#It’s nuts. wish it wouldn’t. like I’m not trying to sleep.

[candycryptids]

*ooooh* buddy. How blessed I am to be alive. And capable of feeling a wide range of sensations. Even that one. ☠️

[raya-hunter01]

I have never requested a story before so here goes 🙈 could you write about yn had a baby with Roman or Jey. They haven't had s3x in 2 months and Roman or Jey are getting frustrated so yn asks her parents to mind the baby for the weekend so she can make it up to him 🙈🫣

Alone Time

One-Shot

Roman Reigns x Skylar

Warning: Smut and fluff!

Roman and Skylar are on cloud nine after their son is born...The only problem is now they are on month four of no sex and the sexual frustration is mounting.

This was requested a long time ago by lilmizzlou35 sorry it took so long. I hope you enjoy it.

“Trin I didn’t stutter and stop looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“So, you mean to tell me that you and Roman ain’t had sex since Jackson was born?” “Will you keep it down before they hear you,” I hissed looking around the corner at the guys who were playing spades in the living room. “Damn, I’m sorry, but are you serious right now?”

“Yes, I’m serious….Four months, no sex but we’ve done oral,” I whined as she looked at me still in shock.

“So, you’ve been cleared for two months to have sex but ya’ll ain’t had none!” Trin exclaimed as I blushed praying nobody was ease dropping on our conversation.

“I am tired Trin, I’ve been trying to get Jackson on a schedule. Roman goes back in a month and I’m horny.”

“Have ya’ll tried when the baby is sleeping?” Trin asked as I scoffed.

“Girl, it’s like Jackson has sex radar, oral is good but as soon as we are close to the deed he cries,” I said looking at our son who didn’t have a care in the world as he stuck his tiny fist in his mouth, happily babbling.

“Oh man, I know Roman is about to nut up…. No pun intended. Maybe if ya’ll skip the foreplay and just go for it you’ll have more luck,” Trin whispered as I cleared my throat seeing Roman heading our way.

“Ladies, ya’ll good?” he asked, giving me a chaste kiss on the lips before taking Jackson out of my arms.

“Yea, baby we’re fine. I told you earlier I had Jackson, I know you wanted to hang out with the guys.”

“No, you need a break Skyler, now you and Trin go by the pool and chill. I got the baby.”

“Roman, it’s ok I was about to feed him and try to get him to take a nap,” I said kissing his tiny head as he sneezed.

“Bless you lil man,” Trin smiled as he sneezed again. “I hope he’s not getting sick.”

“Baby, Dr. Morris said it’s his allergies. He’s fine, I’ll feed him. Now gon’ watch the sunset and get a little swim in,” Roman said leaving no room for argument as I gave him a kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, baby,” I whispered as he growled. “You’re welcome, just remember tonight, your mine,” he groaned as Trin blushed leaving us alone. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

I wished I had my husband’s positive outlook, but I knew we would probably end up how we did almost every night and that was with Jackson in the bed with us.

 I also knew even though we both were sexually frustrated, we wouldn’t have it any other way.

-----

Later that Night

Roman’s POV

“Damn, swallow dat dick,” I hissed gripping the back of Skylar’s head as she moaned, the vibration of her mouth around my dick. Damn, what that mouth can’t do, I’m already bout to nut.

Those bedroom eyes staring up innocently at me as she sped up her beautiful torture as I growled feeling my end near. “Mm, not yet,” I moaned as she smiled releasing me as I fought to catch my breath. “What you need Daddy?” she whispered trailing her tongue from my pelvis to my neck as I wrapped my arms around her.

Fuck, she was on it tonight.

“I need to cum in my pussy, it’s been too long Sky,” I rasped, our moans of pleasure filled the room as she rubs up against my dick. “Yes, and I want you so bad,” she purred as our lips met in a sloppy desperate kiss.

Yes, there is a God, and he loves me. Tonight is the motherfuckin’ night I reclaim my wife and I can’t wait, etching every second to memory.

Her delicate hands caressing my dick, as she slightly raised her hips. Her trembling her body following suit as she bit her lower lip, anxiously rubbed the head of my dick against her pussy.

 That hearty, needy groan that escaped her lips, as the tip slid through her slick moist folds had me feenin’.

“Fuck yea, pussy so wet Daddy just gon’ slip right on in. Go ahead and put it in baby,” I groaned anxiously trying not to lose control.

Then just as we were about to become one again, our son’s powerful wails could be heard on the baby monitor as we both sighed in frustration.

“This can’t be happening,” I whispered as Skylar caressed my face. “I got him, baby,” Skylar panted as I nodded, sitting up, sighing at the loss of her body against mine as she slipped on her robe and left the room.

“Damn son, I couldn’t even get the tip in…..Lil cockblocker,” I muttered instantly feeling like the biggest heel ever as I listened to Skylar on the baby monitor.

“Hey, lil man you hungry, mama’s got you. Let’s change you first,” she soothed as I found myself smiling hearing Jackson’s little coos. Getting out of bed I slipped on my pajama bottoms and went to join them in the nursery.

We were sufficient in setting up Jackson’s room with a bottle warmer and a mini fridge to keep Skylar’s breast milk in at night so we wouldn’t have to worry about going downstairs.

“I’ll get the bottle,” I said almost startling her as she smiled at me.

“Thanks, I’m going to miss all this help when you go back to work.”

“I’mma miss it too, but we’re going to make it work. I don’t care if we have to be on facetime all night.”

Skylar’s POV

I loved moments like this, just us being with our son and bonding. “You want daddy to feed you, Jackson?” I asked as he stretched his little arms and yawned.

“Come on buddy, let’s eat so we can go back to bed,” Roman said sitting down as I placed Jackson in his arms. I swear women across the world would melt if they could see this moment.

His voice soothing, and deep, as Jackson seemed entranced his father’s voice. It was like they were in their own little world.

“Yea, daddy’s got you son,” Roman whispered as I smiled.

“You’re a great dad,” I said as Roman shot me a tired smile before continuing to talk to Jackson.

“You know I got your mama too, which is why I am sending her to bed.”

“Roman, I’m fine,” I yawned as he chuckled. “See how she yawin’..She needs some rest, so we gon’ have us a little father, son time and send her to bed,” he said pointing towards our room. His eyes never leaving Jackson’s who seemed to be cooing in agreement.

“Roman-”

“Go to bed baby, I got him,” he reassured me as I sighed heading back to our room, but not before sneaking a second glance at my beautiful family.

I had a wonderful life that I knew I would never take for granted…Ever.

----

The next Day

“What did you say mama?” I asked not sure I heard her right.

“I said ya’ll doing it wrong Sklyar, I ain’t stutter,” my mother scolded holding Jackson as I poured her a cup of coffee.

“I suggested they drop the foreplay and go for the gusto mama,” Trin added as I rolled my eyes.

“I’m desperate ya’ll, I mean we just get so consumed with each other, and then boom! Jackson is screaming his head off, he even ended up in the room with us last night,” I said slamming the refrigerator door.

“Oouu sexual frustration has officially sunk in,” Trin whispered as I looked at her in confusion.

“Huh.”

“Morning, beautiful,” Roman said coming in the kitchen as I smiled at him. The pure hunger in his eyes as he pulled me into his arms not only made me weak in the knees but had me seconds away from dropping to my knees to worship him in front of Trin, Jackson, and my mother.

Our lips suddenly met in a demanding kiss. It was like we were the only two people in the room until I faintly heard my mother clearing her throat as Roman nipped at my bottom lip.

“Mm, later,” I whispered against his lips as he nodded finally releasing me from his grasp.

“Damn, I felt like I was intruding. That was really hot,” Trin said as I blushed.

“Sorry, I got carried away Ma, good morning,” Roman said coming over and giving my mom a hug and Jackson a kiss on the top of his head. “I guess I’m just invisible,” Trin teased as Roman chuckled, rushing over to hug her. “Sorry sis, good morning.”

“Yea…uh huh,” Trin joked as I snickered.

“You know I love you sis, don’t be like that,” Roman chuckled as she smiled. “I’m just teasin’ you…I get a kick out of it actually,” she said as he rolled his eyes.

“Ro, you got anything planned today?” I asked, trying to change the subject as he thought for a second. “I’m meeting the twins in a bit at the gym, then I’m free,” he said as I saw my mother smile.

“Well have fun baby,” I said as he smiled looking around reading the room.

“Ok, uh, I guess I will go shower and leave ya’ll to it. I know when I ain’t wanted,” he said nervously leaving the room as my mother laughed.

“Damn, he got outta dodge.”

“Hey, he can be dense at times, but I take pride in the fact I taught him how to read a room.”

“Don’t do my brother like that,” Trin laughed as I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’m serious, so tell me what ya’ll are thinking?” I asked truly curious because at this rate I’m about to have drive-by sex with my husband while they are here at this point.

“As new parents, it’s going to take some time to adjust Skylar. Like I told you to sleep when the baby sleeps, the same thing applies to sex. Get it in while you can.”

“Ma! Really...”

“What! I’m serious, get it in whenever and wherever you can. You are no longer on married with no kids time. You are on each second counts time and by the way he tongued you down just now, he’s reached his breaking point baby.”

“I almost just saw my first in person porno just now,” Trin said causing me to choke on my orange juice. “Oh, stop it, we weren’t that bad,” I said as my mother smiled.

“Sweetie, you gotta use your help too. That is what grandparents are for. I know I’ve been asking to keep the baby, and I know Roman’s parents have wanted to keep Jackson.”

“We didn’t want to burden ya’ll.”

“We love Jackson and want a chance to spoil him. Let us spoil him, that’s what grandparents do. We spoil them and then send them back home for ya’ll to deal with it,” my mother said shrugging her shoulders as I found it hard to not smile.

“Girl, you better let them be grandparents. Ya’ll need a break, and Jackson will enjoy it.”

“I know but-”

“It’s that new parents separation anxiety,” my mother said as I sighed knowing she was right. I was scared and so was Roman.

“Go pack my baby a bag, he’s staying the night with me and your dad tonight.”

“Mama, I-”

“Mama nothing, you both tired and need to get some rest. Go out to dinner, or just fuck like jackrabbits until I bring him back tomorrow morning it’s up to ya’ll.” 

“Mama!” Geez did she have to be so blunt. Like what kind of parent am I wanting to send my baby away so his daddy can fuck me into another galaxy.

“Stop overthinking it, you’re a great mom and Roman is a great dad.  Now finish your breakfast so you can go pack my baby a bag. I have a feeling you’re gonna need your strength,” she said looking in the direction Roman had went as I blushed.

“Yes, ma’am,” I whispered playing with my food. Everything would be ok. I know my mom will take good care of Jackson but it’s just going to be weird being without him.

I was brought out of my thoughts by Trin tapping me on the arm as my mother got up to fix her another cup of coffee.

“Girl, ya’ll first round gon be quick cause it’s been so long for since ya’ll have had sex.  After that…Ooou, I pitty you, cause it ain’t gon’ be no sleepin’ up in this house. Maybe Ma can keep Jackson an extra day 'cause I know you gon’ have problems walking tomorrow," Trin whispered so my mother couldn’t hear.

“Roman is never quick,” I whispered as she smirked. “I bet you today he will be, but don’t worry it ain’t gon take you long to get there either,” she snickered as I frowned.

“You so fuckin’ messy.”

“That’s why you love me so much, I keep it real.”

Roman’s POV

“You heard me, it’s been four months and I’m losing my shit.”

“Damn, no wonder you been heavy lifting in the gym lately. Sky been cleared for action but it ain’t been none,” Jimmy said as I rolled my eyes. “Shut the fuck up, I’m already frustrated enough,” I said talking to the twins on Facetime.

“Ya’ll gon’ have to learn to get that shit in Uce,” Jey said as frowned at him.

“What you talkin’ bout?”

“I’m talkin bout quickies, gettin’ it in everywhere, whether it’s the bed, bathroom, car, backstage, door, wall. Shit, it’s on site whenever you can, ain’t she on da shot?” Jey asked as I nodded.

“Man, get yo’ pussy, and I mean by any means necessary,” Jimmy said as Skylar stuck her head in the bedroom.

“Babe, mama wants to take Jackson for the night so we can get some rest. Are you ok with it?”

I was too stunned to speak; I mean is this really happening? “Answer her fool, why you just standin’ there lookin’ stupid,” Jimmy said as Sky leaned over into the camera.

 “Hey twins….Where have ya’ been?” Skylar sang waving to Jimmy and Jey.

“Hey Boosie!” they yelled waving as she smiled.

“So, what you think Roman?” Skylar asked again as I looked back at the twins who gave me a look. “Uh, sure we need to start letting Jackson go and spend time with his grandparents. We know he’s in good hands.”

“Ok, I just wanted to run it by you before I just did it,” Skylar said blowing me a kiss and leaving the room.

“Uce, we already know you ain’t making it to the gym. Gone handle yo’ business,” Jey said as Jimmy shook his head.

“Poor Boosie ain’t gon’ know what hit her.”

“Shut up Jimmy and get off the damn phone so we can head to the gym.”

“A’ight twins, I’ll hit ya’ll back tomorrow.” Ending the call, I felt nervous…Why am I nervous?

I was nervous about Jackson being away from us, but I knew deep down he would be fine. We needed this…Mama and daddy need some alone time to rest and to just be Roman and Skylar again.

Skylar’s POV

I felt a piece of my heart leave as they pulled out of the driveway. I missed Jackson already, but Trin and mom reassured me and that put me at ease.

He would be ok, but it was still scary. Sighing, I closed the door. “He will be fine Sky, relax,” I whispered to myself, turning and colliding with Roman’s naked body as I gasped in shock.

“Ba-”

The words dying on my lips as our lips meet in a demanding passionate kiss. “Can’t wait,” Roman groans against my lips, clawing at my robe as I racked my nails down his back. “I can’t either,” I moan anxiously as he scoops me up in his arms.

“Mm, bed,” I gasp as he growls. “Right here…Fuck, right now,” he moans entering me swiftly catching me off guard as I cried out at the sudden intrusion.

I felt like he was splitting me in two as he growled against my neck. "I'm sorry baby," he moans stilling his hips tryin' to give me a second to adjust as I slowly began swirling my hips against him.

“Mmm, I missed you,” I cried against his lips as he hissed. “Missed you more, fuck, you so tight.”

I could sense the struggle in him to not lose control, but I wanted him to.

Remembering Trin’s words, I decided to assure him it was ok. “Stop holding back, I want you to cum Daddy, you deserve it,” I whispered

“Fuck…… I don’t want to, not yet,” he rasped as I locked my legs around him beginning to bounce as Roman held me close.

“We got all night, just cum baby,” I whispered in his ear as my words seemed to ignite a fire in him as he gripped my legs, pinning me against the wall beginning to thrust with wild abandon.

“Shit! Yes, take your pussy daddy!” I screamed, my orgasm sneaking up on me as Roman grasped my throat, taking me in a scorching kiss

“Mmm, I am and I’mma make sure my queen cums first,” he groaned carrying me over to the couch.

I could only explain it as pure excitement following through my veins as I pulled Roman closer, our bodies becoming even more entangled as we gave in to our desires.

Our desperate, passionate kisses, making lightheaded as his thrusts became even more strategic. The power of them startling us both as we fell back onto the couch.

“Roman!” I exclaimed at the new deeper position as he smirked in victory against my lips. “Uh huh, acknowledge daddy, baby. I’mma  make you feel real good.”

“Ooouu fuck!” I gasped unable to think, my mind straight gone.

 “Sky, give daddy what he wants, let me hear you,” he gloated slamming into me as my cries filled the room.

“Mmhm, I acknowledge you, Daddy,” I whined clawing at his ass pulling him in even deeper. “Fuck yea… Such a good girl, just takin’ all daddy’s dick.”

“Yes! Mmm, I missed you so much!” I cried unashamed as my pussy welcomed him, gripping him tighter and tighter trying to indeed snatch his soul.

“Fuck!” Roman hissed as I felt him tremble against me as I greedily feasted upon his neck, leaving my mark.

“Mmhm, I missed you more. Yea…. Grip dat dick like you missed it.”

 His voice…His words.. Shit, if I could give this man another baby right fucking now, I would.

“Roman, please,” I begged knowing the end was near, I couldn’t hold out much longer.

“Take it like a good girl, mama.”

“I’m your good girl!” I cried out in pleasure. “So fuckin good, gon’ cum, Sky. Daddy wants you to soak his dick and this couch, you hear me?”

The request sending chills down my spine as I fell over the edge needing no more encouragement.

“I’m cummin’!” I cried as Roman tried to still my hips. “Sky…Shit,” Roman rasped as I pulsed around him forcing him to accept his fate and with a final growl, he fell over the edge releasing four months of frustration as I welcomed him.

Shit, that was intense as hell.  “I love you so much;” I moaned trying to catch my breath as Roman smiled, his eyes still glazed over.

“I love you too, and I’mma make it up to you,” Roman whispered gently grazing his lips across mine as I sighed.

“What are you sorry for baby?” I gasped as his lips were now burning a blazing hot trail across my neck. “You felt so good, I came too quick but I’mma take my time this go round,” he whispered caressing my thighs, wrapping them back around his waist.

“Roman, it’s ok.. Trust me, I was thoroughly satisfied.”  I said, trying to put his mind at ease as we continued to come down from our high.

 “Sky, you know how I get down; my beautiful wife has to cum at least three times before I do,” he declared still feasting upon my neck as I gasped feeling him getting hard again.

“Roman! Already,” I moaned, immediately surrendering to him once again as he began thrusting, torturous slow and deep inside me.

“Mmhm, cause my baby needs to cum at least three more times before we take a cat nap.” His voice was raspy and deep against my ear as a shiver shot down my spine.

“Three!”

“Mmhm, the first time didn’t count, and I’m just getting started,” he whispered as we began climbing the mountain of ecstasy once again.

Yea….Maybe I will call Ma, and ask her to keep Jackson for an extra night.

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[myslutwritings]

Hi! :D Can I request headcanons on the upper moon demons (1,2,3+ Muzan) reactions to finding out their fem s/o is suffering from depression? (Especially after she’s tried to hide it from them and everyone else, not once admitting to having it - frankly because she feels as if they wouldn’t care or take her seriously anyway (due to past experiences with her own family and friends), until she couldn’t keep up the facade of acting cheerful, laid back and positive all the time, it being obvious that there is something quite not right with her, even if she denies it, trying to downplay the situation, knowing full well herself that it’s getting bad).

(Aaaaaaa, I love ur headcanons 😭💓 I’m sorry if this topic is not something you’d be comfortable with writing for, it’s just something I’ve been experiencing myself lately for the past couple of months, it’s getting harder each day, kinda have been feeling empty, exhausted and genuinely depressed lately, no one that I know cares or takes me seriously, nor tries to help me overcome these emotions :), I appreciate you reading my request anyway!<3 sorry for kinda pouring my heart out, ik it’s cringe and unnecessary, sorry).

No, no! it’s completely okay. I suffer from depression myself so i’m comfortable writing for topics like these! I honestly love writing angst/hurt/+comfort so ya!! Thank you for requesting, anon!! (Also i’m happy you like my headcanons! Tysm for your kind words. I do hope you feel better and i hope these hc’s can cheer you up!)

➤ Uppermoons with a Fem!S/O who suffers from Depression

➤ SFW headcanons

including: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma and Akaza.

•

•

•

warnings: non-canon reactions, mentions of suicidal thoughts, angst, etc.

Muzan

Muzan isn’t an idiot.

He can sense from a mile away that something is in fact wrong.

I mean, you always seem off.

He just cannot tell WHAT exactly is wrong.

You’re a strange one after all. (Not in a bad way obviously)

Muzan has asked you a dozen times prior, seeking out answers, at least an explanation for your change in behavior and emotions.

He dislikes change.

But wanna know what he dislikes more? You being upset.

“My dear, could you please tell me what’s wrong?”

Of course he never gets anything out of you. You just cast him that alluring yet suspicious fake smile of yours and reassure him that you’re “okay” or “fine” or even “couldn’t be better”

Your response are so.. dishonest.

Honestly, Muzan not knowing what exactly is wrong with you drives him wild. He ALWAYS wants to know what’s wrong, what you’re feeling, how you’re feeling, etc.

And whenever he isn’t aware of what exactly your feeling or is catching on to the suspicions that your lying it does in fact anger him.

Not only does it anger him but it upsets him incredibly. Like, do you not trust him? Are you scared of him because he’s the demon king? If you were secretly terrified of his existence he wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. That’s how truly humans are after all.

But for you this isn’t the case. You aren’t even scared of him. Just scared of your own thoughts and feelings.

A part of you wishes you could open up but the other part of you is like: eh, fuck it.

Who could blame you for not wanting to open up to the demon king himself though?

You may be his girlfriend, but still, like he would actually bring himself to care.

You see how vicious he is towards other humans. So why would he even bother with your silly yet powerful emotions?

You desired to open up yourself but however that never came so Muzan had no choice but to force it out of you one day.

Toxic, sure. But you were driving him nuts!

Like he snapped when he came home one night to find you rotting in your own filth, an empty stomach, disheveled hair, god, have you been sleeping all day?

He will ask you ONCE again if you wanted to talk.

To which you respond with a sorrowful “no”

Then you for real have the gull to make up excuses saying you’ve fallen ill.

Yeah, right.

That is Muzan’s breaking point.

It startles you when he snaps at you and actually gets mad.

This is his way of caring everybody. 💀

Whenever you’re depressed the feeling of getting yelled at by someone you love can hurt you or make you feel numb on the inside, you know?

I’m this case, it all just caves in and you sorta have an emotional break down in front of him.

Muzan is at a loss for words as you spill out your deepest and darkest feelings.

At least you’re finally opening up.

But damn, bro is shocked. Please give him a minute to adjust to all this.

At first he doesn’t know how to respond, instead, he will respond physically and just let you cry in his embrace as you vent to him and babble “i’m sorry” literally over 1000 times.

Muzan knew humans had depression, he reads a lot and is well aware of what it is. He’s just distraught this his own partner felt this way for so long.

By the way, did i mention he’s going to kill anyone who’s ever wronged you?

But worry not! He is going to be there for you every step of the way even with his low tolerance:)

Kokushibo

In the beginning, Kokushibo has absolutely no clue what’s going on inside your head.

I mean, if you say you’re fine then you’re fine right?

That’s all until your seemingly bad mood increases more and more everyday.

Yeah, that’s when his suspicions SKYROCKET.

Kokushibo has asked you before but gave up on it after many failed attempts.

He still has his mild concerns though so instead he observes you from afar.

He can tell something if off but assumes that just because you’re a human.

Honestly, he had some suspicions here and there that you may or may not be dealing with severe depression.

Guess what? Those thoughts he had were correct.

You immediately assume he doesn’t care and won’t care due to his demonic nature and his expressionless behavior.

Kokushibo began to catch on more and more when you started to refuse to eat dinner, you just refused to get up from bed and even take care of yourself.

FINALLY drops that stoic personality.

Caretaker Kokushibo to the rescue. Is immediately scooping you up, siting you at the table and convincing you to eat.

If you don’t eat he’ll just spoon feed you.

That night he took care of you.

That’s when he found out of your depressed state. No confession needed.

The two of you aren’t the greatest match because of your lacked communication.

No, you two aren’t toxic. Fights don’t even exist between y’all.

You guys just can’t express feelings properly.

But Kokushibo is always waiting for you to further explain how you feel. He’s satisfied that he now is aware of what’s wrong with you but also deeply destroyed on the inside.

You don’t deserve these harsh feelings. Why must the world be so cruel?

From that day onwards, Koku keeps a close eye on you and takes care of you more often.

Sometimes even ditches missions for you.

Yeah, he gets chastised by Muzan for it but he doesn’t care.

As long as you’re safe then he feels content.

By the way he’s killing off ANYONE who made you feel this way.

Douma

very, VERY dense.

Like does not notice anything.

He just presumed that’s how you are.

Now, Douma does feel emotions around you. You’re the only thing that has ever brought him joy.

You make that cold heart of his beat.

He’s very clingy around you, like, SUPER.

Wants to be around you all the time.

Which is why it’s a shocker that he didn’t notice immediately your drastic change in behavior.

Douma only really took notice when you began to distance yourself from everyone.

Even him.

Now he couldn’t care less if you ran away from everyone else but him? Yeah, there is something wrong.

So, he simply asks you if you’re okay.

In which you lie and say you’re doing just fine.

Oh, you are? Okay!!

Is immensely confused when you continue to distance yourself though.

Haha, humans are so silly.

Douma becomes really confused but brushes it off.

It’s all surprising that he can come off so dense when it comes to this. I mean, you’re a demon? come on mannn…

Yeah, he does feel emotions around you but doesn’t fully understand them, you know?

I swear, Douma can be naive around you sometimes despite being the sadistic and masochistic demon he is.

It takes him a long ass time to realize how much you’ve been suffering.

Please do not get angry with him though. Remember that he is new to all this!

So the first emotion he feels once he finds out about your depression is EXTREME guilt.

REAL GUILT.

Flabbergasted by how fucking long it took him to find out the truth.

*Mentally facepalms himself*

His petty little followers don’t count. The man may have spend his last few hundred years listening to peoples woes and worries but his emotional responses towards their feelings were never even genuine.

To be brutally honest, Douma is hopeless.

Yeah, he wants to help you, he really does.

Just has no idea how to:(

However, if you show him how to then he will catch on fairly quickly and become the master when it comes to taking care of you and helping you cope with your depression.

Similar to Kokushibo, Cue caretaker Douma to the rescue‼️‼️

He doesn’t mind taking care of you. Honestly he absolutely adores it.

You’ve always been there for him, you taught him how to feel again. He’s so grateful that he’s finally helping you after all this time.

Lends you extra cuddles and kisses but if you’re the type to want your space when you’re depressed he’ll try his hardest to understand and be there for you emotionally instead! He just wants to be over you all the time and make sure you’re doing well, ya know?

Okay, he may lose his touching privileges but don’t think he isn’t gonna let his guard down!

From there on out, He keeps an eye on you at all times. He needs to make sure your taking care of yourself!

Douma also developed the tendency to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, his advice is surprisingly effective by the way. I mean, his advice towards you is actually genuine so that must be why.

“Oh, Y/N, my lovely lotus, i despise how you carry such a heavy burden. I wish i could take all these negative feelings away from you!”

Akaza

Like Muzan, he isn’t easy to take for a fool.

Notices the very second your behavior changes.

Akaza, being the most amazing boyfriend he is will obviously attempt to strike up a conversation, desperately wanting you to open up and communicate with him properly.

Becomes disappointed when you just brush it off as “not important”

Like what? It IS important!

YOU are MORE than important to him.

Akaza is not blind, he won’t submit nor play dumb towards your responses

Absolutely hates making you uncomfortable and would hate to force you to tell him how you’re feeling but desperate times call for desperate measures.

This is just his way for caring about you.

At first, he will try each and every day to be there for you and try and talk with you.

Sits on the side of your bed as your laying down, curled up, unmoving and will just kiss your forehead and give you time to open up.

Akaza will bug you consistently, fishing a response from you, anything, just anything!!

“Sweetheart, could you tell me what’s going on with you?”

Nothing. Just that same old response he hears every damn time.

“I’m fine”, “Nothing is wrong!”, “It’s okay, i’m doing well, just tired.”

Hatessssss when you lie to him:(

Akaza feels beyond powerless.

Your feelings are very important to him!

Sure, he hates weak people, hates any other human being he encounters but you’re different!

Akaza knows deep down you’re suffering from depression but desires for you to confess it yourself in your own time.

But at the end of the day he had to force it out of you.

Felt insanely guilt but what else could he have done?

Everything else he’s ever done for you got him nowhere due to your own stubborn dds

Akaza is not mad though.

He could never be angry with you for having depression i mean, you can’t help it.

We all know how overwhelmingly overprotective he is so the very moment he finds out a friend of family member caused you to feel this way and shut the world out he is going to throw hands.

Like, how dare they?!

Akaza is another caretaker! Skips important missions for your sake despite him knowing the punishments that come along with it.

Akaza won’t mind taking care of you but he also needs you to learn how to take care of yourself if you want to truly heal so he’ll be there for you every single step of the way in order for you to accomplish that!

Another thing that’ll happen is that Akaza will become more needy and clingy than usual. He must protest his precious girlfriend at all costs.

Kisses you and reminds you how much he loves you.

Fucking HATES it when he’s forced to leave you (when he’s summoned to the infinity castle)

But the very second he’s home he’s relieved.

On those days you’re feeling super depressed to the point where you can’t get up Akaza will cool you breakfast and serve it to you in bed. Will even feed you if he has to then eventually he’ll help you get up and offer you all the motivation and energy you need to make it throughout the day.

Bro is a gentleman.

Literally is always going to be there for you, love you unconditionally.

And most importantly…

Beat the living HELL out of whoever worsened your depression‼️‼️

I hope you enjoyed these headcanons! To all those out there suffering currently i can promise you that it’s going to be okay. You got this! <3

[curiositymemes]

WHITE CHRISTMAS SENTENCE STARTERS.

taken from the 1954 film. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

“what��s this all about, name?” 

“you know that and i know that, but name doesn’t know that. at least he won’t for about an hour and a half.”

“well, that just about wraps it up, fellas.”

“certainly too bad name couldn’t be here for this little yuletide clambake.” 

“we really had a slam-bang finish cooked up for him.”

“that’s not a very nice christmas present, is it?”

“i don’t want you to forget it, not that he’ll let you.”

“don’t just stand there. how do i get off?”

“it’s just my arm.” 

“it looks bad.” / “nothin’ but a scratch.”

“i’ve kinda written a little song, see…”

“i just happen to have it right here.” 

“he’s got a fair voice, he’s pretty funny in living rooms…”

“i wouldn’t want you to feel any special obligation…”

“okay, dynamite, let’s give it a whirl.” 

“mutual, i’m sure.”

“nicest christmas present anybody ever had.”

“i thought before the train ride we’d grab a bite to eat and have a few laughs?” 

“believe me, it’s for your own good.” 

“let’s face it, name, you’re a lonely, miserable man. and you’re unhappy, too.” 

“you look at me with those great big cow eyes of yours and i’d melt and go along with it.” 

“you’re off your nut about a mile and a half!”

“sure, it was my idea, but i didn’t think i was creating frankenstein!” 

“i never thought i’d hear you open up like that, name.” 

“let’s just say we’re doin’ it for a pal in the army.”

“it’s not good, but it’s a reason.” 

“just like honesty needs a little plus, fate needs a little push.” 

“there, that’s cozy, isn’t it?”

“that’s quite an act you two kids have there.”

“he always was a good-looking kid.” 

“let’s say it with music, huh?” 

“now, promise me you won’t say anything important til i get back, huh?” 

“everybody’s got an angle.”

“hey, if this keeps up, we’ll practically be in-laws before the dance is over.” 

“vermont should be beautiful this time of year. all that snow.” 

“it’s no trouble, honey.” 

“we like to take care of our friends.”

“are you kiddin’? pay off a chiseling rat like that?” 

“don’t stop for anything.”

“i got a feelin’ i’m not gonna like this.” / “i got a feelin’ you’re gonna hate it.” 

“either you have tickets or you haven’t tickets.” 

“oh, no, you wouldn’t do this to me.”

“used to be a grist mill and a barn, now it’s a tyrolean haunted house.” 

“i don’t know what he’s up to but he’s got that rogers and hammerstein look again.”  

“how much is wow?” / “right in between ouch and poing.” 

“tell me what you wanna dream about and i’ll know what to give you.” 

“it’s kinda dangerous, puttin’ those knights up on white horses. likely to slip off.” 

“you ever hook up with the fellas in the horseshoe game?”

“read it, son. slowly.” 

“you always were a lucky stiff.”

“never kid a kidder, son.” 

“i think it’s impossible, ridiculous, and insane. i wish i thought of it first.”

“stick your nose in other people’s business and eventually you’ll find out things you wish you hadn’t.” 

“i’d rather not discuss last night, thank you very much.”

“last night she can’t sleep. today she won’t eat. she’s in love.”

“if that’s love, somebody goofed.” 

“well you’re not exactly superman, but you’re awfully available.” 

“i’m more the ‘i don’t mind shoving my best friend into it but i’m scared stiff every time i get close to it myself’-ing kind.” 

“i feel the same way about my cocker spaniel.” 

“don't you think we oughta kiss or something?” 

“you realize you’re getting the best girl in the whole wide world?” 

“after you get to know him, he’s almost endurable.”

“you know, in some ways, you’re far superior to my cocker spaniel.” 

“you don’t have to feel responsible for me anymore.”

“i can’t help feeling this is a tactical error.”

“if i said anything, i didn’t mean it.”

“i was so busy with other things i must’ve sounded like an idiot.”

“how could you be stupid enough to try and pull a stunt like this?”

“you should consider yourself pretty lucky. you could’ve been stuck with this weirdsmobile for life.”  

“when it comes to conniving and finagling, you can’t beat this boy.”

“if i wasn’t such a mean ol’ biddy i’d break right down and cry.” 

“i never saw anything look so wonderful in my whole life.”

“we may get snowed in here!”

[venactricisfics]

Bucking Tradition

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Mornin’,” I groaned as Ryan slid out from under me in his bunk. I stretched, already missing his warmth. “Time to get up already?”

He chuckled, buttoning his jeans. “We could’ve stayed in your bed last night—then you wouldn’t have to wake up so early.”

“And let you sneak out at the crack of dawn?” I smirked, propping myself up on my elbow. “Not a chance. I like watching you get ready.” My eyes trailed down his body as he tucked in his shirt and buckled his belt. I gestured toward him with a lazy wave of my hand. “All of that is fun to watch.”

Ryan grinned, eyes twinkling. “Glad you like what you see, baby. We can sleep wherever you want.”

I reached for him, ready to pull him back into bed. “I love you—” I paused, wrinkling my nose. “But first, I need to brush my teeth.”

Ryan just smirked, shaking his head. “Come find me after, sweetheart.”

I stretched as I climbed out of bed, weaving through the bunkhouse as the guys got ready for the day. Teeter shimmied into her jeans, Mia stretched out lazily on Jimmy’s bunk, and in the corner, Laramie was still curled up in Lloyd’s double bed.

“Don’t get up,” Lloyd murmured, tucking the blankets around her. “Stay as long as you want.”

“Hey, baby,” Teeter drawled, shooting me a grin. “I wish some bronc would break my back so I could lay around in bed all day bumpin’ fuckin’ uglies till noon.” She cut a sly look toward Colby. “Don’t that sound nice?”

Ryan chuckled as he buttoned his shirt. “Just a matter of time.”

Shaking my head, I made my way to the bathroom, pushing the door open. Teeter followed close behind.

“I think you’re starting to wear him down,” I teased, smirking at her in the mirror as I brushed my teeth.

“Inch by fuckin’ inch,” she smirked right back. “He’s a hard nut to crack. But I’m patient.”

Ryan was waiting by the door when I stepped out of the bathroom.

“Hey, you,” I murmured, rising onto my toes to kiss him.

He grinned against my lips. “Minty.”

I rolled my eyes as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I gotta head out—Kayce called,” he said. “Think you can keep this bunch outta trouble while I’m gone?”

“No promises,” I smirked, arching a brow. “Be careful.” Livestock Agent work. Never a dull moment.

“I always am, baby.” He leaned in, brushing his lips over mine again, lingering just a little longer this time. “Needed one for the road.”

I watched as he walked away, shaking my head with a smirk. Damn, I was a lucky woman.

For the first time in a long while, the bunkhouse was quiet. The guys were off doing something, and Jimmy and Rip were taking a rank son of a bitch out to see if Sid Syner’s boy could buck the rodeo out of him.

I took advantage of the rare stillness, pouring myself a cup of coffee before settling at the table with my laptop. Last night’s ride with the girls had reminded me of something—I missed performing. Putting on a real show. And I wanted to try something different.

I wasn’t planning on jumping through fire or anything reckless. But Roman riding? That had my attention.

I knew Denim well enough to know he wouldn’t take kindly to working with another horse by his side. For this to work, I needed two horses that moved in sync—with each other and with me.

I needed two horses with Denim’s style but none of his sass. There was only one man who could find exactly what I was looking for—though he’d try to swindle me in the process. I picked up my phone, already bracing myself for the conversation.

“Well, girl, I was expectin’ your call a long time ago,” Travis drawled the moment he answered. “You know you still got a place with my crew.”

“Yeah, I know. But that’s not why I’m callin’,” I said, cutting straight to the point. “I need a pair of horses. Not one of your five-million-dollar beasts, either. They’ve gotta be able to work together.”

I could practically hear the dollar signs ringing in his head.

“I’ll see what I can come up with,” he said smoothly. “How soon you wanna see ‘em?”

“I’m in no rush. Next time you’re up this way,” I told him, leaning back in my chair. “I’m gonna see about workin’ with some of the ranch horses first. Might not even need you.”

Travis let out a knowing chuckle. “Oh, you need me, Alex. In more ways than one.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not for that, I don’t.”

“Right, right. Forgot—you’re in love.” His voice was all tease, but there was a hint of something else beneath it. “I’ll call if I find a pair worth your time.”

“Appreciate it, Travis.” I ended the call before he could get another smart-ass remark in.

—-------------------------------------

“Sweetheart,” Dad said as we pulled into the diner’s parking lot, “I’m surprised you wanted to come with me.”

I shrugged, a small smile tugging at my lips. “We used to come here all the time after Beth and Jamie went off to school. Guess I’m feeling nostalgic.” Then, lowering my voice, I added, “And they have the best chicken-fried steak.”

Dad chuckled as he put the truck in park. “Don’t let Gator hear you say that.”

I smirked. “Secret’s safe with me.”

We stepped inside, the familiar scent of coffee and fried food wrapping around us like a warm memory. Without thinking, I slid onto the same barstool I used to sit on as a little girl. Dad took his usual seat beside me, just like he always had.

“Doc letting you eat steak again?” the waitress, Maggie, asked.

“Yep, I got a clean bill of health,” Dad told her. “I can eat whatever the hell I want.” 

“You still like it rare?” she asked.

“Yep, just pull it out of the cooler, whisper fire, and throw it on my plate,” he answered.

“What’ll you have, Alex?” she gave me a smile.

“I’ll have the steak too, just battered and fried and covered with a ton of gravy, please,” I almost missed being able to swing my legs freely on the stool. 

Maggie chuckled as she jotted down our orders. “Some things never change.”

Dad smirked. “Why mess with a good thing?”

I leaned my elbows on the counter, glancing around the diner. It still looked the same—checkered floors, faded menus above the grill, and the comforting hum of morning conversations. It felt like stepping back in time.

“You’re looking good, John,” Maggie said as she poured Dad a cup of coffee. “Retirement must be treating you well.”

Dad scoffed. “Retirement?” He shook his head. “Don’t use bad words at the breakfast table, Maggie.”

She laughed. “Figured as much. You’d shrivel up and die if you weren’t running that ranch.” She turned to me with a wink. “And you? Still giving these boys a run for their money?”

I smirked, reaching for the sugar. “Always.”

I turned at the sound of the bell above the diner door, my stomach sinking. Breakfast with my father was about to take a sudden nosedive. Clint and Wade Marrow strode inside like they owned the place. Dad saw them too. His jaw tightened as he stirred his coffee, his movements slow and deliberate.

I felt Clint’s eyes on me before he even spoke. He slid onto the stool beside mine, wearing that same cocky, shit-eating grin. Wade took the seat on the other side of my father, boxing us in.

“Mornin’, Alex,” Clint drawled, leaning in just enough to make my skin crawl.

I glared at him. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Than make you squirm?” His breath was hot against my ear. “I know how you squirm.”

Dad set his cup down with a quiet clink against the saucer. “I don’t believe in coincidences,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “One thing you ain’t is stupid. So for you to set foot in this state again, much less work the land beside mine, tells me one of two things. Either you got a death wish, or your boyfriend in prison fucked all the common sense right outta you.”

Clint shot up from his seat, ready to square off. He grabbed Dad’s shoulder, a mistake he didn’t get the chance to regret.

I was done playing nice. I snatched the water glass off the table and smashed it right into Clint’s face. He reared back with a furious snarl, fist drawn, but before he could swing, my father’s punch sent him crashing onto the diner floor.

Dad stood over Clint’s crumpled form, watching as he groaned on the diner floor. “Nice to see you had a child who lived, Wade,” he said, his tone cold as steel. “Though he sure drew the short straw with you for a father. I gave you a job, a place to call home, and you stole the one thing a cowboy never fucking steals. And now you’re here—and you ain’t stupid.”

Wade met his stare without flinching. “I’m here ‘cause I was hired to be here, and you can not like that all you want,” he replied. “Hell, that’s probably the reason they hired me in the first place. But any time you feel like wrestling a bear instead of a cub, pick the barn, John.” He leaned down, gripping Clint’s arm and hauling him off the floor.

Clint wiped at his bloody nose, then turned his eyes on me. A smirk tugged at his lips. “I guess you like it rough now, huh?”

My hands clenched into fists at my sides. “Go crawl back in the hole you slithered out of,” I snapped.

Dad’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Wade,” he said, locking eyes with him, “you have something that belongs to me.”

Wade didn’t so much as blink. “Come and get it.”

Dad gave a slow nod. “I plan to.”

Without another word, Wade and Clint turned and stomped out of the diner, the door slamming shut behind them.

I let out a slow breath, forcing my shoulders to relax. Then I sat back down and picked up my fork.

“Might as well finish my breakfast.”

—--------------

My phone rang just as we pulled through the gates of the Yellowstone.

Kayce.

Why was he calling in the middle of the day?

I hesitated on the porch as Dad stepped inside, swiping to answer.

“Hello?”

“Alex, meet us at the hospital,” he said.

My stomach dropped.

“What happened?” My voice shook.

“Ryan was shot,” Kayce said. “He had his vest on, but EMS is taking him in to get checked out.”

“I’m on my way.”

I couldn’t think—I just moved. I shoved through the door, grabbing my keys, but my truck was blocked in.

“Dad, give me your keys. I need to go now.”

He turned at the urgency in my voice, eyes scanning my face, my shaking hands.

“Sweetheart,” he said, calm but firm, “what happened?”

I could barely get the words out. “They shot him. They shot Ryan.”

Dad's expression hardened. “You don’t need to drive, honey. I’ll take you.”

I didn’t argue. There wasn’t time.

The drive to Bozeman stretched endlessly, every mile heavier than the last. My leg bounced restlessly, my fingers gripping my phone so tight my knuckles turned white.

“He was wearing his vest,” Dad said, like that was supposed to make me feel better.

“I know.”

But it didn’t stop the panic clawing up my throat.

We pulled into the hospital parking lot, and before Dad could even throw the truck into park, I had the door open, jumping out.

“Alex—” Dad called after me, but I didn’t stop. I bolted through the sliding glass doors, scanning the waiting area until I spotted Kayce.

His face was tense, his arms crossed over his chest, but he wasn’t panicking. That had to be a good sign, right?

“Where is he?” I demanded, barely able to catch my breath.

Kayce stepped toward me, hands up like he was ready to stop me from barging through the hospital. “They’re checking him out now,” he said. “He’s awake, talking, just bruised up pretty bad.”

I exhaled sharply, my body still trembling from the adrenaline.

“He asked for you,” Kayce added, giving me a small nod toward the hallway.

I didn’t wait. I pushed past him, weaving through the corridors until I found the room number. My fingers hovered over the handle for half a second before I forced myself to push it open.

Ryan was sitting on the hospital bed, his shirt off, a deep bruise already blooming across his ribs where the vest had taken the hit. He glanced up as I walked in, his lips twitching into a tired smirk.

“Hey, baby,” he drawled. “You should see the other guy.”

“You fucking scared the shit outta me,” I felt the tension start to leave my body as I sat on the foot of his bed. I took his hand in mine as I scanned him over, checking for any other injuries. 

“I’ll be fine, baby,” he gave my hand a squeeze, “hurt like hell but I’m ok.”

I exhaled shakily, my fingers tracing over his knuckles. “You don’t look okay,” I muttered, my eyes still scanning him, as if I’d find some hidden wound the doctors had missed. The sight of that deepening bruise on his ribs made my stomach twist.

Ryan chuckled softly, then winced. “Hurts to laugh,” he admitted. “Vest took the worst of it, but I’ll be sore as hell for a while.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and met his eyes. “Who did this?”

His expression darkened slightly. “Cattle thief,” he said. “Didn’t like us asking questions, took a shot through a fucking wall.”

I shook my head, my jaw tightening. “Bastard’s lucky it wasn’t worse.”

Ryan gave my hand another squeeze, his thumb brushing against my skin. “Hey,” he said softly. “I’m still here.”

I closed my eyes for a second, grounding myself in the warmth of his touch. When I opened them again, I shifted closer, leaning in just enough to press my forehead against his.

“You ever scare me like that again,” I murmured, “and I swear to God, Ryan, I’ll be the one kicking your ass.”

His lips twitched up into a grin. “Noted, baby.”

The doctor came in his face unreadable. “Just bruised. Not broken,” he looked over at me, “You the girlfriend?” 

“I am,” I don’t think I’d ever been referred to as that before but it fit. 

“Make sure he takes it easy for a few days,” the doctor said. “If you’re ready the nurse will bring your discharge papers in.” 

I nodded, squeezing Ryan’s hand once more before the doctor turned to leave. I watched him go, the weight of everything still settling in my chest.

Ryan shifted, sitting up a bit straighter, his face contorting with the effort. “I’ll be fine. Don’t make it worse by hovering,” he said with that familiar teasing tone, though I could hear the exhaustion beneath it.

I gave him a soft, tired smile. “I’ll hover all I want. You got shot, Ryan. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a minute.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, leaning back against the pillows with a resigned sigh.

The nurse came in shortly after with the discharge papers, her smile friendly but brief. “You’re free to go,” she said, handing the paperwork to me.

I signed without hesitation, my focus entirely on Ryan as I helped him sit up a little more.

He looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “You know, you’re making this look like you’re the one that got shot. All this concern’s starting to make me feel guilty.”

I smirked, tucking the papers into my bag. “Good. You should feel guilty.” I stood, offering him a hand. “Now, let’s get you out of here. The sooner you’re home, the sooner I can actually make sure you’re okay.”

Ryan smiled, taking my hand, though his movements were slow. “As long as it means I get some rest and a little more of that hovering.”

I held his hand as we walked down the hospital hall. Kayce was still in the waiting room. 

“Told Dad to head back home,” Kayce said, “Y’all ready?” I saw the looks they shot to each other. There was more to the story they didn’t want me to know. 

“Kayce, just tell me what happened and quit trying to sugarcoat it,” I said as we walked out to his truck. 

“If your brother hadn’t told me to move,” Ryan answered, “it would have been a lot worse.”

I felt my stomach drop at Ryan’s words, his tone heavy with the weight of whatever had happened.

Kayce sighed, glancing over at Ryan before looking back at me. “It was close, Alex. Real close. We’re still piecing together everything that went down, but I don’t want you to worry too much.”

I shot a look at both of them, my hand tightening around Ryan’s as we got into the truck. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” I asked, trying to keep the worry out of my voice but failing miserably.

Kayce’s jaw clenched. “We didn’t want you freaking out.”

Ryan let out a low laugh, though it was more strained than usual. “Freaking out? She’s already there, Kayce.”

I was silent for a moment, the weight of the situation finally settling in as I processed what they were telling me. I couldn’t shake the image of Ryan getting hurt, of what might have happened if he hadn’t listened to Kayce.

“Next time, don’t leave out the details,” I finally said, my voice tight. “I can handle it. But don’t keep me in the dark. Not again.”

Ryan gave my hand a gentle squeeze, the quiet apology in his eyes enough to ease some of the tension in my chest. “I’m sorry, Alex. We just didn’t want to add to the stress.”

Kayce stayed quiet, the weight of my words lingering in the truck as we made our way home.

“The guy who did this,” I looked at Kayce, “what happened to him?”

Kayce’s voice was quiet, “I killed him.”

I wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved at the sound of his voice. Kayce had killed people who had deserved it more time than I knew about but each one chipped at his soul. 

“You did what you had to do, Kayce,” I told him. I knew he wouldn’t believe me. 

—--

“You are not staying in the bunkhouse tonight,” I told Ryan as I helped him down from Kayce’s truck. 

“Why not?” Kayce asked giving me a slight grin, “Y’all don’t do much sleepin’ when he stays here.”

“When did you become so funny Kayce?” I wrinkled my nose at him. 

“I’ve always been funny,” he responded.

“Funny looking,” I shot back. 

“Then so are you 'cause you look just like me,” he chuckled. 

“I’m much better looking than you,” I said. 

Ryan chuckled softly, leaning into me for support as we made our way toward the house. “You two are a real piece of work,” he said with a grin, clearly amused despite everything.

Kayce raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep it interesting around here.”

I shot him a playful glare. “I’m serious, though. You’re staying in my bed tonight. You’re not going back to the bunkhouse and risking pushing yourself too hard.”

Ryan sighed, but he didn’t argue, his tired eyes showing he was too worn out for another fight. “Fine, fine. But only because I know you’re not gonna let me hear the end of it.”

“Damn straight,” I said with a smirk as I opened the door. “Get comfortable, I’m getting you settled. Kayce, stop making me laugh so hard. I’m trying to focus.”

Kayce raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Hey, don’t blame me. Blame your own sense of humor.”

Ryan shook his head, a small laugh escaping him as we walked into the house. “I think I might be stuck between two comedians.”

“Lucky you,” I teased, helping him sit on the couch. “You’re just lucky I love you.”

Ryan gave me a tired smile, his hand finding mine as he leaned back against the cushions. “I’m pretty damn lucky.”

—-

I kept my promise, hovering over Ryan, fussing over every little detail until I was sure he was as comfortable as he could be. I adjusted the pillows, made sure the blankets weren’t too heavy, and even ran my hand over his chest just to reassure myself that he was really here—alive and breathing. Only then did I finally settle beside him, curling into his warmth, my head resting lightly on his chest where I could hear the steady rhythm of his heart. The sound grounded me, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the lingering fear clawing at the edges of my mind.

“You sure you’re okay?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I tilted my head to look up at him.

“I’m sure, baby,” he murmured, his fingers slipping through my hair in slow, comforting strokes.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the feeling of his touch soothe me, but the fear still sat heavy in my chest. “I don’t ever want to know what it’s like to live without you again,” I admitted, my voice shaking despite my best effort to keep it steady. “I don’t think I’d survive it.”

Ryan’s hand stilled for a second before he tightened his grip, his other arm wrapping around me as if he could hold me together through sheer force of will. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, voice low and firm.

“You better not,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest, needing to feel him, needing to remind myself that he was here. That he was still mine.

I bit my lip as I thought about my father and what he said to me in the field. 

You only have so much time.

I didn’t know if a family was what Ryan wanted. I didn’t really know if that’s what I wanted. I know I want him. I’d be content enough. 

“You got quiet all of a sudden,” he said. 

“I was just thinking about something my Dad said,” I confessed.

“What was that?” he asked.

“I think he wants more grandkids,” I told him, “what do you think about that?” 

Ryan's fingers continued their lazy strokes through my hair, but I felt a slight pause at my question. He took a breath, his chest rising and falling beneath me.

“Well,” he said slowly, “I think your dad’s got a lot of opinions.”

I let out a short laugh, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Ryan shifted slightly, angling his head to look down at me. “But if you’re askin’ what I think about it—not what your dad thinks—I’d say… I don’t know. Never really let myself think too hard on it.”

I nodded, biting my lip again. “Me either.”

There was a beat of silence, nothing but the sound of our breathing and the faint rustling of the blankets as Ryan’s fingers traced slow circles against my back.

“I know I want you,” he finally said, voice steady, sure. “That part’s easy.”

I lifted my head to look at him, meeting his gaze in the dim light. “That’s how I feel too.”

He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his thumb lingering against my cheek. “Then maybe that’s enough for now.”

I exhaled, some of the weight on my chest easing. “Yeah. Maybe it is.”

—------------------

I slipped out of bed carefully, trying not to disturb Ryan, but the warmth of my absence must have woken him. He let out a low groan, rubbing at his eyes before wincing as he sat up too fast.

“You stay where you are, cowboy,” I warned, pausing by the bedside. “I’ll be right back.”

Ryan chuckled softly, voice still rough with sleep. “Doc didn’t confine me to bed, baby.”

“No, but I did,” I shot back, crossing my arms. “And I think we both know I’m scarier than the doc.”

He smirked, the corners of his mouth twitching up even as he let his head fall back against the pillow. “I ain’t gonna argue with that.”

“Smart man,” I said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his forehead. “Now stay put.”

“Alright, baby,” he murmured, his fingers catching my wrist for just a second before he let me go. I lingered, just for a moment, watching him settle back into the pillows. His breathing evened out again, his body still tired from everything he’d been through.

I knew he hated being fussed over, but I wasn’t about to let him play tough when he needed to rest. With one last glance back at him, I padded toward the door, already making a mental list of what he’d need to take it easy today. Whether he liked it or not, he was stuck with me hovering.

Softly, I made my way down the steps, careful not to wake anyone else. Though judging by the warm, buttery scent of biscuits and the sizzle of bacon, I wasn’t the first one up.

“Morning, Gator,” I greeted with a smile as I stepped into the kitchen.

“Morning, Miss Alex,” he responded, giving me a nod while expertly flipping bacon in the pan. “Made you some cold brew—it’s in the fridge.”

“See, this is why I love you,” I grinned, grabbing a cup and pouring myself a generous serving. The first sip was bliss, the chill waking me up almost instantly.

Gator chuckled, shaking his head as I moved to the counter to help him chop fruit.

“Can you grab me that tray thingy up there?” I gestured toward the top shelf. Without missing a beat, he reached up and pulled it down for me.

“Thanks,” I said, loading up a few bowls of fruit before turning to the biscuits and bacon. I stacked a plate high with both, making sure there was enough for Ryan to actually eat and not just pick at.

I scanned the kitchen, feeling like I was forgetting something. Before I could even ask, Gator placed a coffee cup and saucer on the tray, along with a carafe of coffee.

“You’re a mind reader,” I said, flashing him a grateful look.

He smirked. “More like I know how y’all are about coffee.”

With the tray balanced on my arm, I carefully climbed the steps, nudging the door open with my hip. Just as I stepped inside, Ryan was emerging from the bathroom, rubbing a hand over his face.

I shot him a playful glare. “And just where do you think you’re going?”

He held his hands up in defense. “I had to take a piss,” he said, voice still rough from sleep. “Promise I didn’t exert myself much.”

“Back to bed, cowboy,” I ordered, raising a brow.

Ryan sighed but smirked as he walked back toward the bed. “Yes, ma’am.”

I set the tray down on the nightstand, slipping back onto the mattress beside him. “Good. Now eat.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for a biscuit. “Guess I’m under house arrest, huh?”

I leaned into him, stealing a piece of bacon from his plate. “Damn right.”

Ryan eyed the plate of food before looking up at me, one brow quirked in suspicion. “Did you cook this?”

I smirked, popping a piece of fruit into my mouth. “I cut the fruit. Gator made everything else. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to poison you.”

He gave a small chuckle but still hesitated before taking a bite. I watched as his expression shifted—first to surprise, then to approval.

“That is good,” I said, nodding in agreement. “I think I might marry Gator… you know, if you don’t ask me first.”

The words tumbled out before I could stop them. My heart skipped a beat as I realized what I had just said.

Ryan froze, fork halfway to his mouth, his gaze locking onto mine. “Is that what you want, baby?”

“What?” I scrambled, suddenly flustered. “I was just joking.”

His lips curled into a knowing smirk as he set his fork down. “No, you weren’t.”

I swallowed hard, feeling my face heat. “I—”

Ryan reached for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. His voice softened. “You thinking about forever with me?”

I let out a breath, my heart pounding against my ribs. “I don’t know… I just know I don’t want a life without you in it.”

He squeezed my hand gently, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Then I guess I better make sure I stick around, huh?”

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. “Damn right, you better.”

—----

We spent the entire day tangled up in blankets, wrapped in the kind of easy silence that only came with being completely comfortable with someone. No ranch work, no stress—just us, stealing a moment of peace. At some point, I might have made him sit through The Twilight Saga.

By the time we were halfway through Breaking Dawn, Ryan was staring at the screen with a look of absolute disbelief. “Okay, I get the vampire thing now,” he said, rubbing his temple like he was trying to make sense of something impossible. “But why the hell do they sparkle? That makes no fucking sense.”

I grinned, stretching out beside him. “Creative choices,” I shrugged. “Their skin is covered in crystallized venom, I think.”

Ryan shot me a skeptical look. “Crystallized venom?” He shook his head. “So, what? They’re just… walking disco balls that bite people?”

I laughed. “Pretty much.”

He exhaled dramatically, staring at the ceiling. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing, baby. If I ever end up in some supernatural bullshit, I’m picking the wolves.”

I smirked, propping myself up on my elbow. “Oh yeah? You gonna run around shirtless with a pack of other guys and howl at the moon?”

Ryan smirked back. “Only if you’re watching.”

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth in my chest was undeniable as I snuggled closer. “Good choice, cowboy.”

After the credits rolled, I turned my attention to Ryan instead of the screen. He hadn’t looked completely disinterested the entire time, which was more than I could say for Kayce and Lee when I dragged them to see the movies in theaters all those years ago. That felt like a lifetime ago. Unlike them, Ryan didn’t grumble or complain—he actually seemed interested, asking questions instead of tuning it out.

I smiled, stretching lazily. “Since you’ve been so good,” I teased, “I guess I can let you out of confinement so you can go play with your friends. As long as you take it easy.”

Ryan smirked, tilting his head at me. “Play with my friends, huh? What am I, a damn kid?”

“Well,” I mused, tapping a finger to my chin, “you did just sit through five movies about sparkly vampires and shirtless werewolves without throwing a fit, so I’d say you earned some recess time.”

He chuckled, reaching out to pull me closer. “You sure you’re ready to get rid of me already?”

I pressed my palm to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my fingers. “Not even a little,” I admitted softly. “But I know you’re getting antsy, and if I keep you in bed any longer, you might start whining.”

Ryan laughed, leaning in to kiss my forehead. “I don’t whine, baby.”

“Mm-hmm,” I hummed, unconvinced. “Just promise me you’ll take it easy?”

He nodded. “I promise.”

“Good,” I said, giving him a quick peck on the lips before sitting up. “Now go on before I change my mind.”

We got dressed and walked out to the bunkhouse. Colby pulled up in the Tracker looking beat all to hell. Then I saw Teeter. My heart sank. Her face was cut and bruised and it looked like Colby had tried to staple the skin together.

“Alex!” he called over to me. “She needs your help.” Colby had always been easygoing. Even when things seemed to be going to hell around us. But this time, his voice was shaking. 

“Get her inside,” I told him and ran into the tack room to get my bag. I had sutures and some lidocaine. I hoped that would be enough. 

“What the fuck happened?” Rip’s voice called out from behind me.

“It was those dude-string cowboys,” Colby answered as he struggled to hold Teeter up. Rip hoisted her up in his arms and carried her inside. “They ran us down on horses, tried to trample us to death.” 

I followed behind them, hoping my hands weren’t shaking. I helped wash her up and get dressed. Then I had Teeter sit down in a chair. 

“This is gonna hurt like a son of bitch,” I told her as I pushed the needle in her cheak. I tuned out the sounds of the men around me, making plans to handle this situation. I focused on Teeter and her face. I let out a calming breath as I pulled the staples out. My fingers moving with ease as I stitched her up. I’d stitched up cows and pigs while helping the vet. But I’d never done it on a person, on a friend.

 “Almost finished,” I tried to reassure her, “you’re gonna have a gnarly scar but I think it’ll be small.” 

Teeter barely flinched as I worked, her jaw clenched tight, her pink-stained hat laid on the table beside us. She was tough as nails, but even she had her limits. Colby hovered nearby, his fists clenched at his sides, like he was barely holding himself together.

Rip paced behind us, silent but seething. I could feel the rage radiating off him in waves.

“You’re doin’ good, Teeter,” I murmured, snipping the last suture and dabbing her skin with antiseptic. “You’ll be cussing me out in no time.”

She gave me a weak smirk, her good eye twinkling with mischief. “Ain’t no cussin’ when you’re helpin’ me, Alex. But soon as I’m up, I’m gonna beat their asses myself.”

I smiled despite the knot in my chest. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Rip finally spoke, his voice like gravel. “They still up there?”

Colby nodded. “Last I saw.”

I exhaled slowly, pressing a bandage over the stitches. “Teeter stays here,” I said firmly. “She needs to rest.”

Teeter shot me a glare. “The hell I do.”

I raised a brow. “You wanna pop those stitches and have me do this all over again?”

“I’m going,” Teeter said, her jaw set with determination. “I’ll risk it.”

“If you’re going, I’m going with you.” I tied off the last stitch and met her eyes, my tone leaving no room for argument.

“It ain’t yer fight,” she countered, shaking her head.

I scoffed, tossing the used needle into the medical kit. “They did this to you, Teeter. Right here, on my father’s ranch—on my ranch. That makes it my fucking fight.” I stood up, my hands curling into fists. “And I’m not letting any of you talk me out of it.”

Around us, the bunkhouse was already coming alive with movement. The men didn’t need to say anything—I knew exactly what they were about to do. Boots pounded against the wooden floors, hands grabbed for weapons, and horses were being saddled. The air was thick with something heavy and inevitable.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

I felt my father’s presence behind me before he even spoke. When I turned to face him, I could see it in his eyes—this wasn’t what he had trained me for. This wasn’t what he wanted for me. But I wasn’t backing down.

“Let’s go outside,” Dad said, his voice calm but firm as he gestured to Kayce and Rip.

I nodded, refocusing on Teeter as I wrapped the last bandage over her stitched-up wound. “Good as new,” I murmured.

Colby hesitated before speaking. “Hey… you don’t have to come.”

Teeter shot him a look, fierce despite the pain in her face. “I wouldn’t miss this for the fuckin’ world.”

“All right, get up, let’s go,” Rip called out, his voice carrying over the tense energy in the room.

I grabbed a rifle off the rack, my grip steady as I checked the chamber. Before I could sling it over my shoulder, Rip was suddenly there, pulling it out of my hands.

“No.”

I snapped my head toward him, narrowing my eyes. “Who are you to tell me no?” My voice was cold, challenging.

Rip exhaled through his nose, leveling me with a look that carried more weight than words. “I’m someone who cares about you, Alex. And this—” he gestured toward the chaos unfolding around us, “—this is something you can’t be a part of and still be who you were before.”

My fingers curled into fists at my sides. “I may not have handled things the way you have,” I said quietly, my voice dangerously steady, “or taken as many people to the train station as you have…”

His jaw twitched.

“Yeah,” I continued, my gaze unwavering. “I know about that. I’ve known for a long time. I figured out a long time ago what it takes to keep this place safe.” I took a step closer, meeting his stare head-on. “I’m not standing by anymore. I won’t just watch you do it.”

Rip studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. But he didn’t argue.

Because he knew—this time, there was no stopping me.

The walk to the barn was silent, heavy with unspoken resolve. Ethan and Jake were already there, our horses saddled and ready. No words were needed. We all knew the plan.

I held back in the cover of the trees, keeping my mare still and quiet, her ears flicking at the tension in my grip. Walker rode the fence line, playing the decoy, an easy lure for men as arrogant as the Marrows. It didn’t take long—like starving wolves catching scent of a wounded deer, they took the bait, spurring their horses in pursuit. That was our cue.

We emerged from the shadows like specters, thundering across the open field in pursuit. My heart pounded against my ribs as my mare surged forward, muscles coiling and releasing beneath me with every stride. I angled left, boxing them in, forcing them toward the clearing where we wanted them.

“I’ll shoot every one of you sons of bitches!” Wade roared, his voice lost beneath the thundering hooves and snapping reins.

Rip was faster. His lasso cut through the air with deadly precision, snaring Wade clean around the torso. With a hard yank, Rip’s horse never lost momentum, dragging Wade from his saddle. The bastard hit the ground hard, his screams muffled by the dust and trampling hooves.

But I had my sights set on Clint. That smug son of a bitch. I could see the panic flashing in his eyes as he recognized what was coming for him. Lloyd was right beside me, matching my pace stride for stride.

“Get it, girl,” he called over, voice rough with encouragement.

I didn’t hesitate. My lasso found its mark, the loop tightening around Clint’s throat as I jerked him clean off his horse. His body slammed into the hard-packed earth, the sickening crack of skull against stone echoing through the clearing. He never even had time to scream.

Lloyd pulled up beside me, spitting onto Clint’s lifeless body. “Got off easy, you piece of shit.”

I met his gaze, giving a curt nod as I coiled my rope back up. I should’ve felt something—guilt, satisfaction, even relief. But all I could taste was rage, burning hot and unrelenting.

With Clint dead, our focus shifted back to Wade. Rip and the others had him pinned against a thick tree trunk, a rope already looped over a sturdy branch above. Wade stood on his toes, desperate for any relief from the tightening noose around his neck.

“I need a name,” Rip growled, voice low and dangerous.

Wade coughed, struggling against the rough fibers biting into his skin. “What name?”

“The motherfuckers that hired you,” Rip snapped. “I’m not askin’ twice. Next time, I’m startin’ with cuttin’ pieces off.”

Wade’s resolve crumbled. He gasped, eyes darting wildly between us before spitting out the answer. “Rourke. That Market Equities son of a bitch.”

Rip’s lip curled. “Now let me down,” Wade pleaded, voice raw with desperation.

“Why the hell would I do that?” Rip’s gaze darkened. “I’m gonna kill you, but first—I’m takin’ something back.”

He grabbed Wade’s shirt and tore it open, exposing the branded ‘Y’ scarred into his chest. Rip’s voice was steel when he spoke. “You don’t deserve to wear this brand.”

He flicked his gaze toward Walker. “Over here. You prove yourself and you have our trust. Or I can take something from you too.”

Walker hesitated only a second before stepping forward. He met Wade’s terrified gaze and shrugged. “Mister, I don’t know you. But if you’re wearin’ that brand, you must be a bad man. And if these sons of bitches want it back? You must be even worse.”

Walker drew his knife, steady hands cutting through flesh with practiced ease, peeling the brand from Wade’s chest. Wade’s screams filled the air, blending with the scent of blood and fear.

The rage was still there, still thrumming in our veins. It demanded payment. Ryan pulled the rope, lifting Wade from his feet. His body jerked, fought, kicked. He pissed himself, choked, and finally stilled.

Rip watched him dangle, his voice calm when he finally spoke. “Y’all wanted revenge. Now you got it.” His gaze swept over the rest of us, landing on me. “But there’s a price to pay for revenge. And now you gotta pay it.”

I met his eyes and nodded. I knew exactly what he meant. And I wanted it.

Night had settled around us. The campfire burned hot, the branding iron glowing white with heat. I watched as Rip branded each of the men, their jaws clenched, teeth gritted as the sizzle of the ‘Y’ burned into their flesh.

“Alex,” Rip said, his voice steady.

I nodded and dropped to my knees in front of the flames, my heart pounding as I pulled my shirt open, sliding my bra strap aside.

“You ready?” Rip asked.

I locked eyes with him, swallowed hard, and nodded.

The brand pressed against my skin, and the searing pain ripped through me. But I didn’t flinch.

[purplebass]

Happy Birthday @alastairstom !!!🎂💜

I wrote you a little something involving some of your favorite blorbos doing something together and I hope you like it 💜💜💜

“Be quiet, Matthew,” Alastair whispered. “Thomas is asleep.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to be quiet when I have to stir the dough?”

“Use a quietude rune like I did,” he replied. “I can’t risk him waking up because I’m crushing nuts.”

“He won’t,” he said, and applied the soundless rune on his forearm. “He is a heavy sleeper. He told me as much.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. Thomas could sleep through thunderstorms. “How much time do we need to bake this?”

“Mother’s recipe says sixty minutes,” Matthew glanced at the clock. “Which means we need to put it in the oven in five minutes or you can’t give it to him for breakfast.”

“By the Angel,” Alastair cursed. “Why must nuts be so hard to crush?”

“Cut them into bigger pieces.”

“Thomas doesn’t like big pieces.”

“Why must you be a tough nut to crack, Carstairs?”

“Math –” he looked at the door, trying to hear any sound coming from upstairs. “Stir the dough. We are running out of time.”

“You crush the nuts.”

Alastair frowned at Matthew but didn’t say anything. They didn’t talk much while they waited for the pie to bake, in case Thomas could hear them. Matthew also dozed off on the chair by the table. Not that Alastair needed him anymore at this point, but he wouldn’t just ask him to leave yet. For some reason, he needed moral support until the pie was ready and he knew it was as he expected it to be.

“It looks good from the outside,” Matthew commented a little before seven in the morning. They had just taken the pie out of the oven. “I wonder how it tastes.”

“I am afraid I can’t offer you a slice,” Alastair quickly said. “Can I offer you something else, instead?”

“No, but thank you, Carstairs,” he grinned. “If you don’t need my help anymore, I think I should go. Wouldn’t want Tom to find me here and ruin the surprise.”

“Next time, then.”

Alastair followed him to the foyer where he took his coat from the rack and put it on. 

“I’m sure the pie is good,” Matthew said. “He will love it. He loves nuts. And he loved my mother’s pie every time he ate it.”

“Thank you for helping me on such a short notice,” Alastair said. “And at night. I was quite desperate.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied. “That’s what friends do, right?”

“Right,” he managed a smile. 

“Good luck,” he said. “I’ll wish happy birthday to Thomas later. Goodbye, Alastair.”

“Goodbye, Matthew.”

Alastair sighed. It was time. He went to the kitchen to retrieve the pie and climbed the stairs one at a time. He didn’t want Thomas to hear him but he also didn’t want to slip accidentally and fall and throw the pie he had spent so much time preparing on the wooden floor.

The door was open, just like they liked to leave it. This was their house and they had their privacy. They wanted to live their love out in the open here. They wanted to be free.

Thomas stirred in bed and the first thing he saw was Alastair carrying the cake. 

“You didn’t,” he muttered, his voice sleepy. “You are nuts.”

“About you? I’m quite certain I am,” Alastair offered him a loving smile and sat next to him on the bed. “Happy birthday, hamsaram.”

“Is it…?” he wondered, and he nodded. “You are completely nuts. Put the pie on the nightstand so I can properly kiss you, khoshgelam.”

Alastair did as he was told and kissed his partner vehemently. “Asheghetam,” he said once they stopped, both out of breath. 

“Asheghetam,” echoed Thomas. 

And then they ate the cake.

[jodilinbio]

Ida, a 60-year-old from Germany, was my longest cellmate. We shared a cell for a month. I didn’t know it at the time because she wouldn’t tell me, but she was in for burglary and theft. I found this out after I got home and did some online investigating out of curiosity.

Other than some interesting conversations, Ida and I weren’t very compatible. She was up at 7:00 every single morning, which felt like the middle of the night for me. At least she tried to be quiet while I was sleeping, though she couldn’t always help it. Sometimes, you just have to cough, sneeze, or flush the toilet, which was louder than Niagara Falls.

One thing that drove me as crazy as her constant chatter (I’m the type that only likes listening to people I really care about) was her endless pacing back and forth. Sometimes I didn’t mind, but other times it made me feel smothered, even though I’d rather see a cellmate than hear them. When both people are on their bunks, you can’t see each other. But with her pacing for hours at a time, it felt like I had even less space and privacy. The only time she was on her bunk was when she was asleep or when I was on the toilet, but I wasn’t about to sit on that cold metal can all day just to keep her still!

Ida really stressed me out a couple of times. If I didn’t block the air vent enough, cold air would blow onto my upper bunk. After fighting with her about this numerous times, I finally threatened to break her hand if she moved the cardboard I’d placed to block the vent. We agreed we didn’t have to like each other, but we did have to respect each other, especially when it came to sleep. So, we kept trying to be quiet when the other was asleep, though she wouldn’t talk to me for a few days. I understood she was upset, but holding a grudge seemed silly.

In the end, Ida came to realize I was serious, as she put it. Another older woman, Julia, was sharing a cell with a loud-mouthed girl named Maria, who was 30 and in for drugs. We agreed to switch, so Julia would go in with Ida, and I’d go in with Maria. But I quickly wondered if I’d made a mistake. As I lay there, wishing Maria’s non-stop talking would just shut up, I wondered how Ida was doing with Julia, who was in for writing phony prescriptions.

The next day, while Maria was in court, a DO asked if I’d go in with Julia because she and Ida weren’t getting along. Instead, I suggested we just switch back, and we did.

When I returned to the cell with Ida, she told me that Julia snored like crazy, which drove her nuts even when she was awake—much like barking drives me crazy. After giving Julia her bunk and moving to the top, Ida realized I wasn’t kidding about the cold draft up there.

Ida and I stayed together until a few people rearranged the whole pod for reasons I can’t begin to fathom, and I ended up with 44-year-old Marilyn, who was in on drug and prostitution charges.

Marilyn was one of those good girls gone bad but was very nice and easy to get along with. Unlike most inmates, she had loving, caring parents. She’d just hooked up with the wrong guy one day, and he led her down a bad path. He got her into drugs, and she eventually started hooking to support her habit.

She was a great cellmate—polite and considerate. We laughed at each other’s jokes, and she slept a lot, so I often felt like I was alone. Unfortunately, Marilyn and I were only together for ten days before she was released.

Then came 29-year-old Nancy, who was almost as crazy as Melinda, though smarter. She wasn’t a bad singer, and she had a great body—nothing but skin, bone, and muscle—but her face looked mean. She was in for drugs and assaulting a cop, which she loved to brag about, as much as she loved playing with herself while I was on my bunk. She wanted to play with me too, but I declined. I just wasn’t attracted to her. Nancy was so moody she made even my sister, one of the moodiest people I knew, seem calm. Her moods would swing rapidly—one minute we’d be having an intelligent conversation, the next she’d be crying, then laughing, then furious. Eventually, it all came to a head.

It started with her bleeding at the wrong time of the month. She was convinced she was having a miscarriage, even though her pregnancy test had been negative. I tried to comfort her, reminding her that stress could make women irregular. But she snapped at me over and over, until I’d had enough.

“Don’t take your frustrations out on me!” I yelled.

Then she started bashing me, calling me lazy for being a homemaker and accusing me of using Tom, who worked hard. She even claimed she recognized him from a time he supposedly picked her up in Mesa, thinking she was a hooker, when all she wanted was a ride (Tom and I laughed about this during our next visit) because we both knew it was bullshit.

“Tom has the lowest appetite of any man I’ve ever known,” I told her. “And even if he didn’t, why would he go all the way to Mesa for a piece of ass? And isn’t it nice how Tom gets to relax on his days off without having to do cleaning or laundry? That’s because Miss Lazy here does it for him. So don’t be telling me stuff you know nothing about!”

That’s when she threatened to yank me off my bunk and “show me the true meaning of the words shut up.” My first instinct was to fight, but I knew she wasn’t worth getting in trouble for and losing my visitation and commissary rights. So I kept my temper in check, knowing I’d probably lose the fight anyway.

Next, she demanded I give her everything from my journal that mentioned her name, but I refused. I also learned never to tell anyone in jail I was keeping a journal. People guilty of certain crimes, or those who had something to hide, could get pretty paranoid.

I asked Chavez, the DO on duty that evening, to pull me from the cell, and she did. I traded Nancy’s erratic moods for taunts through the vent, but it was the lesser of two evils. I had to deal with Myra, Mindy, and Peaches shouting at me through the vents unless I had my radio on. Peaches was just a follower, going along with Myra and Mindy, both child molesters. Those two were particularly paranoid about being written about, for obvious reasons—they were the scum of the earth and knew it. Nancy had yelled out their dirty deeds while we were cellmates, and because I was with her, they thought I was involved. Personally, I didn’t care what anyone was in for, as long as they respected me. But these were the kinds of people you just wanted to strangle. I’d rather have been in a cell with a mass murderer than with child molesters!

After about a week of screaming at me, and realizing ignoring them wasn’t going to work, I started airing out Myra and Mindy’s dirty laundry, telling the whole pod what they were in for and then some. Sure enough, Myra broke down and begged me to stop, promising to stop screaming at me in return. I decided that if she kept her mouth shut, so would I.

By early March, I had been alone for almost two weeks when 46-year-old Teresa came to join me. Though chubby and shorter than me, the Hispanic woman had pretty eyes with thick, dark lashes that didn’t need mascara.

Teresa was there because her stepdaughter had accused her of molestation. We got along well, but after just a few days together, she moved to a larger cell, which she preferred. Some people felt claustrophobic in the smaller cells.

After Teresa left, Silvia, a 21-year-old in for theft, moved in with me. While she was sweet, she wouldn’t stop talking. It seemed most inmates were talkaholics, but at least she admitted it upfront. I guess some people felt like there was nothing else to do in jail but chat.

After a week and a half, Nancy left the dorm, much to everyone’s delight, and I asked to move into the cell she had left, which was my favorite in the pod. It was the smallest, darkest cell, more out of the way than the others, and it was also warmer in there.

Unfortunately, Silvia broke out in a rash and had to be put in a cell by herself in case it was contagious. She was also on restriction. At first, the DO wanted to move me next door, but I protested, letting her know how much I hated the bigger cells. So she moved me in with 39-year-old Charlotte instead.

The second the door closed behind me, I knew I’d made a mistake. Although Charlotte slept most of the four hours I was with her and didn’t say or do anything threatening, she grossed me out. When she did wake up, she coughed up spit all over the place. It was disgusting.

I told the DO I was so desperate to get out of that cell that I would take the bigger cell after all, with Teresa and Nancy. I knew I could move back out in a day or two, and I did. Charlotte left, and I moved back to my favorite cell, which would be my final move.

Only Teresa and Nancy were in the big cell during my brief stay, and I was shocked at how much Teresa had changed. She adapted to jail life remarkably fast. She had been tearful and quiet, but now she chatted happily. It turned out she was also an ungrateful, selfish user, despite everything I had given her and helping her adjust to life inside.

Nancy was one of the nicest, quietest cellmates I’d ever had. She was a good listener too. I don’t remember her exact age—maybe mid-thirties. She had been a security guard at the courthouse before her arrest. While she wouldn’t discuss her charges, I later learned they were child-related, just as I suspected. Most people in Ad-Seg were in for child-related charges, often with high-profile cases.

In my favorite cell, where I’d spend the rest of my time, 18-year-old Jamie, in for drug charges, arrived to spoil my peace after a few days. She was more Melinda-like than any other cellmate I’d had—she wouldn’t shut up, couldn’t sit still, and seemed delusional. Like Melinda, Jamie was convinced demons were pinning her down and telling her to do all kinds of evil things.

After I’d had enough of it, I decided it was my turn to bully someone out of a cell as I’d been bullied before. But before I had the chance, Jamie did me the favor of asking to move to a bigger cell. I took advantage of this and convinced a DO, who didn’t know her as well as they knew me, to move her. I told Jamie to sprinkle water on her eyes to make it look like she’d been crying over feeling claustrophobic.

My second-to-last cellmate was Tiffany, a 26-year-old in on drug charges. She and I were both night owls and compatible as cellmates, but she too wanted to move to a bigger cell, so she did.

My final cellmate was Misha. Misha was my age and in for manufacturing. She arrived in M Dorm with two others, and I lucked out by getting her. Misha was nice, quiet, and sane. One of the other women was a major beggar, and another, who limped around on a cane, was incredibly loud and bald. We called her Baldilocks.

Misha was the perfect cellmate because all she did was sleep. When she was awake, she was quiet and mostly kept to herself on her bunk. We were together until the day I left.

[marischimmer]

Vignar - Introduction

Up the bridge, down the fence, across the stream. That was the quickest way to reach their playground, right in the forest. She had met a girl there once, and they had been friends ever since. They called it the queendom, a place where adults weren’t allowed and they ruled as princesses. Her friend had been there every single day, adding more and more things to their castle or making the village bigger and greater. She was never mad at her when she couldn’t go; no, she wasn’t like the other kids, demanding and arrogant.

Down the fence, across the stream. She put special effort in keeping her dress and shoes spotlessly clean. They got angry at her if she didn’t get home exactly as she left. Her long, black braids were starting to get messy, but she could fix that later. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Across the stream. Be careful with the stones, don’t fall into the water, don’t wet the shoes. She had arrived home soaked once, and, man, were they mad. Just a bit more, and she could meet her friend.

Her golden eyes got bigger trying to see in the forest darkness. She was really close, so close she could hear her humming. She smiled when she finally saw the brown, curly mess on her friend’s head and the stained hoodie. For being a princess, she was quite unsophisticated. And she liked her all the same.

– …Hi –

– Oh, ey! Princess Lisette! You here! You maked it! – her friend greeted, wide smile and shiny, chestnut eyes. Even with her broken English, they could perfectly understand each other. Games don’t need proper language. She chuckled.

– It wasn’t easy, but I really wanted to play with you… –

– Heh, thanks! Come, I finded somethin’ nice for da queendom! – she called, pulling her hand and going right to the opposite side of the huge rock that played as the queendom walls. There, over a sunny field, laid a lot of tiny buildings made of sticks, leaves, flowers and anything they would find, and in the middle of all that, a huge, broken playhouse: the castle.

– Oh, the graveyard got bigger since the last time I’ve been here… –

– Sí, I finded some… em… nut’s animals…? –

– Do you mean squirrels? –

– Sí! Squirrels. I taked them here. Now they can sleep, no? – 

– Yeah… What did you want to show me anyways? –

– Ah, sí! – her eyes shone again as she made her way to the castle and let a flower curtain fall over the door frame – Ta-tan! See! We have door now! –

– Woah, fantastic! Shaiel, this looks amazing! – she gasped, hugging her and making her chuckle.

– You sayed you want door, and da princess wishs are orders, no? I make windows tomorrow! But come! I seeed some rocks today! You like it! – she said, making so many mistakes her friend laughed.

– Shy, you don’t say “seeed”, it’s saw! Or seen! Seeds are for plants, not for watching! –

– Ah. Well, I seen some nice rocks, and I want you see they! –

– Pfft- Ok, ok, let’s see them! – she agreed, realizing teaching her would take more than just correcting her every now and then. Her friend grabbed her hand again and she led the way to a small waterfall, all the stream covered with rocks and little, shiny stones.

– See! Nice rocks! – she smiled, getting to the water without even taking off her trainers.

– Wait! Won’t your parents ground you when they see your clothes? – she stopped her, worried. Her friend looked at her stained hoodie and wet trainers. One of the sleeves was ripped, and the shoelaces were covered with mud.

– No? Why? – she asked, confused, staring at her and realizing her clothes were too perfect for that dirty forest – Ah. Well, if I use that clothes I get ground! I use my bad clothes! You can’t use that clothes here, Lise, it’s forest! –

– Well… Yeah… I know, but… –

– Princess use shorts, Lise. See me! I’m princess, no? I use shorts! – she said very seriously, trying to convince her.

– Fine… I’ll bring shorts tomorrow… –

– You here tomorrow? Yay! –

– I’ll try to! But it’s getting dark, I have to go, Shy –

– Oh, ok… See ya tomorrow, Princess Lisette –

– See you tomorrow, Princess Shaiel! –

Across the stream, down the fence, up the bridge.

Up the bridge, down the fence, across the stream. Her friend was right, shorts and trainers were way better; now she could run and jump without fearing wounds.

Down the fence, across the stream. Actually, no, screw that, climb the fence! And swim in the stream! No more worrying about that; if she got stained, she could wash herself in the water, and if she got wet, she would dry up with the field’s sun.

Swim through the stream. She could get some stones, even, to surprise her. Her friend would be so glad to see her working on the queendom too, they would work together from now on!

She ran all the way from the waterfall to the sunny field, her arms full of shiny stones.

– Princess Shaiel, I’m here! – she called, trying to settle her breathing. Weird. She didn’t answer – Princess Shaiel? Shy? Are you here? – she called out loud, dropping the rocks without noticing. Clearly there was nobody there. But she wouldn’t get mad at her, no, she had never gotten angry at her when she couldn’t go, she wouldn’t do that to her only friend – Well, maybe she got sick from the wet trainers… – she tried to convince herself. Yes, that should be it. But then again, there was no point in staying there if her friend wasn’t with her.

Across the stream, down the fence, up the bridge. She would come back tomorrow to play.

And yet, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that she wouldn’t see her again.

…No?

Many years later…

And there it was, the last time they would hear the ring bell that week. Now they were free to do whatever they wanted until Monday came. Well, while respecting the school rules, that is.

– May I retain your attention for one last minute? – asked the teacher, and everyone froze in their seats. Would she give them more homework? They already had a bunch of her Math’s book pages to solve, she wouldn’t give them more as the tutor, would she? Those self reflection questionnaires were even worse.

– Listen. This weekend, a new student will arrive. She’s really delicate and she will be in this class specifically because of your kindness. There’s one warning: whatever you do, do not touch her. She’s haphephobic, she really can’t stand it. If you get in trouble because you touched her, you can’t say I didn’t warn you. Please, be nice to her. And don’t forget to do your homework. You are free to leave now – she finally said, and immediately everybody started talking as they made their way out of the classroom. A haphephobic who needed an extra amount of kindness? That was kinda rare there.

You can bet everyone forgot about that Math’s homework right away.

[headkiss]

Hiii, could I request a Steve x Female reader inspired by the Little women, specifically the dynamic between Amy and Laurie. Reader is Nancys sister (feels second to her, like Jo and Amy) and got close with Steve when working with him at scoops ahoy, he confesses his feeling when they’re captured by the Russians but it doesn’t go well but plz make it a happy ending cos I need it hahaha ♥️♥️♥️ thank u!!

hiiii i love little women and i hope this is somewhat what u wanted!!! | 0.9k words, wheeler!reader, fluff :D

When Steve was with Nancy, you convinced yourself you didn’t like him, that you simply had to deal with his presence.

He was always kind to you, making small talk whenever he could, flashing you warm smiles. You weren’t used to him even looking your way, let alone talk to you, and then he was in your house.

Maybe it was the unusualness of interacting with him that put you off. Or—as you’d figure out later—maybe it was the underlying jealousy that he liked Nancy in a way he’d never like you.

Then, they broke up, and he was gone. You found out what happened, and you reached out to Steve, letting him know that you were there if he needed. That’s when you first realized you’d been lying to yourself all along; you didn’t dislike him at all.

You eventually started working with him and Robin at Scoops Ahoy, and he became your best friend. And you, his.

It got harder and harder to push your feelings for him away, to act like all you saw him as was a friend.

Then, the Upside Down invaded your lives again, and this time, you were dragged in. Russian codes, trying to crawl through vents, a secret elevator. All leading up to now, being trapped in said secret elevator. You had enough time in the room to process the fact that you might not get out, and as everyone else slept, you stayed wide awake.

You thought everyone was asleep, at least.

Steve was awake, looking at you through squinted eyes so that you wouldn’t notice. His stomach was in knots; he felt awful for involving you in this mess. You who, against all odds, stuck by him even when your sister didn’t. You who he’d grown to love, over time.

It was hard for him to accept at first, that he fell for none other than his ex’s sister. But, he couldn’t ignore it for long. What with the way you looked at him without an ounce of judgment.

You bury your face in your hands, lean your head against the wall behind you. Steve decides to get up and sit next to you. He nudges you with his shoulder, making you look over at him.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks.

“Can’t imagine why. It’s not like we’re doomed, or anything,” your sarcasm is familiar enough to make him smile.

“I’ll get us out of here, honey. I swear.”

“Yeah, I know you will.”

Though you don’t actually know anything about how or when you’ll get out, you do know that he’s going to do everything he can to keep you safe. You’ve never had to doubt that.

“What are you thinking about?”

He can tell when your mind is full, when your thoughts get a little too loud. He’s learned to know you better than he knows anyone else and sometimes it drives him nuts. All he wants to do is hold you, kiss it all away. But, he can’t.

He asks a loaded question, you think. Because, what aren’t you thinking about right now? You’re thinking about your family, what the last thing you said to them was. Thinking about the other people trapped along with you and how much you wish they weren’t here, only so that they were safe, You’re thinking about Steve, about all the things you might never say.

“Just, um, about what might happen if we die.”

“We’re not dying,” he faces you, makes sure you’re looking at him when he repeats, more sure, “we are not dying, you hear me?”

“Yeah. I know, I’m just scared.”

This time, he lets himself reach out. He takes your hand, laces your fingers together.

“Me too.”

His eyes are searching your face, roaming over every detail. The color of your eyes, the way your lashes frame them, the slope of your nose. Then, he thinks, if he does die, he doesn’t want it to be before he gets to tell you how he feels.

“Can I tell you something?”

“‘Course you can, Steve.”

“It’s gonna sound kinda crazy,” you squeeze his hand, a silent reassurance. “But, just hear me out.”

He clears his throat, clearly nervous. Your voices stay hushed, never loud enough to wake anyone, only to hear each other. It’s your turn to look him over, the way his throat bobs when he swallows, the hair that falls over his forehead.

“‘M not judging you, promise.”

“No, I know. Um. So, when we met, I barely even knew you. But now, everything’s different. You’re my favorite person, like, ever, and I don’t want you to feel like things have to change after this, but I love you,” your world halts, it’s just him. “I’m in love with you.”

“You’re lying,” you want to believe him so badly, but it’s hard not to feel like he only wants you because he can’t have Nancy.

“I’m not. Look at me,” he uses the hand that isn’t holding yours to cradle your face, thumb sliding over your cheek. “I know how it seems, and that the only reason we know each other is ‘cause I was with Nancy, but this is real. I do love you, and I’ll do whatever I can to prove that.”

You kiss him, quick and sweet, but the way he melts into you is enough to let you know he’s being completely honest. You lean your forehead on his.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“I love you, too.”

At least, if this is your last day alive, you were able to have been loved by Steve Harrington, and to love him back.

[unholy-screeching9]

NSFW CONTENT WARNING! 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI.

💋

(I’m running out of gifs fuck)

King Dice x Reader “Sleepy Sex” Headcanons

This is one of a few requests from a very lovely follower of mine who messaged me! They asked for King Dice and Reader to be asleep after a long day of work, but Reader wakes up in the middle of the night. They try everything to get back to sleep, but when nothing works, they turn to their husband for help. When they finally wake Dice up (who is super tired), he eventually agrees to give Reader some “help” in falling back asleep 💋

They told me I could do Game or Show Dice but I did both because sleepy Dice is my WEAKNESS and I was honestly hoping for a request like this LMFAOOOOO

Anyways enjoy loves! To that follower who messaged me I hope this hits the spot. 💋

King Dice x Reader “Sleepy Sex” Headcanons (GAME)

It’s no secret that your lover works a ton. But sometimes (a lot of the time), he works too much for his own good.

King Dice’s shifts on the casino’s main floor are already long enough, but some days, the manager has to work overtime signing off contracts for the Devil.

These hours can add up very quickly. Dice wakes up at 6 am sharp every morning, to make it to work by 7. Usually, he’s back in his chambers at 8 pm, but sometimes…

Sometimes he doesn’t come back until 10 or 11. Sometimes, Dice will return when you’re already asleep, having dozed off while waiting for him.

On the days he comes back late and you’re awake, you’ll watch him shuck off his shoes and waistcoat, lazily kicking them off to the side. He’s like a zombie, fumbling with the buttons on his vest, then his undershirt.

You’ll help him get undressed and guide him to the bed, laying him down. You’ll gently remove his makeup, rubbing his chest to relax him as you do so, and he’s passed out in seconds.

You crawl into bed and join him. There’s no lovemaking on those nights. But that’s okay. You’ll make it up to each other when Dice isn’t as exhausted.

The problem is, it’s starting to be every day that Dice comes home way later than normal. It’s like he’s a robot. He gets up, works, comes back, and passes out in bed. Repeat. Every day. For the past week.

You’re more worried for him than anything. Is he eating well? Is he getting enough sleep at night? Surely not, if he’s only asleep from 12-6. But he can’t easily say no to his boss.

You wish you could help him, but he always assured you that you do enough. In fact, he feels bad that he can’t give back to you when you do so much for him.

He’s so assuring and kind to you, it’s very ironic when he’s a sly, deceitful manipulator to others for a living.

In the end, you both are just happy to sleep in each other’s presence at night when the days are too long to do anything fun. Just being with each other is enough, and you sleep peacefully knowing that Dice is getting rest right beside you.

Until you don’t.

Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason, which is already annoying enough. What’s even worse is when you can’t fall back asleep. It drives you nuts.

A glass of water. Repositioning. Counting sheep. Repositioning again. Nothing works. You’re restless. You’re tired. It’s 2 am. Why does life hate you so much?

You sigh to yourself in irritation and lay on your back, looking over at your husband to check on him. The sight makes you smile softly, taking away a bit of the irritation you feel.

Dice is sound asleep, gentle snores emanating from his open mouth. He’s drooling a little onto his pillow, his hand holding onto the silky sheets. His eyes carry slightly dark rings underneath.

You turn onto your side, watching your husband fondly. You remember a conversation you had with him years ago, about his sleeping habits. He had laughed sheepishly, stating he wasn’t the prettiest sleeper in the world, and it was okay to kick him if needed.

You disagreed with him completely.

“I sleep like a slob. I wouldn’t know if I’m keeping you up unless you woke me, darlin’. You won’t upset me if you do, I promise. It’s no big deal.”

“I would never wake you, honey. I actually find it cute!” You laughed, kissing his cheek. “Honestly, seeing you getting some real sleep and not just resting your eyes makes me happy. It’s worth it.”

He just looks so content, so peaceful. So calm. So beautiful. You don’t mind the noise, or the way he’ll sometimes cling onto you. You don’t mind the days you wake up and realize he stole the blankets... Okay, maybe you mind that part a little bit. But still.

For him to trust you so much that he can sleep deeply next to you… that’s all you care about.

He trusts you enough to be vulnerable around you. And to you? That’s the most precious thing he could ever give you. His trust. You will never take advantage of that.

You scoot closer to him, gently wriggling under his arm and nuzzling against him. You rest your head on his chest, taking comfort in hearing his heartbeat. Feeling his gentle vibrations every time he breathes in.

Shutting your eyes, you try to fall asleep again, desperate for just a few more hours. Of course, life still hates you, so you don’t get very far. You start to change cuddling positions, wrapping a leg over Dice’s side. Clinging onto him like a koala.

With no luck, you sigh softly in frustration and gently bonk your head on his chest repeatedly. Dice doesn’t wake up. You’re a little surprised, but then again, he’s sleeping off a 16 hour shift. He’s got to be dead tired.

But that’s a little bit of the problem, in your opinion. He’s tired. You’re not. Well, not anymore. You’re bored. And you’re starting to get needy.

You hate to wake him when he desperately needs to sleep, but you’re a bit desperate too. You both haven’t had sex in days, and you’re getting pent up. It’s not his fault at all, and you understand completely. You just…

You just need a little pick-me-up, that’s all. One quick round. Half an hour tops. Surely he’d understand, right? You’d do the same for him if he woke you up in the middle of the night to have some fun.

Your hand travels up and down his side, making its way over his chest. You gently scratch back and forth, hoping to rouse him. Dice sighs softly in content and hugs you closer, but he doesn’t wake up. Dammit.

“Dice?” you ask quietly, reaching around and rubbing his back. Nothing. You tap your fingers along his shoulder blades to try and rouse him. He’s fast asleep.

You think for a moment before smiling and gently slapping his cheek a couple times, slightly shaking him. “King Diceee…”

Finally, a response. Your husband groans sleepily and yawns, rubbing his eyes. He doesn’t open them. He’s barely conscious, but he’s there.

“Mmm… hm…?”

“I’m sorry to wake you, but I can’t sleep, baby. Could we perhaps have a little fun?~” You coo lovingly and rub his chest, hoping to egg him on and wake him up a little more.

Unfortunately for you, Dice just lets out another yawn and pulls you closer, shaking his head.

“Mmm… ‘m sorry sweets, but I can barely stay awake right now… I’m way too tired…” he speaks in slurred fragments, slowly falling more asleep with each word he mumbles.

“Awww, but—”

A soft snore is your reply. Dammit. Damn his busy schedule for making him so hard to wake up.

But you’re not giving up yet. You need him now. And you’re determined to make him need you back, even if it’s early in the morning.

You gently shake him again, stirring him once more. You smile sheepishly as he groans and opens his eyes to slits this time, staring you down.

“Dollface, please, I’m exhausted…” he murmurs tiredly, cupping your face.

You lean into his touch, kissing his palm and gazing up at him.

“Could I at least have some kisses and snuggles then? I promise I’ll let you sleep afterwards.”

Dice smiles sleepily at you and wraps his arm back around you, resting his head on top of yours. “Well, how could I say no to that kind of offer?”

You grin happily, elated that he agreed to at least touch you and kiss you for a little while. He leans down and presses a sleepy kiss to your lips, his hands snaking over your back as you hug yourself closer to him.

Your lips smile against his, and your hands lovingly trace the edges of his head. Your fingers gently rub over his pips, causing him to shudder and moan softly into your mouth.

An idea strikes your mind. You smirk eagerly as you wrap both of your legs around him, hugging him now with all four of your limbs. You adjust yourself so your crotch is touching his, and you slowly grind against him. Your lips never leave his.

Your hands slide behind him, rubbing down his back. They find his ass, and you teasingly grab it through the fabric of his boxers.

You need to take advantage of the fact that he’s awake. You need to get him in the mood. Quickly, before he falls asleep again.

Life decides to treat you kindly this time around, as you earn another sleepy groan from your husband. As he hugs you tighter, you feel his growing erection against your crotch. Yes. Yes.

You whine into his mouth to try and persuade him more, reaching down with your hand and pulling at his boxers. You slip it inside, massaging his dick and grinning triumphantly at Dice’s hungry growl in response.

He pulls away from your mouth and grips your chin with his hand, forcing your face upwards so he can get a better look at you. You search his eyes for any anger or malice, but to your pleasant surprise you find none.

You only see lust.

“You naughty little pip… you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Dice smirks down at you, his eyes flickering bright green. “Alright baby, your pleas have been heard… I’ll show you a good time~”

Yes!

He’s going to satisfy you. After waiting for days, he’s finally going to give you what you’ve been craving.

You’re so excited. He asks you to turn over so he’s spooning you, and you immediately do what he says. You feel his hand make its way over your side and up your front, traveling up your chest and lovingly rubbing the area.

You hear the sound of his hand pulling his boxers down, and not long later, you feel him slip your bottoms and underwear down to your knees. He’s being so considerate that he leaves your pajamas on for you.

Or maybe he’s just too tired. Either way, you find it sweet.

You feel a little bad that you woke him up twice just so he’d make love to you, especially on a night when he seems extra tired from work. But you also feel a completely new level of adoration for him.

It was something he promised a long time ago, but you never really took seriously until now. He truly doesn’t care what time of day it is. If you need something, anything, he’ll provide for you. No matter what it is. No matter how he feels.

You love him. So much. And he loves you.

You know what else you love? That sweet, deep, rough voice of his as he murmurs in your ear:

“So sorry to keep you waiting, toots. I do hope I can make up for lost time~”

And with that, his hardness is slipping inside of your ass, coaxing a loud moan from the back of your throat. He is so. Damn. Full. He feels great. And that feeling is multiplied by ten once he starts moving.

His thrusts are slow and sensual. By god, it feels so nice. Tonight, he’s making love to you. Taking his sweet time with you.

Dice is being so careful not to hurt you. His hands travel over your front, resting on your stomach. You whine softly in pleasure as he gives it gentle massages with every push.

You reach back with your hand, feeling around for Dice’s head. When you find it, you trace your fingers along the edges, moaning soft “thank yous” and “I love yous” as he continues.

This is your husband when he’s on the brink of slumber. And he’s taking such good care of you. God, you’re so lucky. He’s so sweet to you. You thank the lucky stars that you’re the only one who sees him like this. So kind. So caring. So vulnerable.

You cherish moments like these. You cherish him. You’re so happy that he’s yours, and that you can spend the rest of your days with him. Having more moments like these. More nights where you both make love under the sheets at 2:30 am.

Dice rubs your tummy again as he thrusts into you, smiling lovingly and moaning sweet nothings to you.

“Doll, you’re so perfect, you know that? God, I don’t even care that you woke me up. You can wake me up any time if it means I get to feel like this… I love you so much~”

He slightly increases his pace and power, but not by much. He still wants to take his time, to keep things nice and slow. You don’t mind at all. In fact, you enjoy it. Dice makes you feel so loved.

You move your hands down your torso and rest them over his, rubbing your thumb over his wedding ring as he keeps thrusting.

A smile forms back on your face as you think about how well off you are. Your husband is wonderful, and he’s all yours.

“Ohhh, my King, you feel perfect… I needed this. Thank you so much… I love you, I love you… please don’t stop, I beg you~”

Dice listens, the sweetness of your voice as you cry out for him only pushing him further. He leans down, gently nipping at your shoulder. He’s getting close. You can feel it.

He moans into your shoulder, biting down a bit harder. His arms keep you steady as he pushed into you, chasing after his release.

You groan loudly, tiling your head back so his head rests against your own.

“Ohhh, King! King, I’m gonna cum-!”

“I am too, darlin’! It’s alright! Cum for me!”

You whine loudly as you finally hit your release, the ecstatic feeling you’ve missed for so long returning as your juices spill, leaking down your legs.

Dice moans loudly in pleasure as he reaches his own climax, shooting his seed inside of your ass, filling you completely. Fuck, there’s a lot, and it feels incredible. You’re so glad you convinced him to do this with you.

You pant heavily, holding each other for support as you ride out your high together. He’s glistening, beads of sweat running down the side of his head. But he’s smiling at you. Grinning at you. God, he loves you so much. You’re everything to him.

Just as he is with you. You beam back at him and gently turn around, resting your hands at his sides as he pulls his boxers back up.

He chuckles smoothly and pulls your pajama bottoms up before pulling you close to him, kissing and nibbling at your neck.

You tilt your head back for him and laugh softly, your eyes slipping shut. You love him. And you’re so happy to have him.

“Thank you, King… that’s all I really needed.” You whisper, rubbing Dice’s back, smiling softly as his love biting slows down.

“You’re all I need. I’m so thankful for you. I promise, I’ll make this up to you when you aren’t working so late.”

The King hums quietly back in response, hugging you against him as he kisses your neck a couple more times. He yawns tiredly, leaning his head on your shoulder and smiling sleepily.

“Anything for you, pumpkin. I don’t care what time it is. I love you.”

You kiss his forehead as his dark, sleepy eyes slip shut, your fingers gently drumming on his back as you murmur sweetly:

“I love you too, baby. So much.”

Dice is asleep before you even finish your sentence. And finally, you start to doze off as well.

By 3:00 am, you’re both dozing peacefully, cuddling in each other’s arms and thankful that life was kind enough to lead you to each other.

Sometimes, life can bring the biggest of blessings.

King Dice x Reader “Sleepy Sex” Headcanons (SHOW)

King Dice’s show only lasts a couple hours tops every time it pops up on the radio, but there’s hours of other work and prep that the audience just doesn’t see.

There’s makeup. Voice warmups. Rehearsals. Recording tests. Suit fittings. Press conferences. Interviews. Meetings with his boss. The list could go on.

You’re at the theater to see all his hard work come together in a beautiful performance, and then you go home with him. But Dice?

Dice is there. All. Day. Long.

He wakes up bright and early, making sure to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead whether you’re asleep or not. He gets up, washes up, gets dressed, and of course, he writes you a note.

He invites you to his show formally, even though you both are married, and you know all the staff on a first name basis. It’s just one of those simple and cute things he does for you to show you his love when he can’t be there all the time.

You never really noticed just how late you two would get home on a normal day, but you actually arrive by 10 at the earliest. And that’s not including any after-show events.

No parties, no press conferences, no autographing sessions, nothing. 10:00 pm was the earliest you both would get home.

…Wait.

You wake up at around 8 am to get ready for your own job every morning. Whenever you do, Dice isn’t even home. He’s already left for work. But you know that Dice takes a freakishly long time to get ready in the morning.

…Just how early does he wake up every morning?

You had asked him before. He blushed, shook his head, and told you not to worry about it, giving you that charming smile that makes you swoon like all the others.

“Don’t you fret about all that, babydoll! It’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine, I assure you. Besides, if I ever need a break during the day, I can get one.”

But if you’re being honest, you are worried about him. He can’t get much sleep with these kinds of work hours. And truth be told, he wasn’t.

Recently, there have been many nights where you both ride home in the limo, and instead of playing around with you, Dice is sound asleep on your shoulder. Not that you mind at all, you’re happy to be his makeshift pillow until you can get him into bed.

Those nights, you help him out of the car, and guide him to your suite. The poor man is barely conscious, and leaning heavily on you for support.

Once you finally get him to your bedroom, you sit him on the bed, helping him take off his suit and waistcoat. He’s barely awake as you slip some comfortable silky pajamas over him.

You gently nudge him so he lays down, before heading off to the bathroom to grab makeup wipes. When you come back, he’s already passed out. You fondly wipe away his makeup for him, before changing and climbing into bed yourself.

In the end, it’s so nice to just relax and fall asleep next to your husband. Sometimes, that’s all you really need.

Sometimes.

Other times, your body has different ideas. Annoying ones.

You groan softly as your eyes flutter open, the darkness of night greeting you. The only light that flooded in the room was from the full moon outside, peeking in through the large bedroom windows.

You roll over and shut your eyes again, trying to get back to sleep. The new position doesn’t help. You pull the blankets over your head. Nothing. God, this is frustrating.

Defeated, you lift your head from the covers and sigh. Guess you won’t be getting sleep any time soon. But now, you’re in a predicament.

It’s 2 am. You have hours of time on your hands. There’s nothing to do, because it’s dark outside, and you don’t want to turn the lights on and risk waking your exhausted husband.

Wait… your husband.

Your head turns slightly to look at him, and your heart fills with adoration at the sight.

He’s sound asleep, snoring quietly and laying on his stomach. Your lips form a gentle smile as you watch the steady rise and fall of his chest, admiring him. The way his face is snuggled against his pillow. The slight mumbles he makes every once in a while.

Dice is adorable when he sleeps. You’ve never seen the man so… so calm. So relaxed. It makes you wish he had more time to himself. You want to see him like this more often.

Maybe there’s one blessing that comes with waking up in the middle of the night for no damn reason.

You turn on your side to face him, grinning as you rest your hand over his. He senses your touch and reflexively shifts closer to you, yawning and wrapping an arm over you to pull you closer.

His head leans against your shoulder as he settles, sighing softly. You kiss the top of his head, smiling fondly.

Dice is clingy in his sleep. It’s something cute that he doesn’t even know he does. Your little secret.

You rarely talk about Dice’s sleeping habits to spare his ego, but you think the little vulnerable moments he has are adorable.

Whenever Dice is taking a nap or you wake up in the middle of the night, you get to watch over him. You enjoy the way he’ll sometimes search for you, immediately shifting towards you when he finds you in the bed.

You love the way he wants to be near you. When he cuddles you, you love the vibrations in his chest when he snores softly. You love the gentle mumbles he offers every once in a while. You love the way he smiles when you rub his back, or kiss his cheek.

You love him. God, you love him. You’re extremely happy to be the only one he’ll sleep next to. The only one he’ll allow himself to be vulnerable around. You’re the only one he will truly be himself around.

It seems trivial to him. Like it’s not a big deal. He doesn’t understand why you are so in awe over the fact that he trusts you.

“You’re my spouse, darling. My true love. Of course I’d be myself around you, it’s what you deserve. I’m not gonna let you be married to something fake. I trust you.”

That’s the key for you. Trust. He trusts you not to judge when his professional face comes off. He trusts you enough to joke around. To goof off with you. To make love to you. To sleep next to you.

Trust. That’s probably the greatest gift he could ever give you.

You smile and pull the blankets up slightly, covering yourself and your husband. Sighing softly, you close your eyes, wondering if you’ll be able to sleep now that he’s close to you.

…10 minutes pass. You’re still wide awake. Dammit.

You’re getting irritated now, but you’re also feeling something else. That feeling grows as you rub your hand over Dice’s side, trying to get even closer to him.

Ah, that’s it. You’re needy.

You need him to satisfy you. To touch you. To make love to you.

Right now.

You feel a bit bad for wanting to wake him when he’s tired, but you just can’t get that feeling to settle. He’s the only one who can help you right now. Surely he wouldn’t mind if you woke him up for this purpose, right?

Your hand travels to his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades. Your other hand makes its way to his chest, drumming your fingers against his skin. You call out to him softly, not wanting to startle the man.

“King…” you murmur quietly. You wait a moment. Nothing.

You nuzzle closer to him, clinging to him. Your hands rub over his biceps, trying to coax him awake. No luck.

Dammit, he sleeps like a rock.

You huff slightly and tightly wrap your arms and legs around him, clutching onto him. You need him awake and inside of you before you lose your mind.

Dice finally groans sleepily when you shake him slightly and call out to him again, a little louder this time.

“King Diceee?”

“Mmm…wha?”

Your head snaps towards him. His head is lifted slightly off the pillow in alertness, but his eyes are closed. You finally notice the slight rings underneath, and you feel a bit bad again.

Too late now, he’s awake. This is your chance. You need to act fast.

“Dice, I need you.”

“Mm..? Wha’s the matter?” He mumbles sleepily, his words slurring slightly.

“I know this isn’t the ideal time..” you start, realizing that it is quite literally 2:30 in the morning. “But I’m needy, and the feeling won’t go away. Could we have a quick round? Right now?”

“Mmmm….” Dice moans tiredly, shaking his head as it rests back on his pillow. “Sweetness, I’m exhausted…” he yawns. “I… I don’t think I can even stay awake for much…”

You notice him trail off as he starts to fall back asleep again. Shit.

But you’re not gonna give up. You won’t be able to sleep otherwise, and you really don’t feel like dealing with sleep deprivation at work. You need to be satisfied.

You need to keep your husband awake. You need to convince him to help you out.

When you shake him again, Dice groans sleepily and rubs his eyes. You look up at him as he finally blinks his eyes open (barely), and glowers down at you.

“Doll, please… I need to get up in a couple hours.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for waking you…” you start, rubbing his back. Maybe you should take things a little slower.

“Could we at least cuddle closer for a little while? Maybe kiss a few times?” You coo, giving him the puppy dog eyes. Not that you’d need them. He loves to fondle you no matter how tired he is.

Dice’s frown fades away as he chuckles tiredly, embracing you and pulling you into his chest. You immediately squeeze closer to him, looking up as he kisses the top of your head.

“Now that is something I can manage, baby. You know I’ll never say no to holding you.”

You smile at his words, leaning up and pressing your lips onto his. He deepens the kiss, cupping your face and moaning softly into your mouth.

Okay, now he’s just teasing you, moaning like that. You’re going crazy. You lean deeper into him, your hands hungrily clutching his back.

Dice’s arms pull you until you’re squished right against him, draping his leg over you. He’s so warm. So comfortable.

You need to turn him on. You let out a pleasured whine, holding onto him and bucking your hips against his crotch.

Your hands snake down to his groin, and you start massaging the bulge growing beneath the fabric of his boxers and pajama bottoms.

Dice yelps in surprise and instinctively pulls you tighter, nipping at your neck. You purposely moan loudly, pulling the clothing down and pumping his length.

Your husband growls slightly, pulling away and forcing you to look him in the eye as you fuck him with your hand.

“Look at you, trying to get a rise out of me… and it’s working… you must really need it bad, huh sugar?”

You nod eagerly and lean towards him, wanting to kiss him again. You need him terribly.

Lucky for you, now he needs you just as much. Your attempts to turn him on were more than successful.

“You’re in luck tonight, baby. I’ll give you what you want, if you promise to behave~” Dice is smirking down at you, lust and hunger in his eyes as he crashes his lips onto yours.

You shudder excitedly, grinding your clothed crotch against his dick. Your husband is certainly awake now as he runs his hand down your side, tugging your pajama bottoms and underwear down.

He smiles into the kiss as he positions himself right over your hole, breaking his lips from yours to admire your sweaty, panting face as you whimper for him to make love to you.

“Please, King… please, I need you inside me… I’ll be good and behave, I promise~”

“What an adorable little thing you are… alright doll, I’ll satisfy you~”

You shriek in delight as he slowly slips inside you, moaning loudly and digging your nails into his shoulders. Fuck, he’s driving you nuts. That rough, sleepy voice of his. The way his cock fits you perfectly. His hands running over your sides, securing you in his hold.

Holy shit, you were horny.

And now, your husband is being so gracious and helping you out. Even when he’s tired, and needs to sleep. He’s doing this for you. He wouldn’t even consider doing this for anyone else. They’d be lucky if they didn’t leave with a black eye from daring to wake him up.

But you’re different from anyone else. You are his spouse. His partner in crime. The love of his life. And he would do anything to make you happy, no matter the cost. No matter how big or small the deed. He’s yours.

He begins to thrust into you, and boy do you sing for him. You are a symphony of moans and whines as he pushes in and out of you, finally relieving you of your sexual needs.

He’s taking such good care of you. He isn’t rough with you, he isn’t trying to pound into you to chase his own release. He’s taking it nice and slow. Just how you want him to this time.

He’s tired, you’re tired, and you both just need some soft lovemaking to help you sleep the rest of the night.

Dice knows that. And he delivers.

With every thrust, your husband nibbles at your neck and collarbone, mumbling sweet praises to you as he works.

“You’re being so good, babydoll. I don’t even care that you woke me up anymore… fuck, you fit around me like a damn glove. I love you so much, honey~”

God, that VOICE. It’s deep and thick from sleep, laced with lust and confidence. You probably would have found a way to get off just by him talking to you.

You whine loudly in pleasure and throw your head back, clutching onto him as you grit your teeth. Each push he makes drives you closer and closer to insanity. He’s so good at this, you’ll never get over it.

His lips trail upwards from your neck, finding yours and connecting. He lovingly wrestles his tongue with yours, quickly claiming dominance and earning another pleasured cry from your throat.

The little noises you make drive him mad, unbeknownst to you. He loves the way you feel on his cock. The way you moan into his mouth, encouraging him to continue. He loves to satisfy you. To see you come undone in his arms, just from a few pushes.

You’re adorable. You’re incredible. He wouldn’t trade you for the world. He loves you.

Your voice interrupts his thoughts.

“K-King! Oh, KING! I’m close, baby! Please! I’m gonna cum-!”

Dice smiles lovingly, continuing to make out with you and thrusting slightly harder into you to help you reach your climax. Getting close himself, he groans into your mouth:

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m getting close too. You don’t have to ask for permission. Cum. Cum for me. And please, be vocal while you do it~”

You follow his request to a T. Once you hit your climax, you screech into his mouth, your fluids exploding from your genitals and dripping over his length. Your pajamas along with his are definitely gonna be hit with your fluids, but you both are too tired and too turned on to give a fuck.

Once you start your orgasm, Dice is not far behind at all. He bites your lip and growls loudly as he shoots his spent into you, stuffing you so much your stomach actually expands a little to make room.

God, he was full. And his seed inside you gives you a comfortable warmth that you wouldn’t be able to get with just cuddles and blankets. It feels surreal. Incredible.

You both smile at each other, breathing heavily. He makes no move to pull out of you. You make no move to get off of him. You’re so warm. So comfortable. So sleepy… you don’t want to change your position.

The only thing Dice does is hug you closer, pulling the blankets up more so your shoulders are covered. He finishes with a gentle kiss on your cheek and a yawn, his eyes slipping shut as he mumbles drowsily:

“I love you so much, sweetheart… I hope this was enough to help you sleep tonight.”

You smile through half lidded eyes as you watch your husband doze off, gently stroking the side of his head with your thumb.

You’ll be able to thank him properly when you both are more awake. But for now, both he and you are content with just holding each other. You enjoy the feeling of his cock still inside of you, keeping both him and you warm. You enjoy the security of his hold.

The sensations combined with your exhaustion are enough to help you start drifting off, but before you sleep, you murmur one last thought:

“I love you too, baby. Thank you for helping me. I promise I’ll make it up to you another night.”

And if there’s one thing for sure, it’s that you always keep your promises.

[sunshineistyping]

Hi Sunshine, I've become a big fan of your Au's and I wanted to request a romantic yandere sun and moon drop x reader. However, if you're more comfortable writing just one of them, that's fine too. Thanks for you're amazing work as well❤️

Oh gosh thank you! As always, I’d be happy to do that for you!

Honey

Pairing: Sunnydrop/Moondrop X GN!Reader

If Moon calls you Lamb, Sun calls you Honey. I don’t make the rules✨

Mostly focused on Sunny, but Moon is explicitly mentioned!

Au: Yandere AU

Warnings: Mention of Violence, Mention of Abuse, Toxic Relationships

———————————————————————

You weren't going to lie, Sunny had freaked you out from the beginning. It wasn't even just his constant staring or his desperate need to trail after you. It was the tight grasp he had on you. It was honestly the weirdest fucking thing ever. He always clung to you like if you walked too far you'd abandon him and it completely freaked you out. It got to a point that if you tried to gently tug him off, he would growl. Yes, growl! Like a fucking wild animal! Now that you’d been living in his care for the past few months you finally understood why. He was obsessed with you in a way that wasn't healthy in the slightest. The kind of obsession that made you feel violently ill. The kind that only an absolute psychopath could fully understand and it drove you nuts. How had he chosen you? Were you just unlucky? Did lady luck hate you?

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry, I’m not going to hurt you! I promise Honey, you believe me right? I’d never ever hurt you!” You shivered as the Sun stared down at you. He says he wouldn’t hurt you, and yet, your bruises beg to differ. You’d managed to escape. You’d been free and he found you again. Why did he always find you again. Why must he always bruise you up, did he get his kicks from your suffering? Was he not aware of how fragile you were in comparison to him?

“Moon does.” The Sun froze at the mention of his other half but made no further move to comfort you. For a second you worried you angered him. However, he simply shook his head and sat in front of you. He was keeping eye level to not look intimidating to you anymore. Was it the Moon comparison? Did he want to be the favorite? Not that favoritism is possible when you’re trapped between two psychos but whatever. If you had to choose it probably would be Sun though. At least Sun doesn’t tear into you like paper.

“It’s...It’s complicated. We’re not really the same! He’s rough with you, I know, but I’m not! I’d never do anything to hurt you. I love you.” A prompt to say it back, oh god. You felt sick as you turned your head down. Would you really have to say it back? You felt his stare on your skin, waiting, and waiting. He wanted you to say it back.

“I can’t.”

“What’s that Honey?”

“I can’t say it, please don’t make me say it.”

“Say what, Honey?” The darker drawl in his tone said it all. You were going to say it or he was going to punish you. Would he take away your sleep? Your food? Was it enough to make him steal away comforts and connection to others? Would he make you isolated again? Fuck, you wish it was easier to decide these things.

“I- Nevermind.”

“Alright good, now, what were you going to tell me?” He dragged you right back to the beginning. He really knew how to stay determined. Would it be possible to make him happy enough that you’d be rewarded? Should you try it? I mean there’s nothing bad that will happen right? It’s Sun, at most he’ll take away something small, it wasn’t a major offense. At least it wasn’t the same level as when you ignore his I Love You’s.

“Hey, Sunny?”

“Yes?”

“I love you too, and uhm, I think I always will.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.” There was silence for a moment and then...he started to laugh. It was a small laugh at first that gradually grew until even his voice box was glitching. A hand on his chest and the other on his face while he cackled. It was just plain creepy. His entire body shook with the force of his laughter until finally he slowed down, eyes finding you once again as his laughter slowed. He did something you would never forget, never. It was ingrained in your mind and would torture you for the rest of your life. The lights flickered for only a moment, yet his eyes glowed the same red that Moons did. The eerie feeling making your head spin.

“A humans forever isn’t enough My Love. It will never be enough. I need you in life and in death, for eternity. A human life is so so short, so so very short. Don’t you worry your little head though. I’ll find a way to make you everlasting.”

He wanted to trap you in his personal hell forever, and something told you even if you said no. You didn’t have a choice.

———————————————————————

[writtenjewels]

Genie part 2

Part One

Salim could not understand this human at all. Every other human who woke him thrilled at the idea of three wishes. It didn't usually take them long to make the first wish, and sometimes only a few days before all three were used and Salim was back to sleep in his vase. There were occasions when the humans would wish something that eventually displeased them, or they made wishes by accident, but Salim never encountered one who was so openly hostile without even making the first wish.

Jason left the room, leaving Salim there to take stock of his surroundings. It was a fairly small room. It had a single bed and nightstand, a chair and a television set, a bathroom barely big enough to fit the toilet and shower, and a window looking out to the street below. This had to be a temporary lodging, Salim reasoned. Jason returned some time later and was annoyed to see Salim.

“Fuck. I thought I made you up.”

“Have you thought of a wish, Jason?” Salim asked.

“Quit harpin' about that,” the other snapped. “I told you already I ain't gonna get tricked. And you know what else? I tracked down the guy who sold me your vase and he don't even remember havin' it!”

“It was only his long enough so it could come into your hands,” Salim reasoned. “Magic often has that way.” Jason contemplated this for a moment.

“So this happen to you every time? Your vase just goes around until it finds someone to rub it and wake you up?”

“Yes. I have dreams of the world around me so it isn't so jarring when I wake.”

“How long were you asleep before I woke you?” Jason wondered. Salim tried to think about the last time he woke up.

“Five years, I think.” Jason let out a whistle, his eyebrows raised. “If you wish it, I could show you images of the past,” Salim offered. “Some humans like that.”

“Yeah, I bet you got a phone booth in your vase somewhere.”

“Where would I even keep--” Salim paused when he caught the wry smile on Jason's lips. “Oh, you're messing with me.”

“Guess your dreams don't tell ya everything about the world,” Jason smirked. Salim couldn't help smiling a little, too, feeling a strange little flutter in his heart. It was the same feeling he got when Jason called him pretty.

He wasn't the first human to comment on Salim's looks but something about the way Jason said it felt different. Like his mouth had overridden his brain for that moment. And then there were the moments when Jason would look at Salim and huff, like he was upset for noticing Salim's looks. That was different, too.

“So is that your wish?” Salim focused back on the present moment. “Do you wish to see the past?”

“Nope. Sounds like a waste when I can just look at some pictures or watch a goddamn movie. Why're you so gung-ho about me making wishes, anyway?” Jason demanded. “Don't you go right back in your vase when it's all done?”

“Well, yes, but... it's my duty.”

“You can stand to not grant wishes for a while,” Jason assured him. “Stretch your legs, soak up some sun, eat somethin', I donno.”

“It sounds like you want to be rid of me,” Salim noted, “but even if you throw my vase away, it will return to you until I've granted your third wish.”

“That magic is fuckin' nuts,” Jason sighed with a shake of his head. “But that ain't why I'm sayin' this. You just sound so damn eager to get right back in your vase after bein' in there for five fuckin' years. I figured... I donno, you'd wanna enjoy bein' out for a while first.”

“Oh.” Salim ran his fingers along his bracelets. He really didn't understand this human. The man kept going from angry to friendly. “I can try it,” he agreed. “And then you'll make a wish?”

“Let's get one thing straight here,” Jason said. “I ain't makin' any wishes. This is the last time I wanna hear you ask me about it.” Their eyes met briefly before Jason looked away.

If he is so unhappy I'm here, why wouldn't he wish things just to put me back in the vase? Salim wondered. Doesn't he understand that I can't leave him until then?

[littledreamybeth]

Secret Love Song

A/N: This was a hard nut to crack, really. I’m still not happy with the result but I let you decide. I’m sorry if the story is a bit rushed, I usually wanted to keep it short while trying to make sense. I would be happy about likes, shares (it’s again NOT showing in the tags), comments :)

For entertainment purposes only. Story revolves around arranged/forced marriage, mentions of weapons, violence and sexual intercourse. Read on your own account.

Y/N was watching the sun rise, bathing the city in front of her with golden morning light. She wished she had wings so she could fly high up and touch them, let them bless her with hope. Because right now she had no ounce of hope left in her. Her eyes drifted to the alarm clock beside the bed, and the faster time hit twelve, the closer she neared toward her inevitable doom. The diamond ring that adorned her finger felt heavy in a way she couldn’t lift it. Or maybe her brain was playing tricks on her. She longed to rip it off and never wear it again. Because it had made her lose her freedom.

The young woman had known that arranged marriages were a thing in some cultures, but she had never expected it to happen to her one day. That she’d been taken away the choice of deciding who’d she like to be with. It was 2022, who could have known?

Her father, a rich, dominant CEO of a prestigious company and an infamous asshole, had thought it was an awesome idea making allies with another rich family by marrying off his daughter. His poor excuse had been, “It had to be done.” Besides, the son of that family apparently had an eye on her the entire time, and her father had been smitten with him too. Y/N could only shake her head. She knew her old man well enough to claim he’d do anything for financial profit. You cannot guess how many dirty deeds he’d already committed in order to get what he wanted.

Now Y/N was stuck with somebody she barely knew anything about, whereas her heart had already been conquered by another man.

The man who slept peacefully on the bed behind her. Harry.

The memories of the night prior came flooding back, overwhelming her senses. The last night she would ever spend with him. It had been draining, nerve-wrecking but passionate, nonetheless. They held each other tight until they fell asleep. If you knew how tight it was.

When Y/N announced the news to Harry, both of their worlds came crashing down. The musician was heartbroken, if not depressed for a while. Y/N felt miserable as well, crying herself to sleep every single day. Each cell in her body refused the idea of that marriage, despised it, resented it.

Her father did not approve of their relationship, unless it was meant friendly. Y/N had wondered why, but it slowly sank in that Mr. Y/L/N had planned this marriage a long while ago. But Y/N being too infatuated couldn’t keep her fingers away from the charming and charismatic man. So Harry and her agreed on having a secret relationship.

Y/N shifted her gaze from the sun to her love.

The corners of her mouth quirked up slightly, forming a smile, and her soul felt ten times more at ease.  All her worries washed away by just sparing a single glance at him. It had always worked like that. Whenever she felt like she was crushed under the weights of her merciless life, it had been those enchanting green eyes or that handsome face she had to look at in order to not fall apart. He gave her the strength she couldn’t conjure up on her own. He was her rock. Her everything. The man she loved unconditionally but unfortunately couldn’t keep for the rest of her life.  

She wished she was confined to this apartment with him forever. At least she wouldn’t have to feign happiness. She wouldn’t have to face people who managed making her life miserable. And the man she was unwillingly betrothed to, the man she could never love, he would have no chance in laying his fingers on her. A picture perfect world from her perspective, however, a fairy godmother who granted her three wishes did not exist in reality. Her fairy tale with a happy ending would never become true. It is what it is.

Had Y/N tried searching for solutions to dodge her relentless fate? Yes, more than she could count on her fingers. Her cruelest idea was faking her death so that she could elope with Harry to places he wanted to take her, but she didn’t dare implementing her thought for two main reasons: Firstly, she was afraid her cover could blow up eventually no matter how careful she’d be, and she did really not want to imagine the repercussions of her actions, and secondly, there was her mum. She could care less about that piece of shit she called father, who’d forced her into this marriage without her consent, but her mum was different. She needed her daughter’s protection because she couldn’t stand her ground against her awful husband. Y/N grew up in a household where violence had been a part of the daily routines. All done by the man she loathed- her dad. Back in her childhood, she had watched her mother being beat to unconsciousness by that monster, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Because she had been weak to protect her mother. She’d been carrying the guilt of those days ever since, and now she planned to make sure it never happened again. She’d willingly turn into her father’s punching bag. As long as he did not raise his hands against his wife.

All those horrible experiences had glued both women together. Y/N had a very close relationship with her mother, she was her best friend, and besides, she didn’t dare inflicting the pain of child loss on her beloved mother, who’d been nothing but caring and giving her whole life. The two of them would sacrifice everything for each other’s wellbeing, even if their own happiness was on the line.

Y/N took a deep breath until every inch of her lungs were filled with fresh air, then slowly exhaled.

“Everything is going to be just fine,” she murmured. It was a lie she told herself everyday. Rehearsing and repeating until she believed it herself. What other choice did she have?

When the chilly autumn air became hard to endure and goosebumps arose on her skin, she closed the large windows and returned to the bed, crawling under the sheets. She hooked her arm around the naked torso of her lover and rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeats thudding against her ear. Occasional snores left Harry’s mouth, making Y/N giggle.

Her gaze fixated the signature carved with dark ink on his right rib cage. It was her initials. She let her pointer finger drawing circles around that area. She remembered how elated and full of love she was when he had showed her the tattoo. Everything had been alright back then. Now it was disastrous.

Her gentle touch caused the British man to slowly wake up. He mumbled something unintelligible, stirring in his position, draping his arm over Y/N’s frame and pulling her in before opening his eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said. The deep tune of his voice sent shivers down Y/N spine. “You’re up, already?” He checked the time. One the other side, he wanted to find out how much time remained until he had to say goodbye.

He had four hours.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I watched the sun rise. Y’know, to calm my nerves.”

“Did it work?”

“It worked when I looked at you.” Y/N confessed. She interlocked her hand with his. A pregnant pause followed, in which Y/N allowed Harry to properly wake up, before it was interrupted by the young woman.

“You’ll be there tonight, won’t you?” She played with his rings.

Harry smiled assuringly, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything else. I promise to show up.”

“I’m sorry I’m asking this of you. It’s not fair making you suffer like that.”

He kissed her temple tenderly. “Y/N, I care about you. Of course I’m gonna be there and provide the mental support you need. There is no way I’m leaving you alone on this big day.”

Big day. Was it that really?

She swallowed hard. “You don’t deserve this.”

“You don’t either.”

“Harry, I don’t think I can do this,” she croaked, her voice trembling and panic starting to develop in the pit of her stomach.

“Yes, you can,” Harry insisted, even though his heart shattered into pieces. How could it not when he had to watch the woman he loved and adored become the wife of a man that was not him? When the essence of his happiness was cruelly taken away from him? Yet he was encouraging her to follow this path. “You will walk into that room like a badass with your head and chin held high like the queen you are. Pretend if you must. But I’m sure you can do it because you have so much more in you than you think. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

Y/N sighed, “I wish I could put my moral principles aside and just cheat on him instead.”

“That’s basically what you’re doing right now, sweetheart. Where are your moral principles, hm?”

“Freak…” she mumbled. “Harry…”

“Yes?”

“I will miss this. I will miss us…”

“You know you’re always welcome, my love. My doors and my heart will always be open for you.”

“Yes, as friends. Such a shame you don’t start affairs with married women,” Y/N commented.

“What can I say? I’m a decent man with integrity.” He earned a light slap on his shoulder for that remark.  

“Can you tell me a lie?” Harry knew exactly what she was implying to. He had been doing this ever since the marriage announcement.

“You won’t marry him. Instead, we’ll be together. I’ll travel with you around the world, take you to different arenas where you will dance your ass off. I’ll let you pursue your dreams. Then, when the time’s right, I’ll go down on my knee and propose to you. We’ll marry, have wonderful little children and live happily ever after.”

The air suddenly felt heavy, it was barely possible to breathe. Harry tried diverting her attention from tonight’s event to something else. She was still with him now. There was no need spending the remaining hours with negative feelings. So for the next two hours, they talked about this and that. It felt good to laugh, to joke, to be free from any worries. To be wrapped in Harry’s arms.

“Will you love me goodbye?” Y/N asked before the clock struck eleven. She said it so desperately and vulnerable, Harry could only oblige. So, he switched positions with her, him hovering over the young woman. His lips explored every inch of her being, savoring her taste for the final time. It was certain that this moment was the most bittersweet from all moments shared.

The late breakfast after the quick shower prevailed in silence. The couple didn’t know what they could say to each other anymore. They had told each other what had to be told.

The clock struck twelve and a knock was heard on the door as Y/N was fixing her hair and outfit.

She turned to Harry who was beside her all the time.

“I think this is my cue to leave,” Y/N said. I don’t want to go.

“Yes, I believe so.” Please stay.

“Will you walk me out?” Is it really over?

Harry nodded his head.

Their legs automatically steered them toward the front door and at the same time, toward their end. No matter how hard they tried fighting against it, all they did was finally surrender. Their story ended here and now, although there had been so many blank pages that could’ve been filled. So many dreams that could’ve been chased together. But fate had other plans for them. Former lovers turned into friends- that’s what the world would see. Friendship. Their hearts, on the contrary, would always be occupied by each other. Until death.

Y/N grasped the doorknob and opened the door. In front of her stood a good-looking man dressed in a black suit and white shirt. She could see the outline of a gun underneath his jacket. His name was Miles, Y/N’s bodyguard and most importantly, loyal friend. They’d known each other for years and had each other’s backs just as long. She knew she could trust him, and that Miles would never disclose anything about her secret to her parents. He was the only male friend she had who had been privy to their relationship from the start.

Miles shot Y/N a compassionate smile. He knew how hard leaving was for her. He had witnessed it too many times already. He also knew tonight was the beginning of her biggest nightmare. An irreversible choice that bounded two people who actually weren’t meant to be together and destroyed the future of a couple in love. “I’m ready whenever you are, miss.”

“A second, please,” Y/N asked exhausted. Then she faced her lover behind her who had his eyes trained on her, watching her, taking all of her in because he was aware that this moment was the last they’d ever share. Once she was out of that door, there was no intimacy anymore. No fervent kisses shared, no lovemaking, no touches, no secret meetings. Simply nothing.

Y/N’s insides churned and burned, screamed in agony- she was slowly but securely falling apart. How could she let go of the man who carried her on his bare hands? The tears in her eyes became harder to control. She stepped forward, crashing against his chest. She held him tight like her life was dependent on him. As if he could rescue her from drowning. Because inwardly she did.

“I love you,” she repeated like a mantra.

The British man ran his finger through her soft hair, making her face him once again. He absorbed every detail of her gorgeous face, every perfection and imperfection, before leaning his forehead against hers. Y/N felt his breath on her lips.

“I’ll be there for you, forever and always,” Harry whispered. “Chin up, my love. You’ve got this.”

He kissed her sinfully as a bittersweet farewell.

When Y/N was brought to her car, Miles had steadied her all the way down because the young woman looked like she was going to collapse. She was numb and full of void. Full of pain.

Miles started the engine, and they drove off. His friend, whom he escorted back home, did not look back at the apartment where she had made unforgettable memories. Not one bit. Instead she asked her bodyguard, “Miles, could you please turn on “Secret Love Song” by Little Mix?”

Before the song could even reach its chorus, Y/N bawled her eyes out, sobbing and screaming so loud that her friend in front of the steering wheel felt ashamed for following orders. The crying woman tugged at her hair desperately, wanting to rip them off so that she’d look ugly enough to make her future in-laws not want her. But she wouldn’t. She would oblige instead. Do what her father demanded. Marrying a man she never wanted. Who could now, if not her dad, free her from her misery?

***********

The gallery was full of influential, rich people. Some of them Harry did recognize because he’d met them before, and some of them he had never seen in his life. People who knew him would ask in what kind of relation he stood with Y/N, and he’d repeat that they were friends. He had retreated to an abandoned high table somewhere at the center and watched the engagement party unfold in front of him. He had stumbled upon Miles before, having a quick chat with him.

All he did was now waiting for the love of his life to join the guests. His heart already raced in anticipation. Probably more than that idiot.

And when she did, he couldn’t rub off that boyish grin from his face. She came down the long stairs from the floor above them.

She wore a plain white jumpsuit with one shoulder cape sleeve, which emphasized her curves perfectly, and matching high heels. Her luscious wavy hair fell effortlessly down her shoulders. Her makeup was kept minimal, yet it was enough to accentuate her beauty. The golden accessories on her skin completed her look. Overall, she looked like a goddess. Breathtaking.

He grinned even wider when he spotted the golden charm bracelet he had bought for Y/N on her wrist. A reminder that she was thinking of him, even on her own engagement party.

Y/N descended those stairs as if she was confidence in person. Just as he had told her, she held her head high. She smiled at everyone, and if Harry didn’t know better, he would believe that she was indeed very happy. But it was just a mask. A farce. He had to give it to her though- she was pretty convincing.

Her future husband was already waiting for her at the end of the stairs, and when Y/N finally approached him, the man took her hand into his and whirled her around as if she was a trophy he’d like to show off.

Harry vision got slightly dizzy when the male in front of him snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her toward his side, and Harry surely had the urge to puke when he placed a kiss on her cheek. The expression on Y/N’s features immediately changed into that of distaste, but she quickly composed herself.

“Can I have everybody’s attention?” Y/N’s father called suddenly. He held a glass of champagne in his right hand. Meanwhile, waiters and waitresses were strolling around and distributing champagne for each guest.

“Thank you so much for being here tonight. It really means a lot to us. I never thought my darling daughter would find the perfect husband until she met Aaron. He’s a good guy, I’m sure of it. So, I’d like to speak a toast for the young couple. May their love blossom and thrive forever! Cheers!”

‘Fake piece of shit,’ was all the British man could think about. ‘Why don’t you tell them the truth?’

There were just a few split seconds where the young woman had found him in the crowd and their eyes met. And they spoke volumes. Longing, pain, love. Hopelessness.

“Chin up,” he mouthed at her and smiled gently.

She nodded.

Harry didn’t look away when Aaron kissed Y/N out of nowhere. He clapped and cheered with the invited guests.

All while thinking, “And nobody knows I’m in love with someone’s baby…”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Patience (7)

Summary: There's now an official announcement of your relationship with Bruce Wayne out there. Alfred bullies Bruce affectionately into a interview and photoshoot. The big final court hearing is just around the corner and Bruce insists on coming with you. The press gets their first look at the new couple.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 1.3k

Rating: G

Warnings: fluff, kissing, adoption, press people

A/N: trying to decide if there should be smut in this story or not. I like the cute vibe, but Bruce fucks. So... well... let me know what you want lol

Patience Masterlist

By dinnertime the same day there was a quiet announcement on the Wayne Corp. Instagram account that, yes Bruce Wayne was in a relationship, yes you had taken over guardianship for a little boy who lost both of his parents in the flooding and no they wouldn’t comment on it now and urge the press to be cautious because there was a baby involved. All questions he would answer would be printed in the next issue of…

“VOGUE?” you whisper shouted as you read the post. Bruce looked like he was in pain. 

“We had to give them.. Something…” Alfred said behind him.

“And by something you mean…”

“An interview and photoshoot with Vogue,” Alfred nodded. “They have been trying to get Master Wayne for years for a photoshoot. Most eligible bachelor… or something. Well not anymore but…”

“Seriously?” you chuckled and walked over to Bruce, sitting down next to him. His arm came around you immediately, pulling you to this side. 

“You should think about going with him once I can arrange everything,” Alfred added softly. 

“Me?” your hand came down on Buce knee.

“Well… yes. Master Wayne insisted he’d go on his own but…”

“Alfred no. This is… I don’t want her in the spotlight…”

“She will be from now on. We should consider giving the press something so their curiosity is… fed.” You turned your head to look at Bruce who was giving Alfred a glare. 

“Will I be okay tomorrow? At court?” you asked. 

“I’m gonna come with you. Gabe can stay with Alfred.”

“You’ll come with me?” you asked softly, giving him a small smile. 

“Probably the worst idea ever because the press will go nuts, but yeah. I wanna come with you, if you’d like that,” he squeezed your hand.

“If I may add… there will be press coverage most likely anyway due to the Globe releasing your name to the public. So…”

“Me going there with you would give them something at least until we schedule this whole.. Vogue circus,” Bruce rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by the topic. 

You took a deep breath. 

“Okay. Better have a professional with me when dealing with.. The press. Jesus you couldn’t be like a… accountant or something huh?” you teased Bruce. 

“I wish,” he mumbled before he kissed you softly and for a small moment you forgot that you weren’t alone, melting against his lips.

“I’ll see you in the morning then,” Alfred said and you looked at him and nodded.

“Good night Alfred,” both you and Bruce said and chuckled. The butler gave you a nod and a smile before he walked out of the room. 

“Come on, I’ll bring you to your room too. It’s getting late,” Bruce said. 

“Is this your way of telling me you have to… disappear for the night again?” you asked as you looked at him from your side. 

“I… don’t….”

You kissed his cheek and he sighed, letting his head fall against yours. 

“I didn’t think you’d noticed…” he whispered. You let him pull you even closer to him. 

“Bruce, you used to sleep all day. You never joined us for dinner. And… that’s totally okay. It’s your life. I see the bruises and… I just… I just wanna make sure that you’re safe. Because… Gabe would really miss you if you’d.. I don’t know.. Disappear or something…”

“Gabe would huh?” he teased. 

“Well.. I guess I would too. A little.”

“A little?” he asked and finally looked at you, his blue eyes finding yours. 

“Yeah. A little,” you smiled before you kissed him. 

You didn’t know what made you more nervous the next morning. The final adoption court hearing, making your first appearance with Bruce outside of the tower, or… wearing a skirt in public.

Alfred had bought you a very fancy outfit for today after the lawyer had made a suggestion to dress more formally. Sadly everything that you owned that was formal (which to be honest was one dress) had been taken by the flood. 

And the few dresses you owned were more for date night than… a court hearing.

So you had fidgeted with the skirt and the expensive blouse all morning until it was time to go to the court building. Dory had volunteered to take care of Gabe until you were back later today. 

When you walked towards the living room you couldn’t help but smile as you saw Gabe on Bruce's arm. Gabe was sucking on Bruce’s tie while Dory cleaned the floor from what looked like an applesauce explosion. 

No matter how often you saw Bruce and Gabe together, it would never get old. Lately you wondered what your friends would think of you now. Would they be happy how you took care of Gabe? Would they be happy for you? You were… falling in love with Bruce Wayne, and there was no denying it anymore. 

“You look lovely,” Bruce said as he spotted you and you laughed nervously. 

“What happened here?” you asked. 

“Little Gabe does not agree with the applesauce today,” Dory sighed, but smiled. 

You opened your arms for Gabe and Bruce kissed your cheek before he handed over Gabe. 

“Little terror,” you teased the baby, your fingers teasing his side until he was giggling. 

“Chop Chop you two. The car is waiting,” Alfred came in.

“Did he just say Chop chop?” you asked looking up at Bruce. 

“Don’t question it,” he mumbled.

The car was waiting in the downstairs garage for you. Bruce did not let go of your hand until you were in the car.

“You’re nervous,” he said as the car began to drive. 

“Fucking terrified.”

“Do you regret…”

“I don’t regret it Bruce. Just… the timing maybe. The adoption hearing has been making me anxious on its own. And now the press… But… I trust you.”

“Everything is going to be fine. The lawyer said so herself. It’s just a formality. And… because of the press. Just don’t answer any questions. And don’t let go of my hand, okay?” he asked softly. You took a deep breath and nodded. 

“You look tired,” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. 

“I’m okay,” he kissed your fingers. 

“Okay,” you said. The car pulled up at the court building and you saw the swarm of photographers. You squeezed Bruce's hand. Hard. 

“Breathe,” Bruce mumbled against your ear. “And don’t let go of my hand.”

It… could have been worse. You were so in the zone on your way into the building you ignored everything happening around you mostly, letting Bruce guide the two of you into the building where your lawyer was already waiting. 

The hearing lasted only twenty minutes and now you were officially Gabe’s mom. 

Which felt… weird?

“Are you going to adopt Gabriel too, Mister Wayne?” the lawyer asked. You snapped your head around to look at her with big eyes. 

“Uhm.. That’s not.. That…” you stammered and your lawyer looked at you and then at Bruce. 

“I wouldn’t rule it out for the future if his mother and I decide it’s something that we want,” Bruce answered. Warmth spread through your chest. 

You said your goodbyes to your lawyer before you let Bruce lead you towards the doors.

“How do you feel about lunch before we get back?” he asked you. You were still thinking about what he said. He would.. Adopt Gabe? He was planning that far in the future? He really…

“Hey?” he had stopped walking and looked down at you. “Are you okay?”

“Just thinking,” you mumbled. You reached one hand up to cup his cheek.

“Let’s have lunch,” you said and he nodded. He looked around before he kissed you quickly. You smiled at him, using your thumb to brush away some of your lipstick now on the corner of his lips. 

The next day the Gotham Globe had a shot of exactly this moment on their title.

Taglist:

@kiwi-the-first / @phoenixhalliwell / @ciniluv / @blue-aconite / @daryldixonstorm / @paperflowerlace / @savannah-elliott / @stuckybarton /  @uncle-eggy / @blackwidownat2814 / @girlofchaos

[talesofstyles]

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain. 

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder. 

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment. 

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car. 

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.” 

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later. 

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald. 

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.” 

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later. 

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks. 

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off. 

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.” 

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors. 

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve. 

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING. 

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head. 

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her. 

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals. 

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom. 

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife. 

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process. 

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop. 

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache. 

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink. 

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers. 

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest. 

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room. 

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward. 

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket. 

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages. 

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side. 

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket. 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door. 

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.” 

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going. 

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him. 

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear. 

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat. 

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes. 

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt. 

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige. 

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down. 

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.” 

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching. 

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

[maswritingblog]

The Arrangement - Part Four

Summary: After their first failure, Lucy and Marcus continue with the schedule as planned and hope for the best. 

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY!), Oral (f receiving), mentions of trying to conceive, mentions of fertility, pregnancy tests (in case that is triggering for anyone) Unedited because I literally finished it and wanted to post it, so sorry for any mistakes.

A/N: Here is the next part! I hope you all enjoy it and I once again apologize for the long wait for this chapter. It’s a long one, coming in at about 7k words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucy’s phone chimed on her desk beside her, pulling her attention away from the email she was composing. She had been needing a break, her eyes starting to get tired from staring at her computer screen all morning. She took the opportunity to draft the email and sat back in her cushy office chair, unlocking her phone to view the notification.

Ovulation day!

The two words were framed by little flowers from the theme for the dumb cycle tracking app she’d downloaded a few days after she had started sleeping with Marcus. She hadn’t realized it was her ovulation day and she cursed inwardly; not only was it Tuesday, she also had to work late tonight, so spending an extra night at Marcus’s wasn’t an option.

Dammit. She sighed heavily, placing her phone back on her desk as she thought for a moment. She couldn’t afford to not stay late tonight, but Marcus couldn’t afford to lose one of the best days they had. That really only left one option…but she wasn’t sure if Marcus would agree to it, or if she was up for it either.

She debated it for a long few minutes before she decided it was a risk she was willing to take, and she grabbed her phone to send Marcus a message.

Meet me in the parking garage in five minutes. Level 8.

She hoped she wasn’t being too crazy, that he wouldn’t think she was out of her mind when she revealed her plan. Honestly, she was out of her mind for even thinking about doing something like this at work.

Marcus’s reply came back almost instantly. Everything okay?

Instead of answering, she dropped her phone on her desk and pushed her chair back. She made sure her computer was locked and secured before slipping out of her office and heading towards the elevators. She tried not to look into Marcus’s office on the way, though she knew he must be confused about the situation.

She wanted the mystery to work in her favor.

Level eight of the parking garage was one of the levels that didn’t get much traffic. It was where the extra government vehicles were parked and agents would use them occasionally when they couldn’t use the ones assigned to them. The secluded level would be perfect so long as there weren’t any agents needing a temporary vehicle.

Lucy rode the elevator to floor six and got off, walking quickly to the SUV she’d been issued for her team but didn’t get to use that often. It might as well get some use now, even if it wasn’t exactly what the big-wigs had in mind when they’d handed her the keys.

Driving up to the eighth floor, she moved down the two rows of matching black SUVs and finally parked at the end of the row on the left side. She only hoped it was far enough away that nobody would notice anything.

She tried not to think about the fact that she was slightly turned on by the idea of doing this. Maybe it was the thrill of getting caught, of the consequences of being found doing something so inappropriate on government property.

Stepping out of her car, she walked around to lean against the back end as she waited for Marcus. It only took another minute before the elevator dinged and he stepped out, looking around with a look of confusion on his face before he spotted her and headed her way.

“Lucy? What’s going on?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of her, his brown eyes searching her face for any kind of answer.

For a brief moment, she almost wanted to chicken out. It would be easy to change her mind, even if she would have to come up with an explanation as to why she had dragged him to the parking garage in the middle of the work day.

“So, it’s Tuesday,” she started slowly, trying to decide how to approach the situation.

He nodded slowly. “…yes…”

Lucy laughed lightly, more at the situation that she’d put herself in more than anything else. “It’s Tuesday, and I have to stay late tonight to work on the briefing for tomorrow. But the thing is…I’m ovulating. Today’s the highest chance for pregnancy according to my stupid app, so I didn’t want to miss the chance to try.”

As she rambled, he seemed to put it together. His eyes widened nearly comically and he glanced around the parking level as if someone would be lurking in the shadows watching them.

“You—you want to do it here?” he asked, voice laced with surprise. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

She nodded quickly. “I know it’s crazy, but this could be the day and this is the only time we’ll have to try. We don’t exactly have time to drive anywhere offsite, and I’m not about to do it in a bathroom or a supply closet where anyone could walk in. I figured this would be the best place since nobody really comes up to this level.”

Marcus sputtered, seeming to lose all ability to speak. “W-What? How—How?”

She wondered if he was flustered because he thought she was nuts, or if he liked the idea. She had to admit that the prospect of getting caught had an affect on her in a way she hadn’t realized before; perhaps it had something to do with breaking the rules.

“The back seats lay down, leaves a good amount of room in the trunk. But we don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it; I just won’t be able come over tonight and I didn’t want to miss an ovulation day.”

He was silent and she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. Sometimes she felt like she could read Marcus like a book, and sometimes she felt like he was locked in a safe and she didn’t know the combination. As he eyeballed the back of the SUV, she wondered if she had truly lost her mind when she had thought this was a good idea.

Finally, he gave her a pointed look. “Are you comfortable with this? I don’t want you to think you have to do this just for me.”

Of course, he was being a gentleman about this. Of course, he was putting her comfort above his. It was so on brand for him, and yet that didn’t stop her from being surprised by it. She appreciated it, while also wishing he would think of himself more often.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m the one suggesting this, remember?”

Marcus paused in thought for a moment, his eyes moving from the SUV to her multiple times before he finally nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He agreed.

She wasn’t sure why she was surprised, maybe because she thought public sex was a line he wasn’t willing to cross. If she were being honest with herself, it wasn’t a line she had ever imagined crossing either. Desperate times called for desperate measures, though, right? Something told her this wasn’t what the person who had coined that phrase had in mind.

“Okay.” She echoed, moving to one of the back doors and motioning for him to go around to the other side.

Pulling the door open, she reached for the lever to lower the seat on her side and watched as Marcus did the same. With the back row lying flat, there was plenty of room for the two of them to lay down, which seemed like the best way to not be spotted should anyone actually come to this level. Climbing in was a bit awkward, but they managed to get the doors shut behind them. Kneeling in the back of the SUV, they stared at each other for a beat.

“So, how do we do this?” Marcus wondered, asking the same question she had been mulling over in her head.

She didn’t know why she had to have the answer for everything, but it could have something to do with the fact that she had initiated this encounter. She had been confident about this idea when she’d come up with it, but now she found herself blanking on the next step. Perhaps she didn’t have it in her to be this spontaneous?

“I didn’t really have this all planned out…” she admitted slowly. The awkwardness felt like the first time all over again, and it almost made her laugh.

Marcus nodded. “Okay, so I don’t really want to be caught buck naked at work, so I’m thinking that we stay as clothed as possible.” He suggested.

It was something she could agree with. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. So, pants only then?”

“Pants only.”

Lucy reached down to work on her belt and he did the same. Once her pants were undone and she’d pushed them down her thighs slightly, she sat fully and started pushing them down her legs. It wasn’t the easiest task in the back of the SUV and she found she had to lay down a bit to even get them to her knees.

Marcus’s hands were gently pushing hers away then and he pulled the tight slacks down her legs.

“If I had known this was gonna happen, I would have worn a skirt today.” She joked, slipping her shoes off so he could pull her pants off and push them out of the way.

“Definitely would have been easier.” He teased as he slotted his hips between her thighs and leaned over her to press his lips to hers.

His belt was hanging open, the cool metal pressing against the skin of her inner thigh and making her jump slightly. Their tongues tangled and she wanted to run her hands through his hair the way he liked, but she didn’t want to make it obvious what he’d been doing away from his desk. Instead, she reached down and finished opening his pants for him, lowering the zipper and slipping her hand inside to palm him over his briefs.

Marcus groaned into her mouth, pressing his hips into her hand as his teeth nipped at her bottom lip and then her chin before his lips returned to hers in a heated kiss. He rolled his hips against her palm and she squeezed him gently, pulling another groan from his throat, followed by his hand grasping her wrist in warning.

Lucy chuckled against his lips, beginning to squeeze again only to be surprised by his next move.

The grip on her wrist tightened and he yanked her hand from his pants, pinning her wrist down next to her head. He pulled away to stare down at her, his chest heaving as his eyes narrowed playfully at her.

“What?” she asked in feigned innocence, stifling a laugh.

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he simply shook his head at her with a laugh of his own. He released her wrist and supported his weight on his hand next to her head, the other reaching down to begin pushing his pants and briefs down.

Taking it as a cue, she reached down to do the same with her underwear, sliding them down her legs as best she could as he pushed his down to his knees.

“Can’t believe we’re actually doing this.” He commented as he situated himself between her legs again, his erection bobbing against his stomach where he’d pulled his dress shirt up out of the way of any potential messes.

She wanted to ask him if it was as exhilarating to him as it was to her, but she thought that maybe he didn’t see it that way, that he’d find it weird that she did. She’d discovered a lot of things about herself since they’d begun sleeping together, a lot of things that excited her despite the fact that she’d never considered them in that light before. Perhaps she was more depraved than she realized.

“We don’t have to.” She reminded him, just in case he was having second thoughts. She wasn’t sure if he was given the way he was already so ready, the tip of him already leaking. Despite his body’s reaction, though, she wanted to give him the chance to back out.

Marcus’s met her gaze, and his voice came out soft despite the way his eyes had darkened with lust. “I want to.” He reassured her while silently asking if she still wanted this as well.

There was a long beat of silence as she stared up at him. She admired his handsome features, the way a lock of his perfectly styled hair had fallen onto his forehead and the way his nose curved down towards his plump lips. That single dimple that she found so endearing.

It still baffled her how he didn’t already have a beautiful wife and family.

She found herself unable to respond verbally, so she reached up to pull his mouth back down to hers.

He got the hint, pressing his body down close to hers as he reached down to position himself at her entrance. He slid his tip up and down her folds a couple of times, gathering her wetness before pressing into her slowly. He eased in until his hips were flush against hers, both moaning in unison as their lips parted, their foreheads pressed together.

There was no going back now; Lucy’s knees brushed against his sides as she hitched her legs up further on his hips, pulling him deeper inside her with a soft sigh against his mouth.

His hips drew back slowly and then he slid forward again, repeating the movement a few times. As good as he felt, as good as the slide of him inside her walls made her feel, she knew they didn’t have the same amount of time they usually did and anyone could come up to this floor at any time.

“We have to hurry.” She gasped as he filled her again.

He pulled almost completely out of her and paused. For just a moment she thought he might stop, but then he thrust forward, driving into her hard and fast, wasting no time before he did it again, and again.

Lucy clung to his shoulders, hands fisting in the material of his shirt as she held on, small and breathy moans escaping her each time he filled her. She knew his shirt might be wrinkled by her hands, but at least he could cover it with his suit jacket if he needed to. For now, all she needed to be focused on was the pleasure rolling through her with his movements, and the hope that the risk they were taking would pay off in the end.

The rhythm they had created had the SUV rocking gently; if anyone saw they would definitely know what was happening inside.

Marcus was hovering over her, supporting his weight on one hand as the other hooked under her right knee to press her leg closer to her chest. The new angle had him driving deeper inside and brushing against her just right; the slap of his hips against hers as he worked at a bruising pace only echoed by their sounds of pleasure.

One of Lucy’s hands scrambled down from his shoulder, desperate for purchase. She gripped at his side where his shirt was raised, nails biting into the skin as she rolled her hips up to meet his.

Marcus groaned above her in response to the scratch of her nails and as he thrust forward again, he took a moment to grind his pelvis against hers.

“Oh, fuck.” She gasped, reaching up to cup his jaw and pull his mouth back down to hers.

Their tongues tangled as they moaned into each other’s mouths, hips working together to get them closer to their release. Just as Lucy felt herself approaching the cliff, the ding of the elevator startled them.

They both jumped, freezing their movements as Marcus hunched over her as if he was trying to shield her semi-nude body from any prying eyes. His head lifted slightly to peek out the window and Lucy waited with baited breath for someone to catch them.

They would surely be fired if they were caught having sex at work.

Marcus’s brown eyes were locked on whoever had arrived on the parking level. The sound of voices filled the concrete structure and Lucy thought for sure things were going to end badly.

Unexpectedly, Marcus slowly rolled his hips against hers, causing her eyes to flutter involuntarily.

“Wha—?”

“Ssshh.” Marcus shushed softly, eyes not leaving the window as he pulled out slowly only to fill her again at the same pace.

Was he really doing this? As he rocked his hips again, it seemed he was.

His eyes never left the window as he moved slowly over her. She could hear voices on the parking level, although they were several vehicles away. Each push and pull of his hips had him brushing up against the sensitive spot inside her and it only served to drive her closer and closer to the edge.

Although she tried to stop it, she couldn’t completely hide the small moan that escaped her as his hips ground against hers. She knew she needed to keep quiet for both their sakes, but it just felt too good.

Marcus gently shushed her again, the tips of his first three fingers pressing delicately to her lips to keep her quiet.

God, there was something about the need to keep quiet that had her so close.

The soft thudding of car doors shutting echoed through the parking garage and Marcus used the opportunity to snap his hips against hers just a little harder, pulling another whimper from her throat as her eyes fluttered closed.

An engine started before the vehicle could be heard driving down the ramp exiting the level and Marcus pulled his hand away from her mouth, driving his hips forward as he returned to the pace they’d set before the interruption.

Lucy tried to ignore the way she missed his fingers over her lips, choosing to drag his mouth back down to hers for a heated kiss, lifting her hips to meet his hard thrusts as one of his arms wrapped around her to hold her body against his.

“Fuck.” Lucy gasped against his mouth, feeling herself once again on the precipice. One of her hands fisted in his shirt again, while the other seemed to have a mind of its own and slid around to grasp a handful of his backside as if it would help guide his movements. She couldn’t think straight, all she knew was how good he felt, and then she was tumbling over the edge with a string of moans.

Marcus buried his face in her neck, working her through her orgasm with a groan of his own at the way she pulsed around him. His arm tightened around her, fingers digging into her ribcage as his thrusts become shallow and deliberate as he desperately chased after his own release.

Lucy’s hand left his shirt, reaching up to smooth through the hair on the back of his head as if she was encouraging him to let go. Her nails dug into his backside as she gently tugged on the soft locks of hair, eliciting a moan from where he was tucked into her neck.

A little encouragement was all it took and he was there, warmth blossoming inside her as he filled her with rope after rope. He moaned slowly, nuzzling against her neck as he came down from his high.

They laid there like that for a minute or two as they cooled down, tangled up in each other despite the fact that they didn’t have the luxury of their normal wind down time. Even though they needed to get back to work before anyone noticed they were both missing, neither of them moved. Perhaps it had been the fact that they had almost been caught or that they had done this at work, but it had made this time more exhilarating, and in turn had exhausted them.

Regardless, Lucy didn’t mind a little extra time with his arms around her.

After what felt like five minutes or more, she rubbed both her hand up and down his back slowly. “We have to get back to work.” She spoke softly, her voice raw.

Marcus nodded against her throat. “Mmhmm.” He mumbled, arm squeezing around her tighter for several seconds before he slowly pulled back to look down at her, his eyes darkened with something other than lust.

Lucy’s fingers brushed over his cheekbone and she glanced at the fogged over window over their heads. “We totally missed the opportunity to recreate Titanic.” She noted with a chuckle.

He laughed lightly, brushing her hair off her forehead. “Maybe next time.” He offered, still slightly out of breath from the exertion.

Lucy raised an eyebrow at him. “Hmm…are you trying to get caught with your pants down regularly?”

“Well, I was thinking we’d park somewhere more discrete, but if you wanted to do it in the middle of the road, that’s fine too.”

She shook her head at him, rolling her eyes playfully. “As thrilling as it was to almost lose my job, I think we should stick with discretion in the future.”

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Oh, it was thrilling for you, huh?” he teased.

Another eyeroll. “Getting less thrilling by the second.”

He snickered, leaning down to press his lips against hers in a chaste kiss that quickly turned heated.

She allowed it for a few seconds before pushing against his chest. “Okay, okay, we gotta get back to work.” As much as she would have enjoyed potentially going for another round, she knew they could both only be away from their offices for so long before it became suspicious.

“I know, I know.” He sighed, taking a second before he slipped out of her and rolled onto his back, beginning to put his clothes back together.

Lucy reached for her underwear, pulling them back on before moving for her pants. It was a bit awkward trying to redress in the back of the SUV, but they quickly got themselves presentable.

“Okay, I’m gonna drive this back to where I originally parked and you can go back to your office. That way we don’t show back up at the same time.”

He nodded as he opened the car door and climbed out. “That’s probably a good idea. Don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”

She rounded the back end of the car and reached up to fix his collar before smoothing her hands over the wrinkles on his shoulders from her hands. “Well, I think they’ll probably figure it out when I get pregnant.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

Marcus paused, eyes widening slightly as he took in her words. Lucy didn’t seem to register what she’d said, adjusting her own shirt as best she could using the reflection in the car window.

“When?”

She turned at the surprise in his voice, finding his face open with awe. “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?” She teased him with a chuckle. Inwardly, she too realized that she’d said when instead of if. Maybe it was just positive thinking, or maybe she just knew it was going to work out for him. As good a guy as Marcus Pike was, he deserved to have a family and surely whatever deity reigned above would see that.

“Y-Yeah,” he swallowed hard. “I guess it was just different hearing you sound so sure about it.”

“Look, I know I’ve been sort of a Debbie Downer the last few days—”

“—No! It was rough when things didn’t work out, I understand why you were upset. I was, too. It’s just nice to hear you feeling positive again.”

Lucy grinned at him, stepping closer and resting her hands on his hips. “Well, that would be the endorphins, probably. You know, from the mind-blowing sex we just had?”

He couldn’t help but laugh in response, nodding his head in agreement. “Well, I suppose you’re right.”

“I always am.”

Stretching onto her toes, she pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss before she stepped away. If she let it go any further, they might end up in the SUV again.

“Okay, get back upstairs before someone notices.”

“As you wish.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peeing on a stick always felt so weird to her. She’d had her fair share of pregnancy scares in college, so it was nothing new, but the act of trying to land as much urine on the tip of a stick as she could was always odd. Having to stop several times to use multiple tests was just as strange, but soon she was standing in front of the bathroom sink with three pregnancy tests in front of her.

Two minutes and she’d know. Two minutes and her life would either change for the better or continue to be stressful for the short amount of time Marcus had left before his surgery.

“Are you sure it’s not too soon?” the man in question asked from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed.

She’d opened the bathroom door after she’d peed on the sticks, not wanting to wait for the results alone.

“I don’t know, these tests say you can take them as early as ten days after unprotected sex.” She said, studying the box again. “I mean, we’ve done it plenty of times since the SUV, but something about that time felt like it worked.”

“Probably just those endorphins.”

She gave him a wry look, rolling her eyes even though she knew he was probably right. She couldn’t explain it, but something about that time felt right. And, yeah, maybe it was just the rush she’d gotten from almost being caught or the fact that it had been one of their best moments together, but she still needed to check. Besides, the only harm that could come from a negative result would be disappointment, and she was already chalk full of that.

“It’s been two minutes.” Marcus said softly, breaking her from her thoughts.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer, leaning down to check the tests. Her shoulders slumped.

They were all negative.

When Marcus spoke again, his voice was closer, in the room with her. “Maybe we did it too early.” He offered softly.

Lucy sighed heavily, scooping up the tests and dropping them in the trash can with a loud thunk. This was the first time they’d tried actually taking tests—the first failure had come in the form of her menstrual cycle—and she had hoped for the kind of excitement that happened in movies all the time where the couple takes the test and see the positive result and cry in each other’s arms; that was a sham.

“Hey, hey,” He seemed to pick up on her mood shift immediately, his hands moving to rest on her shoulders. “It’s probably just too early. Don’t worry, we still have plenty of time.”

“Plenty of time? Marcus, you only have like forty days before your surgery. I thought this would be easier. Like…I know that people struggle with this stuff all the time but we’ve also been having a lot of unprotected sex. How could one of those times not have taken?”

He maneuvered her body to face him, his hands returning to her shoulders where he continued to squeeze reassuringly. “Sometimes it just takes time, remember? Don’t get so stressed out, it doesn’t help.”

“It’s hard not to be stressed when your clock is running out.”

There was a long silence between them before he perked up. “Let’s go out tonight. Blow off some steam, have some drinks. It’ll be good for the both of us.”

Lucy shook her head. “We’re not supposed to drink, remember?”

He rolled his eyes. “One night won’t hurt us, I promise. We both need to relax a little.”

For a moment, she thought about it. What could it hurt to have some fun for one night? If the stress was already ruining things for them, then alcohol could only help, right? If it loosened her up and made her less stressed, that had to help a bit. Perhaps it was a good idea.

Finally, she caved. “Okay, okay. Let’s go out.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucy couldn’t contain the giggle that escaped her as they stumbled into her apartment a few hours later. She was lingering somewhere between tipsy and fully drunk, feeling good after a night drinking away her worries; they weren’t supposed to drink while trying to conceive, at least according to all the research, but it had been nice to unwind after feeling so stressed out. Stress wasn’t good for conceiving either, so she figured alcohol wouldn’t hurt this once.

Marcus, who was equally feeling the effects of the alcohol, locked the door behind them and ushered her into the kitchen. He immediately went for the cabinet he knew housed her glasses and pulled one down, filling it with water from the faucet and taking a gulp before handing it to her.

Even wasted he was a gentleman.

Their eyes locked over the rim of the glass as she drank and she slowly lowered the glass to the countertop, eyes never leaving his. The silence was palpable, the tension in the room so thick she could cut it with a knife if she wanted to. She reached for him and he met her halfway, their mouths meeting in a searing kiss.

His hands were all over her as hers bunched in his shirt, their tongues tangling, and Lucy was reminded once again that she wasn’t as good at keeping things casual as she would have preferred. She wondered if he felt the same or if this was easier for him.

He trailed kissed down her jaw and neck, nipping at her skin gently and soothing over the spots with a flick of his tongue as she panted, a whimper escaping her as he sucked lightly on that sensitive spot beneath her ear.

He didn’t stop there. He pressed kisses to her collarbone and then her chest, moving lower until he was kneeling in front of her. His hands brushed against the skin of her thighs and slipped beneath the hem of her skirt, his eyes turning up to meet hers as he pushed the fabric until it was bunched around her hips.

She gasped as his lips pressed against her inner thigh, light as a feather as he trailed kisses upwards. In all the time they’d spent together, they hadn’t done this—they’d been more focused on getting straight to the point—and she felt like her heart was about to explode out of her chest.

Fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties, his eyes on hers once again as he began to drag them down her hips and thighs until they fell to pool around her ankles. She stepped out of them, kicking them aside as she gripped the edge of the counter in anticipation. She was already soaked.

His hand gripped underneath her left knee and he lifted the leg to hook it over his shoulder. His eyes finally left hers as he began trailing kisses up her leg from her knee until he reached the spot she wanted him most. There was a moment of pause as he seemed to take her in, before he leaned forward and dragged his tongue through her folds in one smooth stroke, ending at the bundle of nerves, which he circled slowly with the tip of his tongue.

Lucy gasped, one hand leaving the counter to thread her fingers through his hair. Her eyes fell closed as she relished the feeling.

He certainly knew what he was doing as he got to work, and before long she was moaning breathlessly as she clung to him. She canted her hips slowly against his mouth, and she wasn’t sure which she liked more: his tongue on her clit or when his tongue trailed further down and his nose rubbed against it just right.

Her right leg was shaking as it tried to support her weight as she verged on the edge, her body was on fire. She wanted to ask how he’d gotten so good at this, but she didn’t want to think about the women in his past too much either.

His tongue flicked her clit once more before his mouth closed around it and he sucked lightly. It was all it took to send her over the precipice with a whine. Her fingers tugged on his hair and she struggled to stay upright, and he gripped her hips to keep her standing as he lapped at her center and slowly brought her down from her high.

“Shit.”

Marcus chuckled against her, pulling away to look up at her once more; his face was shiny from her wetness, and he licked his lips before wiping his face on the back of his hand as he stood.

She reached for him, pulling his mouth back to hers for a kiss, tasting herself on him. That had definitely sobered her up. She could feel his hardness pressing against her hip and although her legs were shaking, the release sent a thrill through her and she reached down to quickly undo his belt.

Perhaps he was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, or maybe going down on her had sent him into a frenzy like some kind of shark, because he gripped her hips and turned her around to face the other way. As her hands landed on the countertop, she could hear his belt jingling and then the unzipping of his pants. Her teeth bit into the pillow of her bottom lip in anticipation, still amped up from her high.

The rustling of fabric told her he’d freed himself, and then his hands were on her hips; he pushed the skirt of her dress up higher and stepped closer, the heat radiating off his body sending shivers down her spine. There seemed to be a moment of hesitation and then he asked with a raspy voice: “Is this okay?”

It was something she found she really loved about him—he had already brought her to orgasm with his tongue and they’d had sex numerous times, but he was still asking if it was okay to take her from behind. Anyone else would have laughed, but she found it to be very attractive.

“Yes.” She replied, barely over a whisper at the thought of what was to come.

He nudged her feet further apart with one of his and then she felt the tip of him brushing through her folds. She leaned forward over the counter more and angled her hips better and then he was pushing forward slowly until he was fully seated inside her.

She moaned softly at the feeling, pressing back against him.

Marcus pressed his face into her hair, inhaling her scent as he remained still for a moment as if he was collecting himself, or maybe gathering the strength to continue. Then, ever so slowly, he withdrew until just the tip was left inside of her. He paused again, adjusted his grip on her hips, and then thrust forward quickly to fill her completely. He repeated the motion several times until he was pounding into her.

She wasn’t quite sure how he managed to be gentle and rough at the same time, and the pace he had chosen surprised her; not that she didn’t think he had it in him, but that it was new. If it stole the breath from her lungs, she wasn’t complaining. He mouthed at her neck and shoulder, where the thin strap of her dress had fallen down her arm. The contrast between the gentle grazing of his teeth on her skin and the brutal thrusts inside her had her weak in the knees.

“Fuck.” She moaned, doubling over to press her forehead to the countertop, relishing in the cool surface against her heated skin.

Marcus’s hands were gripping her hips tightly, his own hips meeting her backside over and over and creating a delicious noise that echoed off the kitchen tiles, the grunts and groans spilling from his lips matched her own. One of his hands smoothed up her back and he gripped her shoulder, angling his hips on the next thrust and pulling her back against him.

Lucy’s breath left her again in a string of moans as the new angle hit perfectly every time.

“Stop that racket!” a voice shouted from the other side of the wall, along with a fist pounding.

She couldn’t help but laugh at her neighbor, an elderly man who made tons of noise but hated when anyone else made even a peep. She heard Marcus chuckling behind her, but the intrusion only seemed to spur him on and his hips smacked harder against hers. It had her moaning louder, and she realized that had been his intention all along.

Though she probably wouldn’t admit it, she liked that he wanted to antagonize her neighbor.

The hand that had been at her shoulder slid down her side and around her front, dipping between her legs to circle her clit with the pads of his fingers. As she reached to grip the edge of the counter, her arm knocked into the forgotten glass of water and sent it tumbling to the floor where it surprisingly didn’t shatter. Neither one of them paid it any mind as their releases approached rapidly.

The neighbor was pounding on the wall again, but it was doing him more harm than good as the sounds echoed louder against the tiles.

“I am going to call the landlord!” the elderly man yelled on the other side.

“S-So call them!” Lucy shouted back, just as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. If the neighbor hadn’t made such a big deal, she would have tried to stifle her moans, but instead she lifted her head from where it had been resting on the countertop and let him hear it just because she knew it would infuriate him.

Marcus’s face was buried in her neck and his warm breath huffed against her skin as he laughed at her reaction. His movements were frantic, desperate, as he chased his own release and it didn’t take long for him to stiffen behind her. He pressed his body close to hers and groaned into her ear as he filled her.

They were still for a long moment, panting as they came down.

“I don’t think your neighbor likes you.” He joked, pressing a kiss to her neck.

Lucy laughed out loud, knowing it would also annoy the man in question. “I don’t really care.” She shrugged the shoulder his head wasn’t resting against.

“I’ll leave earbuds on his doormat.”

“No, let him listen. It’s probably the most action he’s gotten in decades.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a Tuesday night two weeks later that it happens. She’s reorganizing her bathroom purely due to boredom and she stumbles across a box of pregnancy tests. She peeked inside and felt her heart race a little; there was one test left.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she pulled the test out and debated using it. They had been keeping up with their schedule, meeting at his place minus a couple of times when they really wanted to annoy her neighbor. Even though the three tests she’d taken two weeks ago had been negative, it didn’t mean she wasn’t pregnant then. False negatives happened all the time if the test was taken too early.

Maybe now is the right time.

She ripped the plastic wrapper off the test and moved to the toilet, glad she hadn’t used the bathroom yet. As she finished and set the test on the sink so she could wash her hands, she glanced up at herself in the mirror.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Luce.” She whispered to herself. She knew if it came back negative, which it more than likely would, it would only hurt more.

She had to step out of the room because she knew it would only make the minutes go by slower. What was that saying? A watched pot never boils? So, a watched pregnancy test never develops? She moved to the kitchen to start putting away the dishes in the dishwasher. By the time she finished, five minutes had passed.

It was time.

“Shit.” She whispered to herself, shuffling nervously towards the bathroom.

What was she going to do if it was negative? Marcus didn’t have much time left, if it wasn’t going to happen then that would break both their hearts.

But what if it was positive? It was what they’d wanted all along, but she couldn’t help but feel her stomach flip with nerves at the idea that all their efforts had paid off. It wasn’t because she didn’t want a baby, but because she did.

The test was sitting upright on the counter, all it would take was for her to step forward and she’d know. One step forward. It was just one step.

Knowing if she didn’t do it now, she’d never do it, she stepped forward quickly and snatched the test up, lifting it to stare down at the tiny plastic window.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

It was positive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I didn’t add pregnancy on the list of warnings because I didn’t want to spoil it. But also, if you are reading a fic that is specifically about getting pregnant, that is kind of a given.

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