabilities took deep roots on his subconscious, wether he noticed it or not, no matter how much he believed he deserved better, there was always a voice in the back of his mind, telling the exact contrary. Ordering him to hold the act for just a little while longer, to work a bit more, and above all, to do it all alone. It was HIS duty and no one else's.

But among crowds you only had eyes on him. And among layers of deception you knew what he really felt. Saw the burden he'd much prefer for you to ignore it.

—"well, you know I love you very much"— you added weakly, taking the now empty cup from his hands and placing it on the drawer beside the bed, along with the hairbrush you had just finished using —"maybe we can talk about this tomorrow, once you're well rested?"—

In no time Jamil turned around from his spot on the bed and tackled you down on the matresses with him, hugging your frame like a body pillow.

—"promise to remind me-"— he added drowsy as he finally allowed his heavy eyelids to shut —"I'll make up to you tomorrow"—

—"yeah, promise."— in no hesitation, you lied. As you had done times before, in this scenario you felt no guilt in doing so. For there was no need to have your favor ever be payed back by Jamil. Taking care of him was no task, much less one to be returned in feeling of obligation.

It was something he couldn't wrap his head around. The fact that someone would do such things, all purely out of love for him. There was still a long way to go until he could even begin to truly understand, your adoration for him was not a matter of exchange, but one of heart.

You ran your fingers through his hair until he was fast asleep, and prepared yourself to join in soon, waiting for morning to wake you to another busy day, that by the end of it, you'd be willing to repeat the same nightly routine over and over again, if so needed, and if he would allow it.

#[english works]#give this man a break #author Rio try not to give up when a wip passes 2+ days in the works challenge (impossible)#I say yes to writing creatively with no sense of obligation to put me on a rush.#and yes in the same breath I say ''my god I NEED to post this today for NO good reason''#twst x reader #twst writing #twst fanfic #twst #twisted wonderland #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #scarabia #finished writing this while baisically starving but I hope this didn't affect the quality of this fic overrall HAHA (sound of crying)#dw I'm fine dw dw

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criminalmindsgonewrong · 1 year

Text

nature vs nurture

a hotchner's future au fic. wordcount: 5.7k

emily is trying to be a good mother, but she never had a good example to learn from.

elizabeth comes to visit after ava is born

tw: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of trouble conceiving

Read on AO3, fanfiction.net or under the cut

JOIN MY TAGLIST

"There, there," Emily soothed, running her hand gently up and down her newborn daughter's back. Bouncing on the pregnancy ball, the only thing that had brought her any relief as she had neared fullterm, she had hoped that the familiar sensation would soothe Ava, as it used to when she was in-utero, but, so far, no dice. Emily persisted, though, switching up the position she held Ava in. She moved her daughter from her shoulder, unstrapping her maternity bra and holding Ava nestled against her chest, hoping the skin-to-skin contact, and the scent of her mother, might calm the crying child. Still, Ava went on screeching. Emily closed her eyes, breathing steadily out through her nose and tilting her face up towards the ceiling, determined not to cry. No, she had done enough of that in the past few days.

Getting pregnant had been a chore; she and Aaron, it felt like, were having sex at every opportunity and still, nothing happened for the longest time. Emily had been convinced she was infertile, and wouldn't even have been surprised, after all of the explosions, gun-shots, chairlegs and beatings she'd been through. After eleven long months of negative pregnancy tests, unwanted periods and disappointed tears, though, finally, those two little lines had shown up and a relief the likes of which she had never known flooded Emily's being.

She hadn't stopped crying since.

The littlest things could set her off, from Aaron accidentally ordering her the wrong takeout order to Jack winning one of his football matches. Towards the end of her pregnancy, he had actually banned her from attending games - by that point she was so big that she couldn't do much more than waddle, anyway, and standing for too long made her ache all over, so she didn't really mind all that much, but she still cried when Aaron told her.

That was a month ago, and, three weeks later, Ava made her squawking, mewling way into the world and it seemed that the phrase like mother, like daughter was all too true for them because she hadn't stopped crying since either, and everytime Ava cried, one of two things happened. Emily started leaking, either from her eyes or from her boobs.

As she bounced on the birthing ball and tried to breathe her way through the tears that threatened, she felt the hot trail of milk that slowly leaked out of her, and then she couldn't hold back tears anymore.

"Hey," Aaron said, rushing into the room armed with the diaper and wipes she'd sent him out for, "I was just checking on Jack, I'm sorry." He said, misinterpreting her tears, but Emily shook her head.

"Can you-you get me a t-towel?" She stutered her way through her sentence, the sympathy on her husband's face only making her cry harder, and, feeling useless, Aaron did the only thing he could, which was what she had asked for. He hurried into their en-suite, grabbing one of the microfibre towels, the good, soft ones, from the cupboard and came back to kneel in front of his wife and daughter. Lovingly, he mopped up the milk and then fastened her maternity bra back up for her, careful not to disturb Ava, who was still crying.

"Did you try her…?" Aaron asked, and then trailed off at the expression on Emily's face, the one that said she might rip his head off if he finished that sentence. "Of course you did. Sorry, sweetheart."

Emily, though, shook her head, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to take it out on you," She said, and supported Ava with one arm, making sure she was secure before reaching for Aaron. He understood and took her hand, helping her stand off of the ball and leading her to the bed, where Emily painfully lowered herself onto it, still tender from the birth, "Oh, please, close the door before she wakes Jack up."

Aaron had the same thought at the same moment, and was already turning as she made the request. "This won't last forever," he reassured her, making his way back to the bed and rubbing Emily's back in much the same way as Emily had done to Ava, trying to soothe her.

"Do you remember Jack crying this much?" Emily dug around in Ava's blankets, finding her pacifier and once again gently tapping it against her infant's lips, but Ava wiggled her head back and forth as best as she could, and only mewled louder, rejecting the pacifier, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm sorry." Emily said, feeling tears threaten once more, and swallowing down the lump that had risen in her throat. She felt, not for the first time, at a complete loss, unable to determine what her daughter needed at any given moment. This learning curve was the steepest she had ever encountered, and Emily felt like she was faltering with every step she took..

She looked at Aaron with eyes that sparkled like glass, "She hates me," she said, with a sadness so profound that it made him gape at her.

"No, sweetheart, no," He wrapped his arms around them both, pulling his wife and daughter into his chest, "Don't ever think that."

"What's wrong with me," Emily sobbed, her words muffled by Aaron's chest, "that I can't even comfort my own baby?"

Between them, Ava was still crying, and Emily pulled out of Aaron's arms, making to stand up, meaning to pace back and forth in the hopes that a different motion might soothe her, but Aaron stopped her.

"Let me?" He asked, searching his wife's eyes.

Emily had been reluctant to let go of Ava, even to him, since she was born and she appreciated that he asked, even if he was her father. Of course she trusted him, but Ava was the most precious thing she'd ever seen, ever held, and to let her go for even a moment, even to her father, was like physical torment. Right now, though, after Ava had been screaming for almost two hours, the relief of being slightly further away from her noise overcame that pain easily, and she let Aaron gently lift the baby from her arms.

She watched as he nestled Ava into the crook of his elbow, holding her tight to his chest. She was a tiny baby, but she looked even smaller in Aaron's muscular arms, truly like a little doll. It made something inside of Emily ache.

"That's nature's trick," she commented, narrowing her eyes as she wiped her nose on back of her hand, frowning at him.

Aaron looked at her, halted his attempts at soothing their daughter to raise his eyebrows at her, the ghost of a smile playing around his lips, "What?"

"How good men look with babies." Even though Emily couldn't even think about having sex with him without wincing right now, something inside of her tugged at the sight of him holding the tiny bundle, comforting their child with soft words and looking down at her with such adoration, "Tricks you into having more."

Aaron smiled at her, showing his perfect teeth, then turned that smile down onto their daughter. Emily marvelled, not for the first time, at his patience. She loved Ava with everything she had, but she was ready to jam a screwdriver into her eardrum right about now, just for the bliss of the silence.

"She's brand new," Aaron was saying, "Being born is traumatic. Everything is new and big and scary," he rocked, side to side, creating a rhythm, "I know you don't like it right now," he wasn't talking to her anymore, but to Ava, "but you will. I promise you will."

Ava paused for a moment to look at her father, blinking bleary eyes at him, still unable, Emily knew, to see clearly. That, she thought, must be scary enough in itself.

"You know what used to work for Jack?" Hotch said, looking up at her. Tiredly, Emily raised her eyebrows at him. "A bath."

"See? Works everytime."

His fingertips stroked over their daughter's tiny, dark head, her hair wet from the water and plastered flat. She rested on Emily's chest, her tiny fist furling and unfurling against her mother's skin. The water was just the right temperature, a little cold for Emily, perhaps, but perfect for the baby, and her mother's heart beat steadily and surely beneath her ear, as comforting as it had been when she lived inside Emily's body.

"You're a genius," Emily whispered, smiling at her husband, the silence making her ears buzz. Ava's eyes had fluttered closed, along with her fist, and she didn't open them or unfurl them, but instead began a slow and steady breathing that told her parents she had, finally, fallen asleep.

There was a long beat of silence. Then Emily looked at him and said, "What now?"

Kneeling beside the bath, Aaron's shoulders started to shake as he tried to laugh silently, and Emily held Ava's head gently as she did the same, trying to keep as still as she could while giggling, so as not to disturb her daughter.

The next morning, Ava woke them with a cry, as had become the custom, as was normal for a baby her age. It was 5:30am. All in all, her parents had four hours of sleep between them. They tried to nap alternately, but realistically when one was awake, so was the other, and the morning was the same story, so when Ava's cries woke Emily, Aaron was up a few seconds later.

By lunch time, they were both yawning.

"Kids are hard," Emily whined, resting her chin on Aaron's shoulder as she curled her fingers around the mug of coffee she had been reheating and trying to drink since 7am. Ava, blissfully, was taking a nap in her swing, a song that Emily already knew would be haunting her dreams playing for the seventh time in a row. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the only one that Ava found appealing and so, like all new parents, they were putting up with it until further notice. Or until the batteries ran out.

"Yeah," Aaron agreed, just as sleepily, as Jack came bounding into the room with an energy his parents couldn't possibly hope to match.

"Grandma's here," he announced, and they both stared at him in confusion. Impatient, he repeated, "Grandma's here! In the car!"

"My mom?" Emily said, frowning in confusion.

"Has to be. Highly doubt it's mine, or he'd be screaming in terror since she's been dead for twenty years." Aaron replied, standing up from the barstool. There were milkstains on his t-shirt, Emily noticed, and, looking down at her own, she saw that she, too, was covered in them. She also noticed a stain that looked suspiciously like milk-sick, but didn't inspect it too much. Instead, she grabbed a hoodie from the pile of laundry she had been meaning to get to for four days, and tugged it over her head, trying to make herself look at least half presentable.

"Can't we send her away?" Aaron suggested, half-heartedly, already aware of how much of a losing battle that would be.

"It's better if we just let her in, let her see the baby, and then, once she's had her fill, we won't have to see her for about five years. Hopefully." Emily asserted, attempting to fluff her hair in the microwave's reflection before giving up and tugging it up into a bumpy ponytail, fastening it with the hairtie that had been around her wrist.

The doorbell went and they both turned as though it were the cock of a gun.

"I'll get it," Aaron groaned, and Emily shot him a grateful smile, heading straight into the living room to where Ava was in her swing and Jack was sitting at the dining room table, drawing.

"Jack," she said, walking over to him and putting a gentle hand on his hair, stroking it, lovingly, "Don't take too much notice of anything Grandma says, okay?"

Jack looked up at her with curious blue eyes, but she just smiled at him, a smile that fell from her face as soon as she heard the tell tale click-clack on her hardwood floors, the soundtrack of her childhood, the noise that ominously announced the approach of her mother.

"Emily, my darling," Elizabeth swanned into the room, arms open wide, like the loving and affectionate mother she never had been, and enveloped Emily in a hug that felt all wrong and unfamiliar. Over her shoulder, she caught Aaron's eye, and he just shrugged as she furrowed her brows at him, "How are you?"

Shoving her away, Elizabeth held her at arms length, "You look tired."

"I just had a baby, mom," Emily said, deadpan, not at all shocked that the first words out of Elizabeth's mouth could be classified as an insult.

"Oh, yes, my first grandchild," Elizabeth clapped her hands together and Emily ground her teeth together.

"Second," she corrected, wrapping her arm securely around Jack's shoulders.

"Oh, of course, of course," Elizabeth waved a hand, as though to waft away her earlier words, "Jack, how are you?"

Her tone was as it had always been with children; formal and awkward. Jack looked from Elizabeth up to Emily, who gave him a small smile, a reassuring nod and a gentle squeeze into her side.

"I'm okay, grandma," he said, politely, "How are you?"

"Dying to meet my granddaughter," as tone deaf as ever, Elizabeth beamed at Emily, who felt something like possession curl in her chest as she saw the hungry look on Elizabeth's face, and she knew, she had known, the strange ownership Elizabeth already felt for Ava, a child she hadn't even met yet. She wanted, then, to send Eliazabeth away, to keep Ava for herself. She opened her mouth to speak, unsure of what was about to come out of it, but Aaron beat her to it.

"She's over here," he said, from behind her mother, and Elizabeth turned on her heels. Emily followed, right behind her.

The granddaughter in question was stirring, her lullaby having finished, and Emily, supporting herself on the arm of the sofa, knelt slowly down beside the swing and fiddled with the buttons until the song began again.

"Oh," Elizabeth looked down at the tiny bundle, as Emily put gentle fingers on Ava's tiny hand, lowering the arm that had been raised to cover her little face. "She's beautiful," Elizabeth whispered, "Emily, she looks just like you."

And Emily thought that might be the nicest thing her mother had ever said to her. She beamed with pride, staring at the tiny girl in the swing.

Before Ava, Emily was the type of person to say that all newborns looked the same. If somebody had shown her a photograph of Jack at one week old, and Henry at one week old, she was certain she wouldn't be able to tell them apart, regardless of how much she loved them both. Ava, however, was a different story entirely. Ava was the most beautiful newborn she had ever seen, with a shock of dark hair and eyes that were already the same deep brown as both of her parents and therefore, Emily assumed, likely to stay that way. Her pale little eyebrows arched angelically over her eyes, and, already, her eyelashes were shockingly long - the abundance of hair her daughter already had accounted for the heartburn Emily had suffered with throughout the second and third trimester.

She gently pulled back her finger and Ava once again lifted her arm to cover her face, fussing a little in the chair, unhappy about being disturbed.

"She won't stay settled for much longer," Aaron said, knowingly, "Elizabeth, can I get you a drink?"

"Yes, tea." There was no please, and Aaron raised an eyebrow at Emily, who just tilted her head, apologetically, and widened her eyes. He understood her even without words.

Let's just get through this.

"Mom, I wish you'd told us you were going to drop by," Emily said, as Aaron lef the room. The scolding was barely disguised, but Elizabeth either didn't hear it or chose to ignore it. She sat herself down on the sofa, but Emily stayed on the carpet beside Ava, wanting to be the closest one to her when she inevitably started crying, wanting, if she was honest with herself, to pick her up before Elizabeth tried to reach for her.

"I'm your mother, Emily, I don't need an announcement," Elizabeth waved away her words, and then added, "Or an invite." She pursed her lips with disapproval, clearly telling her daughter off in not as many words. Emily immediately felt the need to make excuses, a reminder that even as a grown woman, she hadn't escaped the effect her mother always seemed to have on her, of making her feel like a misbehaving child.

"We're just, we weren't having guests during these first two weeks," Emily said, tiredly, folding her own hands in her lap, "The house is a mess, we're all so exhausted. We've just been settling in with the baby-"

"Nonesense," Elizabeth let out a sharp laugh as Aaron entered the room with her tea, and Ava jumped, her grandmother's laugh effectively ending her nap. Startled, she began to cry as Elizabeth continued, seemingly oblivious, "I was on a plane to Munich two days after giving birth to you."

"Yes, mother, I know," Emily said, tersely, as she reached her hands into the swing, unbuckling the baby and fastening them securely around Ava. She lifted her out of the chair, immediately pulling Ava to her chest. Emily made soothing noises, picking up the pacifier Ava had spat out and putting it into her own mouth as she adjusted her daughter in her arms.

"You shouldn't do that, you know," And here it was, Emily thought, as she met Aaron's eyes over Elizabeth's head, the real reason they hadn't invited her; the unsolicited advice she was about to give that would make Emily's blood boil, because, really, who was Elizabeth to give anybody parenting advice, let alone the daughter she hadn't raised?

Neither Emily nor Aaron prompted her to continue, as he passed Elizabeth her tea and Emily stared, intently, at the babe in her arms, pretending she hadn't heard her mother at all, but Elizabeth went on, anyway.

"Pick her up as soon as she cries, I mean-thank you, Aaron, dear," She took the tea from him and immediately set it down onto the coffee table. Aaron frowned, picked it up again, set a coaster beneath it, and set the mug on top of the coaster. He wiped at the ringmark with his hand, aware of how crazy it would drive his wife, "You're teaching her bad habits."

"Bad habits?" Emily frowned, casting Elizabeth a glance, swaying her hips on the spot, a state that had become second nature to her already, "Mom, she's a week old."

"Nonetheless, if you let her manipulate you like that, you'll regret it," Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, with an air of superiority, as she brought her tea to her lips and Emily found herself wishing she would scald herself, but instead she just blew on her tea, "Give into her now and you'll be doing it for the rest of her life."

Emily bit her tongue, exhaling, hard, through her nose. She found Aaron's eyes, and, seeing the upset there, he turned to Jack.

"Hey, buddy, why don't you take your colours upstairs for a bit and let the grownups talk, huh?" Jack, who liked to spend most of his time in his room anyway, shrugged and gathered up his crayons and paper, obeying his father almost immediately. As soon as he was out of earshot, Emily raised her eyebrows at Elizabeth, feeling triumphant.

"See that?" She said, "Does it look like we let Jack walk all over us?"

Elizabeth, though, shrugged, "Perhaps his mother knew, as I do, the best way to raise a child. Sometimes you have to let them cry it out, Emily, look I'll show you. Here, here," Elizabeth advanced and before Emily could protest, she was lifting Ava's tiny body out of her arms. Something inside of Emily wanted to snap, as Ava wriggled in midair, and a maternal instinct so primal and violent rose to the surface with a velocity so shocking that it scared her. Emily only just managed to restrain herself, clenching her fists and her jaw, in time to hold herself back from physically attacking her mother, reminding herself over and over that Ava wasn't in any danger.

She caught Aaron's eyes over her mother's shoulder, and knew her own were panicked, even as she tried to maintain her calm.

"Let's just put you down here. Your mother is going to spoil you, isn't she?" Elizabeth spoke to her granddaughter in the same tone she used with Jack; a matter-of-fact, business-like tone that one might use with employees or colleagues, but certainly not grandchildren. As always, it grated on Emily. It was the tone of her childhood, and she didn't like it any better now than she had back then. "I mean, really, Emily, who knows more about raising children, you or I?"

"Emily has been raising Jack since-"

"Oh, pish, children are different to babies, Aaron, you know that," Elizabeth cut across him, curtly. Emily squeezed her fists at her side, eyes on Ava, who was wriggling in the swing, crying openly now. Elizabeth, though, folded her arms pertly across her chest and fixed Emily with a stare. "See? It's not hurting her to have a little cry, is it, Em? And it's not hurting you, either."

Emily, though, begged to differ as she felt the familiar ache in her breasts that always accompanied her daughter's cries. She sighed, heavily, and stepped forwards, unable to listen to Ava cry without at least trying to comfort her.

"Mother," Emily said, trying her hardest, and surprisingly succeeding, to keep her voice level as she reached back into the swing and lifted her crying daughter out of it, "My daughter is a week old-"

"Well, regardless-" Elizabeth began, but Emily spoke over her, still keeping her voice level. All too aware of how her own moods could affect the child in her arms, she tried to maintain what little sense of calm that she had right now, but felt on the edge of an eruption.

"No, mother," she said, levelly, "Ava is one. Week. Old. She is a baby." She emphasised the word, as though to remind her "She does not understand what it meant to 'manipulate'," Emily added a little extra venom to the word, even as she stroked a gentle hand down her infant's back, "She didn't ask to be born. We made that choice, Aaron and I, we brought her here. She didn't know hunger or pain or anything uncomfortable until I decided to have her, because I selfishly desired a baby. And we are her only source of comfort in a world she doesn't understand yet. Why the fuck would we deny her that?"

Elizabeth flinched at the curse, but Emily didn't back down, her eyes blazing, a stark contrast to the care with which she held her child. From where he stood, a few paces behind Elizabeth, Hotch looked on, approvingly. He had been about to step in when Emily proved that he didn't need to; she had been dealing with Elizabeth her whole life. Even now, emotional and full of post-partum hormones, she didn't need him to fight her battles.

"She cannot, does not know how to, 'manipulate' me." She said, with a finality. Elizabeth looked on with disapproval, her lips pursed, "And if she wants me to hold her every goddamn minute of the twenty-four hours in a day, then I'll bloody well do so, mother. Even if that does mean 'spoiling' her."

Ava was squawling now, truly screeching, and Emily sighed, heavily, her eyes blazing when she looked at her mother, "And thank you, for this."

She stalked from the room, Ava's cries growing more faint as she stomped up the stairs. Aaron watched his wife go, and then turned his gaze on Elizabeth, who looked at him, her finely stencilled eyebrows raised.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Shortly after that, Elizabeth made her leave. She looked pretty put out as she stalked down the garden path, Aaron waving to her from the door. He really wanted to slam it on her, but knew that Emily would appreciate him trying to keep the peace. She had been arguing with her mother her whole life, it was an integral part of their dynamic. It would be a whole different story if he started to argue with Elizabeth, too, and he knew Emily wouldn't appreciate it, so he bit his tongue and made nice on her behalf.

But he did breathe a sigh of relief when he closed the door and she was gone. It was like a dark cloud was lifted from the house.

He looked up the stairs, and softly called out, "Emily?" As he began to climb them.

Ducking his head into Jack's room, his son looked up at him from the carpet with a smile. He lay on his stomach, kicking his legs back and forth as he drew pictures.

"Hey, buddy," Aaron said, "You okay?"

"I'm okay," Jack nodded, "Did grandma leave?"

"She did," Aaron nodded, stepping into the room, "Yeah, I don't think we'll see her for a while."

"Good," Jack said, then looked thoughtfully down at the paper in front of him. When he met Aaron's eyes again, it was with the sort of startling clarity that a seven year old shouldn't have, "She makes Emmy sad."

Sad, nod mad. Not even after he'd heard Emily's raised voice towards her mother did Jack think badly of her. Perhaps, Aaron thought, not for the first time, profiling skills could be inherited, afterall.

"Emmy is okay," Aaron said, reassuring him, "She's just tired."

As if on cue, Jack yawned, and then Aaron did, too.

"Ava doesn't sleep good." Jack pointed out, matter-of-factly, and Aaron smiled.

"Not yet, but she will," as he said it, he hoped it was true, and then turned, "I'm going to check on Emmy, okay?"

"Okay." Jack said, turning back to the drawing. Aaron looked at it, and saw that it was a bassinet, holding a tiny little person with a pink bow. He smiled, love for his son sharp in his chest, and pulled the door as he stepped out into the hallway and made his way to the master bedroom.

"Em?" He said, softly, as he pushed the door open, half expecting to find both of his girls asleep, since he couldn't hear Ava's cries. The bedroom, though, was empty. He frowned, and called to her again, "Em?"

"In here." The soft call came from the bathroom, was barely audible, and Hotch followed her voice, stopping in the doorway at what he saw.

Emily, fully clothed, laying in the bath with Ava on her chest.

"I didn't think it would work without the water," she whispered, eyes downcast on her daughter's head as she stroked a gentle finger over Ava's crown, "But I got in anyway, just to try it. I was going to turn on the water, but she stopped crying almost instantly."

With a smile, Aaron settled himself down onto the toilet lid, clasping his hands in front of himself as he looked at his two girls. Emily didn't look particularly comfortable, but he knew better than to ask to take Ava right now, knew that she was bringing Emily as much comfort as Emily was bringing her.

Instead, he asked, "Are you okay?"

Emily waited a moment before answering, and Hotch saw the tension in her brow as she tried to find the right words. Eventually, she inhaled, slowly, and let all of the air go before answering him, "She just infuriates me."

"I know," he nodded, completely understanding, "I know. She always manages to say the wrong thing."

"It's not even that," Emily began, "I mean, yes, you're right, she does that, too, but it's more than that." She shook her head, started to say, "It's stupid-" but Aaron cut her off.

"It's not stupid," he said, earnestly, "It's not stupid, Em. Talk to me."

She fixed him with a stare, then, and he knew he was the person she trusted most in the world, knew she would lay down her life for him, that she would trust him to do the same for her, but there were still aspects of her life she hadn't completely shared with him yet, and her childhood was one of them. He knew the basics, knew the bones of the sore relationship she had with her mother, but the rest of it, the intricate details that patterned together to illustrate her tapestry of hurt, she kept closer to her heart than she should, close enough that it still huirt.

"She rushed to see Ava," she started, slowly, "She tried to tell me how to parent, tried to tell me what's best for my baby, because she has Ava's best interests at heart," Aaron scoffed and Emily rolled her eyes, "Or, she thinks she does." Again, she shrugged, "I don't know. I suppose I'm… jealous."

"Of Ava?" Aaron kept his face impassive, working hard to understand where she was coming from.

"Yeah," Emily touched her nose to her daughter's head, breathing in the evolutionarily enticing scent of baby that made her head rush and her heart swell, "Seems my mom cares more about her than she ever did about me." She looked up at Aaron, desperation in her eyes as she realised what she'd admitted out loud, "And, of course, I want people to-I want you to love her more than you love me, but-my own mother?" Her brows sloped down, confusion mingling with all of her other emotions, and he saw a twinge of guilt there, too, "Why couldn't she have loved me as much as she loves Ava?"

Aaron knew how much it took for her to say that; everything. Even before Ava, Emily couldn't admit how much she had craved her mother's love, as a child and into her adult years. She never spoke of how it hurt, Elizabeth's indifference, but he knew. He'd seen it in the way she still searched for her mother's approval, even as she simultaneously pushed away from her. He'd seen it in the way she always sent Elizabeth birthday and Christmas cards, even though she never got those in return. He'd seen it when Emily was in labour, when she cried out for her mother, and then made no mention of it afterwards.

He nodded. Even if nobody else would have understood, he did. He understood everything about her, everything she let him in on. He made it his mission to understand her, to help her.

"It's not crazy," Aaron said, shaking his head, "And it's not selfish. And it doesn't make you a bad mother, or mean you love her any less," At this, he exhaled, a short laugh of air, "God, no one could accuse you of not loving her, Em. I saw you when your mom took her from you. I thought we were going to be cleaning up a murder scene."

Emily raised one eyebrow, thinking back on the primal instinct that had grasped hold of her, "We almost were," she muttered, darkly, and Aaron laughed, again.

"See," he said, "You love her. You love her like a mother should. You're not the one who's wrong here, Em." His tone turned serious, as did his eyes, as he implored her to understand, "Your mom is. Every child deserves a mother who loves them as much as you love Ava, as much as you love Jack."

At this, she looked up at him, craning her neck, which was growing sore against the porcelain of the bath. There was an innocence, a sadness, in her eyes that he knew was much more to do with her exhaustion than it was to do with her interaction with Elizabeth. Her lack of sleep and her influx of hormones were catching up with her, and her bottom lip wobbled, adorably, when she spoke.

"I love them so much," she said, her voice cracking, "I just…I don't want to be like her."

"You're not," Aaron replied, instantly, shaking his head and, standing up off of the toilet seat, he reached down to take Ava from her chest. Emily didn't protest, and Ava didn't stir. Aaron leaned back, balancing her, instead, on his own chest. Supporting her with one hand, he offered Emily the other and she hauled herself out of the tub.

"Come on," he told her, "You should sleep while she sleeps."

"I won't be able to sleep," Emily said, sadly, even as she yawned, as widely as Jack had.

"Sure you will," Aaron pressed a kiss to her temple as they walked towards the bed, "Sleep now. We'll continue the fight against generational trauma tomorrow."

Emily punched him, lightly in the ribs, "Shut up," she said, but she was smiling, and she lay down as he pulled back the comforter for her. "I love you."

"We love you, too, mommy."

taglist: @hopefulfangirl24 @thebewingedjewelcat @platypus-whit-boots @luhwithah @cvtsbutcut3 @acetheticlytired @ccmattis-22 @duchessas @scorpiofangirl1109 @natasha-barton @lil-koala @themetaphorgirl @sequinsmile-x @emobabeyy @my-mummy-dust @section-chief-prentiss @canyouhearmyfear @psychicmuffinpandasludge @loriprentiss @bingetvcarls @thenerdthatwrites @daffodil-heart

#emily prentiss has mommy issues #and not the sexy kind #nature vs nurture #one shot #hotchners future au #hotchniss future au #ava hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #hotchniss #fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ao3 #ff.net #elizabeth prentiss #tw mentions of pregnancy #tw mentions of trouble conceiving

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enchantinglyjade · 2 years

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Milk & Honey - Ch. 21 (Part 1)

Austin!Elvis x Black!OC

Masterlist

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Summary: Elvis invites Honey to his 68 Special

Warning: Elvis being a FLIRT, sexual tension, swearing, Bobby Kennedy

Note: From here on out swearing and sexual topics are going to pick up cause Honey and Elvis got grown, confident, and been through too much shit

Song: Heartbreak Hotel, Jailhouse Rock, & Let Yourself Go - Elvis Presley

Playlist

Charles takes the small hotel bar of soap, lathering it in his hands, before patting the suds over the bottom half of his face. “Comb me.”

I sigh, reaching over my side of the sink to grab his comb. He takes it with a concentrated face, dragging it down his cheek to practice ‘shaving’ the suds off. I roll my eyes with a big smile, watching him in the corner of my eye while I continue applying eyeliner.

“Well, aren’t you two adorable.”

I jump, smearing black down my cheek. I pout angrily, before turning to the man in the doorway. “How the hell did you get in here?”

While still shaving off soap in the mirror, Charles says, “I let him in while you were on the toilet for the past 20 minutes.”

I swear this boy’s gonna get it one day.

“You are not supposed to be answering the door by yourself. It could be strangers." I say, trying desperately to change the subject.

He scoffs, splashing his face with water. “It’s just Dad, Ma.”

Aww. He called him Dad. At least things with Charles are going easily, now I just have this asshole to deal with.

Elvis looks down at the ground, poorly trying to hide his laughter. “I told you I was bringing you to my special today.” He looks up to smirk at me.

I grab a towel to scrub off the eyeliner from my face. “Yeah, I know. I just didn’t realize how much time passed.” I groan at my appearance in the mirror. The eyeliner would have to do. At least my hair looks okay. After many years of use, I finally put the hot comb to rest and let my hair do what it does naturally. Then many more years after giving up my ways, I finally learned how to get it perfectly coiled and bouncy. Though, I admit I may have paid a little extra attention to it today. Did I do it on purpose? Maybe. For what reasons? I’ll never tell.

“You look beautiful.”

I spin around to Elvis, eyes wide, before matching his soft smile. “Thank you.” So are you.

Dammit, Honey, quit thinking like that! I clear my throat. “Alright, Charles. Let’s head out now.”

We pile in the same fancy car from yesterday. Elvis breathes in deeply, playing with his shirt and tapping his foot. At a first glance, he appears calm and collected, his bold stare aimed at the window to take in its serene views, but his giveaways are showing; something’s bothering him.

He notices me watching him and chuckles. “Last time I sang in front of an audience, you were in the crowd.”

And what a performance it was.

I hum. “Me too.” I glance over at Charles. He’s staring out the window in awe at every little thing we pass by. Poor thing was raised in such a ghetto, that a grass lawn amazed him. Once I’m positive he’s too occupied to listen, I turn back to Elvis. “So, what did Marcella say?”

He stares at me for a moment, before looking down, pretending to adjust his belt. He remains in silence.

I drop my jaw in disbelief. “Elvis!”

He curses under his breath. “I got caught up talkin with these guys about the special last night. It slipped my mind.”

I cross my arms with a sneer, “Your child ‘slipped’ your mind.”

He points a warning finger at me. “Now don’t go twistin my words, Honey.”

I drop my head back against the seat in frustration. “What are you planning to say to her? Isn’t she going to be here today?”

He shrugs. “I’ll explain everything to her when we go in. She’s a very understanding person.”

I groan. “Understanding or not, she’s your wife, she deserved to know three days ago.” He is so unbelievable. One can only be so understanding and this is one of those situations where it should NOT be tested.

We pull up to the building way too quickly. Sonny parks the car in the back, then jumps out to open my door and help me out. My heart speeds when I see the entrance. I can’t believe he hasn’t told his own wife yet!

I take a deep breath, following Elvis inside, making sure to stay very far behind. He turns around to eye me in confusion , but if I can avoid being associated with him for as long as possible, I’d like to.

Then, she comes into view.

She looks just like she did on the news. “You’re here!” She exclaims, jumping into his arms to…kiss…him. I look between them and their color coordinated outfits in disgust. Please, I’ve already seen enough.

“‘Cella, baby. I got something I need to tell you.”

Then she sees me. Elvis turns, holding his arm out to gesture over to Charles and I. “‘Cella, this is Honey. She’s, uh- an old friend of mine.”

I would wave or do something to greet her, but honestly, I’m too scared to. I feel incredibly out of place, so I keep my distance, deciding it’d be best to leave the talking to him.

She looks down, clearly seeing Charles standing shyly behind me. Her face drops instantly. She knows. “Old friend, huh?” She whispers, hoping I won’t hear.

He scratches the back of his neck. “Um, the little one’s name is Charles…He’s my son.” She takes a long breath in, swallowing hard as if she was going to be sick. “I brought them here so we can all get to know each other. As a family. Is that alright, Marcella?”

She fidgets with her fingers, nodding frantically. “Yeah- Yeah, that’s more than alright. I mean, he is your son. I can’t be upset about your past, especially when it brings someone as precious as him. Of course it’s okay.”

I take note that she only mentions Charles and says nothing about me, but I’ll store that away for later.

Elvis turns around, tilting his head to gesture me over. I reluctantly walk towards him, Charles' hand in mine. “Hi, I’m Honey.” I nervously greet her.

She smiles, before pulling me into a big hug. My eyes widen, as I debate if I should hug her back or not. I give her a small pat on her arm, terrified to do much else. She pulls away with a happy sigh. “Honey, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Marcella. I can’t wait to get to know you and Charles better!” She exclaims excitedly, waving to Charles, before turning back to Elvis to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Steve wanted a word with you before you go out there.” She says, waving for us to follow her.

This girl crazy.

I stare at Elvis for help, doubtful of the situation I’ve found myself in, but he only smirks, walking into the room with his wife. I know in his head he’s thinking about how understanding she is just like he told me, but she ain’t fooling me. She’s a good actor though, I’ll give her that, but I guess we’ll see when her true feelings about us begin to show.

I groan, already wishing I was back at the hotel, then follow through the door behind them. One side of the room is lined with TV screens and windows, all with a view of the stage down below. The cameras all point to a red platform in the middle of the room, surrounded with impatiently waiting fans.

“Hey, who is this?” A man sitting next to Jerry at one of the desks asks, staring at me confused.

“Steve, this is an old friend of mine, Honey.” Steve looks at me doubtfully. “She’s the woman that threw me in jail back in ‘58.”

I gasp, nudging him. “I did not!”

He puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his chest. “Nah, I’m just foolin ya, bab-” He clears his throat, quickly removing his arm from me to adjust his shirt.

Steve smirks at me with an eyebrow raised. “Old friend, huh?”

Why’s everyone saying that??

“-Here Comes Santa Claus, and that Little Drummer Boy, all of the classics, don’t you worry.”

My stomach twists. It’s him. I could recognize that voice anywhere.

I spin around to see The Colonel in the doorway. His face takes on a vicious form upon seeing me, instantaneously threatening me with a pointed finger. “You. I remember you. I thought I told you to stay far away from this man.” He hisses.

Elvis steps in front of me, putting up a hand in front of his manager's. “Hey, don’t ever talk to her like that. She’s here to stay now.”

“She is?”

“I am?”

Marcella and I say simultaneously.

Elvis runs his hands through his hair while he looks back at his wife. “It’s just- This whole program is to help me find my way back home. She helps me get to that place. She’s gonna help me find my way home again.” He turns to smile affectionately at me, completely oblivious to the sheer disappointment in Marcella’s eyes.

Colonel scoffs. “Well, if by home, you mean the North Pole, then we’re in business. Yay, it’s Christmas!” He claps, nervously eyeing the men in suits behind him, who stare back at him with dubious eyes. He gives one warning look to Elvis, before guiding the men to their seats.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Alright, E.P., head to the dressing rooms. We’re on in 20.”

Elvis nods and takes his leave, Marcella following close behind him. Once they exit, everyone in the room takes a long look at me before turning back to their work, everyone except Jerry, who just stares at me behind his sunglasses. He tilts his head over to the exit, standing up to walk out of the door. I take this as he wants me to follow, and walk to stand out in the hallway with him. Charles boredly eyes posters along the wall, while we talk.

Jerry leans back against a wall, removing his sunglasses to tuck them between the highest button clasped on his shirt. He clears his throat. “So, what’s your deal?”

I nervously play with my sleeves, unsure what type of answer he’s looking for. I wasn’t expecting an interview today, but I’m not surprised that his new family is suspicious of me. “What do you mean?” I question.

He points down the hall towards the dressing rooms. “I’ve seen that man with girl after girl.” Gee thank you, Jerry. “Something's different with you. I mean, obviously there was something between you two.” He scoffs, looking over at Charles. “But, what’s the story?”

I shrug. “Known each other a long time, I guess.”

He hums. “Long lost lovers?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

“Marcella know?”

“Somethin’ like that…” I awkwardly tug on my clothes.

He sighs, crossing his arms. “Look, no disrespect, but…is E.P. actually his dad? Because if you’re just trying to get money, I hate to break it to you, but we’re pathetically low.” He scoffs out the last part, dry but honest.

I throw my arms down to my sides in frustration. “Jerry, look at him! That’s Elvis’ baby!” We both look down the hallway at Charles who is now dancing to the absolute silence that was playing, his blonde hair bouncing at his every jump.

Jerry smirks, shaking his head at the scene. Seems I’ve managed to convince him with just that. “So why’d you break?” He asks.

“It ain’t obvious enough?” I scoff. “Folk didn’t exactly take kindly to us in the 50’s, if you can believe that. Amongst…other reasons.” I say, side eyeing Colonel through the window of the previous room. He follows my gaze, nodding once he lands on him. “Did Elvis never mention me…? We were in the news and everything.” I ask, confused.

He shrugs. “Colonel does a good job covering what he doesn’t want seen. And E.P. can be a tough nut to crack sometimes.”

“I have no doubt.” I scoff, looking away to peer down the hallway.

Just then, a parade of stomps swing around the corner. The first thing I see is a black boot step out and with it comes leather pants, clung offensively tight to a pair of legs. My breathing slows as my eyes scan from the floor up his body. He shakes his arms out, adapting to his jacket, also made of leather, before raising one of his ring cladded hands to tug the jacket firm against him. He keeps his chin high and walks with pure confidence. A smile pulls on his pink lips at something the man beside him says, his teeth flashing beneath his lopsided grin. Lord, he looks like lust with legs. He scans the hall until landing dangerously upon me, gunning me down until I have to tilt my head back just to match his gaze.

He hums out a chuckle. “Come on, Honey. I want you out there with me. I need a pretty face to look at while I’m on stage.” He commands deeply, pressing his hand into my lower back.

Is he-? Is he flirting with me??

I swallow, skittishly looking for my son, waving him over to follow me. “You, uh, you look good, Elvis.” The compliment comes out wavering and nervous.

“I know.” He winks, flashing me that sin of a smirk.

Oh! What did I do to deserve this torture?

He keeps his head up, shoulders back, proud and determined, marching his way to the stage. Cheers and applause fill the room, overwhelming my body with excitement even if it wasn’t for me. Jerry takes me away from Elvis and escorts us to the side just behind the audience and right next to Marcella.

“Oh, I’m so proud of him.” She squeals quietly as Charles and I take our seats.

I’m sure you are.

Charles clings onto my arm tightly. I peek down at him to make sure he’s okay, but instead of finding a bored or anxious little boy, I find a bright smile on his face. He waits with bated breath to see his hero and now dad perform right before his eyes.

I sigh. I’m here for Charles to have a father. It doesn’t matter what bullshit I have to go through, it’s for Charles.

I close my eyes, repeating those words in my head over and over.

It’s all for Charles.

‘Well, since my baby left me’

Lord have mercy.

‘Well, I found a new place to dwell

Well, it’s down at the end of Lonely Street

At Heartbreak Hotel’

It feels like I’m seeing him for the first time all over again. It’d been so long since I had last seen him perform, I nearly forgot how powerful he is. God, what a man.

‘Where I’ll be

I’ll be so lonely, baby

I’ll be so lonely

I’ll be so lonely I could die’

My mind flashes with memories of his Trouble performance. The passion, the rawness, the dirtiness, the campagne. Is it weird I’m envious of myself right now? He has that same danger in his eyes, that same thrill in his lust.

He throws himself around on the stage earning screams and squeals from the girls in the front rows.

His voice, his stare, his hips, that smirk. Oh, I should be in church with the feelings I was having.

‘They were dancing

Well, they were dancing

To the jailhouse rock’

Those feelings never went away. All those years of pushing away thoughts of him, hiding the love I felt in my heart were all very present and starving for his attention.

He runs a hand through his black hair, smoothing it while catching his breath. “It’s been a long time, baby.” He says into the mic, before making direct eye contact with me. “A long time.”

A sharp breath hitches in my chest. I was under his spell again.

Eventually the crowd clears out, making room for a new set to be laid out.

“That was great, baby!” Marcella jumps in his arms, greeting him with a kiss the second we meet up with him again backstage.

“Thank you, baby.” He smiles down at her.

Absolute torture.

“E.P. we have a problem.” Steve jogs up to us, papers in hand. “One of the dancers called in sick. We need a girl to fill in as a replacement.” He smiles guiltily. “Marcella?”

She puts her hands up, shaking them. “Oh, I’m no performer. I couldn’t.” She laughs awkwardly.

Steve bites his lips together, glancing at me from the side. “Honey?” He asks hesitantly, but hopeful.

Elvis scoffs. “Honey can’t dance. She’s too old now.” He teases playfully with a smile.

I know he didn’t.

I cross my arms, protecting my dignity from him with a huff. “I’ll do it.”

Steve lets out a breath of relief, before reaching for my hand. “Good, come on. I gotta have the other girls teach you the steps as quickly as possible.”

I follow him, glancing pridefully over my shoulder. Elvis’ smile disappears from his face, replaced with a look of discomfort while Marcella tugs on his arm for his attention. Serves him right.

I spend the next 20 minutes learning the dance moves. They try teaching me how to look as though I was being seduced by Elvis for the performance, but trust me, I didn’t need lessons to do that.

Once I perform sufficely, Steve sends me back to the dressing rooms with my costume, but he doesn’t say exactly which room to go in. I stand in the center of a hallway of doors, each one equally as generic and unspecified as the next.

They need me out there quick, I don’t have time for this.

I pick the first door I see, bursting through, only to see Elvis smoothing out his new outfit, a nice blue suit. I stand frozen as the door shuts behind me.

He whips around to face me, a grn forming on his face when he recognizes it’s me. “Well. How’s my little dancer?”

I roll my eyes, shoulders dropping in comfort. “Panicking”

He walks over to pick at the little gold bits that hang off the clothing items in my arms. “They want you in this here little number?” He pries with an eyebrow raised.

I sigh. “I know. I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s not a lot and I don’t exactly have the body I used to.” I, by all means, don’t think my body is horrible, but I’d be lying if I said it was back to what it was before having Charles.

He shakes his head. “A lil weight never hurt nobody. I definitely can’t say much right now.” He says, patting on his belly. “‘Sides, I always thought you looked cute when you’re all soft and plump. That lil weight suits you well, mama.” He winks, walking back over to his vanity.

Okay, that’s gotta be flirting.

I clear my throat, unsure how to respond, but a smile creeps onto my face no less. He still thinks I’m cute. I quickly shake my head. No time for this right now. I look around the room, searching for something to hide behind. “Um, do I just change in here? They need me out there soon.”

He raises a brow over his shoulder. “Yeah, go ahead.” He faces the vanity, playing around with some sort of product on it. Who is he fooling? He’s standing in front of a mirror. I ain’t changing right here.

I put my hands on my hips and, like I suspect, not even 3 seconds go by before I see him sneak a peek in the mirror. He smirks knowing that he got caught but looks back down pretending it didn’t happen. “Go ahead. I ain’t lookin.”

“Mhm.” I huff, turning around to remove my shirt. Hopefully, no one walks in on us. I slip on the garments, quickly learning that it is in fact not a whole lot of clothes. I shift uncomfortably in the tight pink bra, before smoothing out the matching short skirt. I turn around, finding Elvis leaning his back against the vanity, his entire body fully facing me.

I put my hands on my hips. “How long were you watching me?”

His eyes widen, meeting my face finally. “Watchin? I wasn’t watchin. I just turned around.” He lies poorly.

I groan, walking over to the vanity. I take a look in the mirror, noticing just how small and tight the outfit is. I’ve never in my life worn something this revealing. I try and pull the skirt down to cover myself as much as possible, but it does very little. “Please don’t let my son see me like this.”

He chuckles, patting my arm just as there’s a knock on the door. A woman peers in, her eyes landing on me. “There you are. We need you in makeup right away.”

“Give’er the works. She needs it. Lookin deader than an armadillo on the side of the road.” Elvis teases.

“Oh! You-” I hit on the arm, watching him grab it in pain, but still continuing the laugh. The woman giggles, exiting back into the hallway.

Elvis puts his arm around me. “You know I don’t mean it. You’re still my little Mississippi queen.” I shake my head in annoyance, before releasing myself from his hold to walk towards the door. “Well maybe not so little no more.” I gasp, but before I have time to be offended or even turn around to scold him I feel a slap on my ass.

I freeze, spinning on my toes to face him. “Did you just-”

He remains still, eyeing me over. “Reachin for something, my bad.” He lies with an evil smirk plastered on his lips.

I stay frozen in my spot, still processing what just happened. He chuckles, pushing me towards the door. “Come on. They need us out there.”

After sitting in a chair, getting my face with colors and my hair big and fluffy, not that it needed much help to get there anyway, I find myself on stage, contemplating my every life decision.

“Steve?” I call.

“Yes?”

“This outfits cute and all, but why am I dressed like this?”

“It’s a part of the whore house skit.” He answer nonchalantly, exiting the stage to go upstairs to the control room.

Damn. I know I had a baby with the guy, but the names are a little uncalled for.

Five minutes before shooting, Elvis finally enters the stage, cheerful and thrilled like he didn’t just slap my ass minutes prior, or, sorry, I guess he was reaching for something. I can’t believe him. Everything he’s done and said today has left me entirely flabbergasted.

I take a deep breath, remembering I’m about to be recorded. MaybeI shouldn’t have agreed to this. I have to perform in front of all these people, in front of him! People across the country are going to watch this. Lord, all those girls back at the church are going to see me in this, I’ll never have a job again.

“As much as I love seein you bounce all over the place, I remember you always did that when you were nervous. What’s goin on, darlin?” Elvis cuts me from my thoughts, placing a hand on my shoulder to stabilize me.

Bouncing? Was I bouncing? “Sorry, I just ain’t been in the public eye for some time.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re cute when you're nervous.” He says deeply, in a whisper.

There he goes. “You’re flirting with me again.”

“I ain’t flirting with nobody. It’s who I am.”

“Places everyone!”

The music begins, the girls and I swaying in our spots before stalking towards Elvis who enters the scene. He comes in smiling, admiring each of us. Two girls pull a chair to the middle of the room, setting it behind Elvis. I twirl my hips, extending my hand to push him down into the chair.

Each of the girls take their turn throwing themselves at him, before he stands up, backing me into a corner for the last lines of the song.

“Take a deep breath and put your warm red lip on mine

Just do like I tell you, everything’s gonna be just fine”

He spins me around, dipping me, grabbing onto me, pressing himself against me as he sings in my ear.

“Kiss me nice and easy, take your time

Baby I’m the only one here in line”

He grabs my neck, forcing me to look into his lust filled eyes. He brings our faces so close our noses bump. I’m told to pretend to look madly in love with him, as if I’m under a trance just by his gaze, but it would take one powerful woman to have to ‘pretend’.

“All you gotta do it just let yourself go”

I grin, ghosting my fingertips down his cheek. Our lips are only centimeters away from each other, I could practically taste him.

Then, a whistle is blown. “Cut!”

The girls whoop, walking off stage, but I can’t bring myself to leave Elvis' side. My beating heart missed being looked at by him like this. I'd do anything to have just another second under his touch. And Lord, I want those lips on mine again.

Just then a scream erupts from backstage.

“Bobby Kennedy’s been shot!”

-Taglist -

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diorleclerc · 1 year

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞 + 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐨

merry christmas and happy holidays besties!! i wrote a few holiday drabbles a few months ago and completely forgot to queue them last night lmao

daniel woke up in the middle of the night, reaching out for you but your side of the bed was empty. he thought that you’d gone to the bathroom but then he heard a noise coming from downstairs. he slips out of bed and quietly makes his way down.

he sees the dim light coming from the kitchen and walks in to see you sitting at the island. your son had set out a glass of milk and a plate of cookies for santa before he went to bed, but you ended up getting to it before santa did.

daniel was amused as he watched you eat the cookies, not even noticing that he was there.

“why are you stealing santa’s cookies?” daniel spoke up just as you were about to grab another cookie and take a bite. “i was hungry,” you shrug. “it’s three in the morning, love,” daniel says, coming to sit down next to you. “so? santa’s allowed to eat in the middle of the night but i’m not? that doesn’t seem fair,” you say and he laughs.

“i think he’s gonna be a bit disappointed when he stops by our house and there’s no cookies left for him,” daniel jokes. “oh well. he got cookies from all the other houses already. he’ll survive without the cookies from our house,” you say.

“you’re okay though right?” daniel asks. “yeah, i just woke up and craved cookies,” you shrug.

“remember the last time you had cravings in the middle of the night-“

daniel cuts himself off as he realized when that was. “are you…” he starts, glancing down at your stomach then back up to your face.

“maybe,” you say quietly. “maybe? are you- are you serious?” he asks. “i think so. i haven’t taken a test yet. but i’ve been feeling the same symptoms for the past few days,” you explain.

“can you take one right now?” daniel asks. “now? i was going to wait until after christmas to do it. you know, just in case it’s negative. i don’t want us to be disappointed on christmas,” you explain.

“but if it’s positive, then it’ll be the perfect christmas present. and if not, then i’ll just have to knock you up tomorrow,” daniel says and you smack his arm in response.

“okay, let’s take one then.”

daniel waits for you outside the bathroom and comes in once you’re done. he sets a timer and you both sit on the ground, backs leaned against the wall as you waited for the test to be done.

you’re both nervous about the results. you hadn’t been trying for a baby, deciding to just let it happen. but now the thought of turning your family of three into a family of four was all you could think about and there wasn’t anything you wanted more.

“it’s done,” daniel says when his timer went off. daniel picks up the test off the counter, not looking at the result until he’s sitting down next to you again.

“i can’t look, you tell me,” you say, shutting your eyes. you’re convinced that the test will be negative and tried to prepare yourself for the disappointment.

“it’s positive.”

you open your eyes, looking at him to see if he’s joking.

“what?”

“it’s positive,” daniel says, turning the test around to show you. “we’re gonna have a baby,” he says. “oh my god, i’m pregnant. we’re gonna have another baby,” you whisper, processing everything. “we’re having a baby,” you repeat, throwing your arms around his neck.

“yeah we are,” daniel whispers against your neck. “best christmas present i could ask for,” daniel says, kissing you softly.

you both head back to bed but you’re both way too excited to to fall asleep now.

daniel was laying on your stomach while you played with his hair when you heard small footsteps approach your room.

“mommy? daddy?” you hear your son’s quiet voice as he enters your room. “yeah buddy? everything okay?” daniel asks, sitting up and helping him climb into bed between you two. “i went downstairs to get some water and saw that the milk and cookies were gone,” he explains.

“that means santa stopped by right?” he asks and you and daniel share a smile. “yeah honey, i think he did,” you answer. “i can’t wait to open all the presents he left,” your son says, snuggling against you. daniel wraps his arm around both of you.

“well, if you don’t go back to sleep right now, he’s going to come back and take those gifts away,” daniel says.

you’d think that your six year old son would be the one having trouble falling asleep when christmas was the next morning, but he was fast asleep.

instead, it was you and daniel who were awake, both of you thinking about how your little family was about to have a new member.

#dr #daniel ricciardo fluff #diorleclerc drabbles

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hookingminor · 2 years

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“if you called just to get off on my voice, i’m hanging up. “ with pld please

“If you called just to get off on my voice, I'm hanging up.”

for a split second i wanted to make this a cheating fic what is it about pld that screams cheater idk idk (i didn’t bc i know that’s not everyone’s cup of tea)

(18+) phone sex, masturbation

It was a rare occasion that anyone called you on the phone nowadays, but it was even more rare to receive a call in the middle of the workday and from your regular bootycall nonetheless.

“Hello?” You answered your phone curiously. You could only assume it was a matter of life and death if Pierre was calling you at three in the afternoon.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted huskily. “You at work?”

“It’s three o’clock on a Tuesday, so yes,” you chuckled. “What’s up? Aren’t you in Pittsburgh right now?” It was just a little past four where he was.

“I missed you…” His voice trailed off for a moment, and you could hear the low rumble of the TV on in the background. “Are you alone right now?”

“Yeah, I’m in my office finishing up some paperwork,” you chuckled. “Isn’t the game soon?”

“We’re heading to the arena in half an hour,” he confirmed. “Can you spare me a few minutes of your time?”

It took a minute for the gears to click into place in your head, and mixed with the slightly ragged breathing and deep voice on Pierre’s end, you pieced it together.

“If you called just to get off on my voice, I'm hanging up.”

He protested immediately, and you expected nothing less, but he didn’t have to know you were already closing your door and locking it while he begged you to not hang up.

“Baby, just ten minutes please,” he whined across the line. “It’s been a week since I fucked you, and I’m dying here. You don’t even have to dirty talk me. Just tell me about your day and I’ll get there.”

“Really?” You teased. “Would telling you about my plans for running errands later get you hard?”

“I was hard the second you said hello,” Pierre admitted. “What are you running errands for?”

A faint rustle let you know he was shifting around, most likely to sneak a hand into his pants to stroke his cock.

Wanting to test his theory, you kept the facade up. “Grocery shopping for starters,” you said. “I need to get more cereal since someone eats all my Froot Loops when they come over. Probably get some milk, coffee, and bread. You know, the usual stuff. Quick trip to the post office after that before it closes at five to send out some packages to my family.”

“Any plans for tonight?” His voice was strained.

“Maybe watch the game while I make dinner…”

“Maybe?” He asked. “Not sure if you wanna watch us beat the Penguins?”

“You know I’m always going to root for Crosby over you,” you teased him.

“You’re killing me, you know that?”

“Of course I will be watching the game,” you said. “I stand by rooting for Crosby though, but I guess I can spare some support for you. I’ll probably make some pasta for dinner and have some wine… maybe I’ll call you after the game so you can get me off when I’m in bed.”

“I’d love to, baby, but I don’t know if Lowry will appreciate me asking how wet you are.”

“I don’t mind him listening in. It’ll take more than that to dissuade me,” you added.

Pierre let out a moan of approval at your words, and you could tell his hand was picking up the pace. “Careful before I actually extend that invitation to him,” he warned.

“Come on, Luc, we both know you’re not the type to share…” Pierre was uniquely jealous even when it came to you. Not that you were together exclusively or anything, but he always made sure to mark you up whenever you had sex and kept a firm grip on your waist whenever you went out.

“No one else would know how to handle you like I know how,” Pierre grunted. “And no one else could fill you up like me.”

“Mmm… You’re probably right,” you agreed. “Maybe I’ll get myself off tonight thinking about that…”

“When I get back in a few days, I’m going to fuck you sideways, I swear,” Pierre promised.

“Threat or promise? Either way, I’ve got a new mirror in my room to show you when you do.” Maybe you’d show it to him early and send him some pictures during intermission.

“Yeah?” He said, his breathing becoming more labored by the second.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “It reflects the end of my bed and is about eight feet tall. I can send you a picture later if you want. Maybe you can show it to Adam while you’re at it and see what he thinks about it.”

His groans increased in volume throughout your words, and by the end of your sentence you knew he was finishing across his stomach. A few more seconds of his heavy breathing went on before slowing down, and you couldn’t help but clench your thighs together as you listened to him work through his orgasm.

“I have to say,” you started after giving him a few moments to recover. “I didn’t think grocery shop talk would actually get you there.”

A deep laugh sounded across the line. “Only you could make me come talking about bread and mail.”

“We’ll have to see what other boring things I can come up with to say in bed,” you joked. “I hate to cut this off, but your ten minutes are up, bud. And you’ve got a bus to catch soon.”

“Mood killer,” he stated, and you could imagine the smirk on his face. “I’ll call you later tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed. “Good luck tonight.”

Pierre said his goodbyes before you hung up. Only thirty seconds passed before your phone was lighting up with a new text message from Pierre, and in that message contained a picture of his softening cock with white ropes of cum decorating his stomach.

You bit your lip examining the image, sending a quick text back over to Pierre. Trying to focus on your work after that was useless, especially with the image of his cock burning in your mind, so you clocked out early and headed home. Maybe you’d have to make a quick pit stop at home before heading to the store…

#pierre luc dubois #pierre luc dubois imagine #nhl imagine #my writing #requests #blurbs #jets13

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peachyxboy · 8 days

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A Love so Sweet, it Hurts 🥀 - Valentine 💌

San Diego, CA

Feburary 16th, 2011

Some days Tala felt like she could never catch a break. From the day she was born, to being smuggled out of Philippines, etc. her whole life has been a struggle. But, so has every single person's on Earth, and like her father always told her: the moment you stop and think about how unfair your life is, you'll be old and dying and wallowing in your own self-pity. When she was younger, she never really understood all the life lessons her parents taught her till she faced them. Like today, she was breaking down over a relationship that she never really got over, meanwhile she had a patient in Exam Room 3 that was there to get clearance for her breast augmentation. Despite priding herself that all her patients had adequate care, frankly Tala couldn't give a shit right now.

"I know you probably think I'm some bimbo, but I just want to surprise my husband, you know? Figured a new, perky set would be more eye-catching than a haircut," she teased.

Perky to match the personality, Tala thought. She walked in with pep in her step, and a toothy grin that didn't seem to leave her face. Her expression was usually not one you would see in a hospital, but it would've been appreciated more, had Tala not have other things on her mind.

"Did you plan on breastfeeding?"

Her smile immediately fell and, shocked by the seemingly unrelated question. "I-I beg your pardon?"

"Breastfeeding. Your file says you're not planning to get pregnant any time soon, but if you, take my advice and wait till they deflate from lack of milk then consider getting them done. Until then, just use a push-up, guys only see what they want to see, so he'll hardly notice when it comes off. Also, you don't have to convince me that you want them done for your husband. I'm not a guy, just a doctor, you don't have to justify your wants and wishes as pleasing your husband," Tala explained as she pocketed her pen, "Head to the waiting area, they'll call you up for a copy of your referral."

"You're still giving me clearance? But you just-"

"Just gave you my opinion. Whether you take it or not is not my problem as soon as you walk through that door. Have a good day."

Without letting her get another word in, Tala swiftly stood from her chair and left the room. She had about three more hours, meaning she needed another cup of coffee. Fortunately for her, Dr. Henry Mercer was already there. He was a neurologist that drove a Lamborghini and a new date to every holiday party. Unfortunately, he was Tala's only real work friend and never let her wallow alone in her own self-pity. "You know, we have security for unwanted reporters, you don't have to make death threats every time one comes in."

"A pen in the eye is hardly a threat. We both know you've had patients who survived worse," she remarked, ordering her third cup of the day.

"Studies had show that caffeine used as a mild antidepressant for people, causing increased turnover of neuro-transmitters," he continued.

"Is this gonna be on the test?"

Henry laughed as well, but didn't let her jokes deter him from the point. "I know you don't like talking about it, but if you need to, you know I'm always here."

Her sarcasm left in that moment and she tried her hardest not to get choked up, "Nothing to talk about."

"Tala, we're way past the angsty teen denial. The more you push and press everything down, it won't feel better."

"I DON'T WANNA FEEL BETTER!"

Even the barista jumped and spilled the milk. She felt her body start to shake as tears filled her eyes, unable to hold back now that the gates were open. Yet, Henry seemed glad that she was showing some emotion over the situation. "Go home, Tala, get some rest."

She shook her head, "I can't-"

"You can and you will," he took both his and her coffee, "Don't worry about anyone else but you."

"Can't really do that anymore."

Dr. Velasco's House - Albuquerque, New Mexico

Circa 2004

Lalo didn't think that would come out of her mouth. The doctor seemed so withdrawn, and reserved when it came to her feelings. Yet, here she was asking him to stay while she lay drunk. It was definitely out of her usual character, but it was nice seeing this side of her. As much as he loved hearing that sharp wit and seeing her furrowed brows, he preferred her smile. And Lalo just loved to think he was one of the few people who saw it.

He didn't answer, though she didn't seem to notice as Tala had already fallen asleep. Bold of her to allow such vulnerability, but he wouldn't do anything. After all, his first attempt at affection literally lead her to throw up. So, he would wait for now, until she specifically asked, he wouldn't act. However, Lalo would stay the night. He sat as her bedside for hours, watching and waiting as time passed. He learned three things that night:

Tala was a light weight.

She was a side sleeper and drooled a little in her sleep.

He had never felt like this for anyone else in his entire life.

By the time 6 AM hit, Lalo was gone. In his place was a little note on her bedside table,

Thank you, and until next time Doctora.

Tala smiled upon reading it, but the memories of the night before came flooding in and she immediately smacked herself in the face with the pillow. Not only did she get drunk and threw up, but she threw up RIGHT AFTER he kissed her forehead. Lalo probably thought she was some gross idiot. After a long and cold shower to sober up, Tala went on her usual routine when she had the day off: grocery shopping, car wash, calling her parents, etc. and did anything and everything to keep her mind off of things. However, that all seemed to be for naught as she received a call from a familiar number.

"Doctora," Lalo greeted as he looked over the shelves of travel brochures, roughly picking out the same ones Michael did from the CCTV footage.

"Lalo."

Even her voice held a certain charm that he couldn't get out of his head. "I hope you slept well. Sorry for letting myself out this morning, I had some...business to attend to."

"No, it's okay. Honestly, I'm really really sorry about last night. I should've never drank that much and threw up and..." she rambled out more apologies, but his chuckling seemed to quiet them.

"It's alright, I'm just glad that you're okay. Actually, I was calling to see if you were available again tonight?"

She paused and sighed disappointedly, "Unfortunately I can't tonight, I have a friend's birthday I have to go to. And I probably won't be available till Saturday."

"Making me wait so long?" Lalo teased, "Alright then, Saturday?"

"Saturday."

"I'll be waiting."

Lalo ended the call, smiling from ear to ear. Despite having to wait 3 days to see her again, Lalo would cherish every second of anticipation. Though, that smile quickly left upon hearing the small whimpering from the boy in the corner of the room. Apparently he wasn't dead just yet.

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