angriestman | (no subject)

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rachel

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There's so much about this month that's pissing him off. The fact that he can't work on the house pisses him off. The clothes piss him off. The weather pisses him off. Abot the only thing that's good about this month is being around Rachel.

Coming in out of the cold, he shuts the door behind him and shrugs out of his coat.

"Rach?"

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"Babe, look," she says, pointing at the Christmas tree she made Danny drag up for her. "Look how fucking domestic I'm being." It actually doesn't look half bad, especially for her. It's kind of homey.

She stretches her back a little, ridiculous Victorian dress stretched tight over her belly.

"I got a fire started back up because it's fucking freezing. How're you doing?"

"Well, isn't that something?" he says, genuinely smiling as he walks up behind her. He watches her stretch and then his hand's in the small of her back, thumb rubbing against the fabric of her dress.

"Holdin' up okay?"

"M'fine," she murmurs, leaning back to kiss his cold neck. She knows he hates the clothes. She hates the clothes. But she does not hate the clothes on him. He looks ridiculously hot and she wants it 24/7.

"I'm definitely going to be in full on elastic waist maternity shorts when this shit ends, though. Feels like I got huge overnight. Merry Christmas Eve, Raylan."

It's strange, how different their relationship was last Christmas.

She kisses his neck and his fingers graze along her jaw. His arm tightens around her and, for a moment, he holds her lose.

"And you'll still be beautiful," he says, dropping a kiss into her hair. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

"Excellent answer," she says, threading her fingers through his and resting them on her belly. She stands there for a moment, taking in the fire and the tree and them and this weird little family they accidentally created.

"I've never really had this," she says matter of fact. "I guess neither of us did. It's...good. I'm happy."

He stands there with his hands on her belly, leaned in against her back, thumbs still stroking.

"Me too," he says, pressing a kiss behind her ear. "What do you want for Christmas, Rach?"

He's got her some things from the stores, but he's pretty sure that that's not all that she's going to want.

She takes a breath and bites back the fucking insane urge to say something she'll regret. Or that's going to freak him out.

"I want you to make me breakfast," she says, squeezing his hands. "And then I want to spend the entire day in bed, having sex and then I want to take a really luxurious bath. What about you?"

Gently, slowly, he turns her in his arms, that that he can pull her in and land a gentle kiss on her lips.

"I think I could run to all of that."

"That doesn't tell me what you want," she points out, leaning against him. "You need to get better at asking for things."

"Right now, I want to make you happy," he says, combing his fingers through her hair. "I'll figure the rest of it out later."

"You've got that covered so I'd start working on the list," she says, smacking his ass. "God, I love these clothes on you. I mean, I never would have thought I'd like layers but it's like unwrapping a present." She removes his vest slowly, grinning up.

"Did you seriously just compare me to a gift?" he asks, shifting his hips against her when she slaps him, shrugging out of the vest and letting it hit the floor.

He'll pick up later.

"This face," she says, undoing his shirt buttons, "and this body are a fucking revelation."

"So yes, a very nice gift that I very much appreciate."

"This face and this body have been the same since you met me," points out Raylan, standing there are letting her undress him, grinning. "Just to remind you."

"But I really like the new wrapping," she points out, kissing across his bare chest. "It suits you. Plus this face and this body are still the best I've ever seen."

"Flattery's gonna get you everywhere," he promises, cradling her face and leaning in to give her a proper kiss on the mouth.

"Not that you haven't been everywhere already."

"I really kind of have," she laughs against his mouth, tracing a fingernail down his back. "You make me crazy, you know that? I don't even notice other guys, anymore. How nuts is that?"

"I think it's called being in love," he says, starting to guide her towards the bedroom. "At least, I think that's what it's called. Crazy, right?"

"Oh shit, is that what's going on with us?" she teases, undoing her gown and exposing her maternity corset and thin underdress. "I guess you're stuck with me and this kid, then."

"I think it might be," he says, easing her back towards the bed and then going down on one knee to unlace her. "Either that, or I'm sickening for somethin'."

She stretches her arms above her head, arching her back slightly to give him room to move. Her fingers brush the soft sheets as she smiles up at the ceiling.

"We'll go with love, then," she says, spreading her legs just enough to be obvious there are no undergarments under the dress.

Slowly, he sinks down onto his knees , leaning in until he can press his lips to the smooth skin of her inner-thigh.

"I love you."

"I really, really love you," she laughs, wriggling until the corset works free and only the thin, white cotton shift remains, hiked up around her hips. She runs a hand across her belly and up to the swell of her now even fuller breasts.

"No one's ever made me feel like this."

"Good," he says, mouth still against her skin. He's aware of needing to shave, but she doesn't seem to be complainin' too hard.

"Have It old you today how fucking beautiful you are?"

"You know I think you actually did," she says, breath hitching as his rough face slides along the soft skin of her inner thigh.

"C'mon," she murmurs, lifting her hips. "I want you."

"Patience," he breathes, sucking lightly on her skin before he leans up, pressing a kiss right between her legs. "I'm takin' my time."

"Raylan," she groans as his mouth just brushes against her. "God, don't tease your pregnant girlfriend. I've been thinking about this all day. You're so fucking hot."

"This isn't teasing, baby," he murmurs, getting comfortable between her thighs, spreading her with his fingers so that he can get at her. "This is foreplay. Just makes everythin' after way better."

"Is it getting really old that teaches you so much patience?" she wonders, a breathy moan escaping as his warm breath ghosts across her.

"Did you just call me really old?" he murmurs, slapping the back of her thigh, and then he doesn't speak again, not for a while, mouth and tongue and fingers working against her.

"I like old," she gasps, twisting her fingers in his hair as he smacks her, the sensation going straight between her legs. "I love it. Fuck, I love you."

She doesn't say much else for several long minutes, writhing and moaning, eyes squeezed shut. Nothing has ever felt like this and she starts to shake as she grows closer.

He knows her, by now, knows her body well enough to know she's coming close. His hands tighten on her thighs, spreading them wider, completely applied to the task in hand.

All it takes to push her over there is him, gripping her thighs tight and pushing them wide before her back arches up off the bed and the breath is punched out of her with how good it is. She shudders and twists her hips against him, breath ragged as she moans his name, finally verbal as she comes back down.

"God," she groans, running her nails along his scalp.

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