#and the four of them are big on Sunday dinner

[jonathanbyersphd]

Thinking about her (the mid-90s double Byler NYC apartment) again

[fingertipsmp3]

The only problem with doing exercise is that I’m now hungry ALL the time

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ smut, alcohol. lactation (heavily requested because I guess we're all fiends now?), daddy, praise kink. request(s): Mama makes a friend

"And you didn't find him?"

You shake your head. "Not until I almost ran into him on the sidewalk. I looked everywhere."

“Wow.” Cami’s eyes are wide, fixated on your story, fine stemmed champagne glass delicately balanced in her fingers. It’s empty again, like yours, and when the server comes by, you ask them for another round.

That’s the point of bottomless, right?

“You’re brave.” She quips, scooping up a bite of her eggs. “Raising a baby on your own.”

“You’re sweet.” She is. You really like Camille. She was the one who reached out a few weeks ago, when Simon and Kyle got in, and has been trying to lure you out of the house since.

So, when Kyle called Simon on Friday night and suggested he and Orion come over to watch football, Cami texted ten minutes later.

> Bottomless mimosas at brunch on Sunday? Or we could sit around and watch football for two hours. Exciting.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed… just being you. You outside of being Orion’s mother, you outside of navigating your relationship with Simon. Spending time outside of your flat without worrying about feeding or nappies or sanitizing bottles and endlessly cleaning up. Simon took a lot of the pressure off, assumed most of the workload now, but it was still hard to untangle yourself from motherhood.

Not to mention, leaving Orion for even a few hours was stressful. Simon had to nearly force you out the door this morning, over the sound of the baby’s screams. The separation had your heat beating in your ears, stomach turbulent with anxiety, only fading slowly with time as you finished one mimosa and moved to the next.

“So you’re coming to dinner right?” You blink, rapidly trying to reconcile her question with reality. Your head is a little fuzzy, limbs a little floaty, and you’re sure if you stood up right now, you’d probably be gripping the table for support with your wonky balance.

Finally, you catch up. “Right, dinner. Next weekend.” She nods.

“Uh huh…” She squeaks with a laugh. There's nothing comedic about her words, but with four mimosas in you both, everything seems a little funny. "At ours. Johnny is coming, an' their captain."

"And you're cooking?" She makes a sour face, laughing again.

"I'm gonna try."

Kyle looms at your side when Simon opens the door. He's alone, no baby in his arms, and the flat is surprisingly quiet. The smile that tips your lips upwards is uncontrollable, and you giggle as he raises an eyebrow. "Thanks Kyle." They give each other a nod, a big hand settling at your waist, guiding you inside.

The door clicks closed. You drift listlessly into him, nose at his chest, and breathe deep. He chuckles. "Hey, mama." Your lower belly flutters, rubber band twisting tight until it nearly snaps-

"Hi daddy."

Simon steers you into the bedroom with a palm on your hip, keeping you upright when you tip to the side, the dynamic of your balance hopelessly thrown askew. "Baby?"

"Went down about an hour ago without fuss." He smoothes his hands over your shoulders and down, fingers coming to rest at the top of your dress's square neckline, too full tits tied up with a bow. "How're you feelin'?"

"A little buzzed." Avid desire enflames your skin, tracing a path from the tightening of your nipples down to where your clit throbs, panties already soaked for him.

"Want to take this off?"

"Yes," you hiccup, "please." He raises an eyebrow.

"Maybe you should have some water-"

"No, no." You latch onto his wrist and pull, though all it does is bring you closer, like being on the losing end of tug-o-war, but he holds you steady, close, like always. There's orange nectar and pear spritzed prosecco on your tongue, and you press closer, voracious want crawling up your spine, overtaking your movements. The alcohol makes you bold, a trigger you've been waiting for since he's come home. One you've not been able to pull. He's curved over you, and you flex onto your tiptoes to lay your forehead against his. "P-please... take it off."

Your dress disappears quickly, leaving you standing in front of him in a pair of pale blue panties, and a bra from before you pregnant, one you tried to cram yourself into and mostly failed. Your breasts spill over the top, sore and aching since Orion hasn't fed for hours, Simon's nose skimming down your neck as he unlatches the clasp in the back. You whimper when they fall free. "Poor thing." He coos, with both in his hands, thumbs tickling over your nipples, and walks you backwards to the bed, knees hinging when you hit the corner of the mattress, body and soul turning to liquid as he lays you on your back. His eyes are dark, deep wells of longing, hungrily sweeping over the length of your body before he succumbs with a long kiss, one that drifts down, across your collarbone and to your breast, teasing around your nipple, tugging your panties to the side at the same time.

"Simon," you squirm, chasing him, desperate against his slow pace, babbling pleas filling the air. "Daddy-"

"Shhh. Easy, mama." You're soaked, can feel the heaviness of it slicked on your thighs, dewy drops damp in your curls. He swipes, circling your clit, sliding down to your hole and back up, exploring, ruining, mouth closing around your nipple as he pushes a finger deep, groaning into your flesh.

"Oh my god, oh, fuck-" you gasp. It's foreign, feeling a piece of him back inside you after so long, the breadth of his finger more than you were expecting, slowly working you open until there are two. Your head spins, delirious yet singularly focused, overwhelmed by the combination of him sucking at you and stroking inside you. It's taboo, this affliction, this satisfaction of him pulling your milk free, soothing the ache of your fullness, but you don't have a mind to care. Never have. The relief is overwhelming, tight coils building your muscles, and he dribbles some across your chest as he moves to the next, ministrations expert. You spill into his mouth, warmth dripping from the corners of his lips, his free hand squeezing, trying to milk every last drop free.

"Can't get over how good you taste, honey." You tuck your fingers into the waistline of his jeans, trying to pull him out, fumbling with his button, his zipper, until he dwarfs your hand with his, pressing your palm against the heavy hardness of his cock. "Need you to be sober for it," he murmurs gently, "want you to remember, when you take it, when I fill you up again." You gulp, your body screams. You want it now, want him inside you, but instinctively know he won't budge. He rears back, tapping your calf, "heels on the edge of the bed, mama," and sucks in a breath as he parts your knees. "Ruined your panties, sweet girl. Lift up for me." They disappear, tossed away into a dark corner of the room, and he gets to his knees. You almost close yours, want to close yours, suddenly self conscious knowing he's at eye level, seeing everything, but he chases the thought from your mind when his mouth finds your clit.

"Oh." It's the only word your brain will produce, buried beneath high pitched moans. He eats like he's starved, two fingers finding their place again, tongue flicking against your bud with a near violent pace.

"Sweet everywhere, aren't you?" He kisses the words into your cunt, vibrations of the gravel in his voice only kicking you higher, closer to the peak. "So sweet for daddy." You whine, always a little shamed by it, that word, even when you say it yourself. "My perfect girl. Y'gonna cum for me? Clench this little pussy around my fingers?" Pleasure ripples, tightens your muscles until they burn, and he shoves you into it, drags you beneath the rolling waves of an orgasm, hips chasing his tongue, his teeth thighs closing around his head, trapping him, holding him tight.

That's what you do. You hold him tight. Too tight. Hold him like it will keep him here. Keep you from losing him.

He tucks you close after, whispering something in your ear, unintelligible in your dizzied state, limp like a doll. You go easily, abated, as he settles you in beneath the blankets, waking you gently some time later for naproxen and water. You'll have to pump before Orion feeds again, and dump it, but in this moment, the only thing that matter is his chest warm at your back, his fingers tracing circles into your skin. "Sleep, mama."

[cottonlemonade]

Hi hi!! I saw your lemonade stand and I LOVE the concept omg. Can I request a medium watermelon lemonade with pomegranate seeds for Asahi?

Thank you so much if you write it !! I hope you have a great day 🩷

Sharing A Tent With His Crush

word count: 1926 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: Asahi x chubby manager!Reader

genre: fluff with spice

warning: mdni, spoilers

request: fluffy-spicy, sharing a tent with pining friend Asahi

“One, two, three, four…”

As Takeda counted in the background, Coach Ukai studied his clipboard, listening with a content smile to the hollering and laughter that was carried up from the beach by an easy sea breeze. The kids were off swimming and building sandcastles and trenches, enjoying their hard earned freedom after weeks of studying and practices.

“Oh no.”

Ukai turned to the teacher.

“What is it, Sensei?”

“Oh nononono - no!”

“What? Did we forget a cooler? What?”

“We are one tent short!”

“What?!”, Ukai’s booming yell made some birds fly out of a tree top, “I double checked it! Are you sure?”

The men stood shoulder to shoulder, counting. Again. And again. But even after the fifth time, Ukai had to admit his mistake.

“What are we gonna do?”, Takeda asked, panic rising in his voice.

“We just… gotta rethink logistics.”, Ukai said, grabbing the clipboard once more and flipping to the page of the sleeping arrangements.

One of the boys was supposed to sleep alone anyway. And one of the girls, too, because both numbers were uneven.

“Maybe we can squeeze Nishinoya, Hinata and Yamaguchi into one and then have y/n take the free boys’ tent.”

“Sensei, we can’t just sort them by size. I think… hm, y/n is a third year. If we put her with one of the other third years they should have the presence of mind not to try any funny business. The first years won’t get a wink of sleep having a girl so close to them at night and the second years are as girl-crazy as they come.”

“How about Sugawara then?”

“Don’t be too trusting, Sensei. I don’t think he is as innocent as he seems.”, Ukai said with a frown, “And Sawamura might do something without even realizing he is flirting. - I hate to say it but … Azumane will be too chicken to even go near her. I think he is our best bet.”

Asahi went pale when the news broke over dinner. He looked at you and was quite relieved to see you equally as shocked.

“It‘s just for one night.“, Ukai said quickly, “Not a big deal.“

Both the ace and third manager would very much beg to differ but the coach already made his way back to Takeda and his plate of chicken.

“No big deal.“, you repeated under your breath.

“No big deal.“, Asahi agreed.

It was, in fact, a big deal to Asahi. He didn‘t know exactly when he started to be hopelessly in love with you but if he had to take a guess, it was probably somewhere around the time when he noticed all of his sketches and doodles of various outfits becoming chubbier until they eventually matched your figure. Skirts for a lovely Sunday date, pantsuits for eventually kicking butt at an office where you undoubtedly would end up as CEO sooner or later, dresses for imaginary galas you‘d attend and even an elaborate gown for a daydream of a royal ball he had during a boring physics lesson. (He also came up with his own outfit for that occasion to match you.)

Noya was the only one he confided in. The libero had sworn on his honor to never hit on you and ever since tried to push his best friend to make a move before graduating and possibly losing sight of you. And after much pushing and pestering and strategizing, Asahi, under threat of violence, had agreed to confess his feelings before graduation - as an out, Asahi didn’t tell his friend that he hadn’t actually specified whether it was graduating high school or university so he still had time either way.

After dinner the team gathered around a bonfire to roast marshmallows and make up completely ridiculous, yet confident, remarks about constellations in the clear night sky.

Asahi was torn between wanting to play for time until curfew or savor every second of the increasingly appealing mishap - to share a tent, all night, alone, side by side with his crush.

But of course, as with every good beach episode, there had to be a game of truth or dare involved.

Daichi was forced to admit that he was deadly scared of mice, Hinata had to sit still for a whole minute and, in the meantime, Tsukki was dared to not insult him once. It was fun until Noya turned to you and the glint in his eyes made you gulp.

“So, y/n-san. Truth or dare?”

Quite frankly, both of these were dangerous coming from him but maybe truth wouldn’t be so bad.

Noya gave a victorious grin.

“Who, of the people here, do you have a crush on?”

Asahi wasn’t sure if it was the light of fire that made your cheeks look so pink. His heart quickened. You stammered, kneading your fingers in your lap.

“Alright everyone.”, Daichi said when an alarm went off on his phone, ���Let’s get to bed. Lights out in 15 minutes.”

Noya groaned and began to argue but one look from the captain had him crumble. So instead, he and Tanaka pushed each other out of the way, eager to be the one to accompany Kiyoko the few steps to the tent she shared with Yaachi.

Suga and Daichi gave Asahi a nondescript nod Goodnight before heading to bed themselves.

It was quite miraculous, you thought, how Asahi’s massively tall frame could fit next to you, when your plump form occupied a good part of the truly pathetically crammed tent already.

You sat cross legged on your sleeping bag, in your pyjama shorts and oversized t-shirt. Given the sleeping arrangements you decided to keep wearing a bra.

“Just for one night, right?”, you said in a (failed) attempt to make your voice sound light and airy.

You pumped some oil into the palm of your hand before running your fingers through your hair. The pleasant smell filled the tent. You caught his eyes and smiled, then both of you looked away again. The atmosphere was somewhat stiff, even though you’ve been on friendly terms with the fellow third years ever since you switched over from the Sewing Club about a year ago.

“Do you think-“

“So what would you-“

You said at the same time and broke off, laughing awkwardly.

“You first.”, he said.

“Do you think it’s okay if we keep on a light?”, you asked.

“Sure. Do you have one? Cause otherwise, I brought-” Asahi reached for his backpack and so did you.

After a moment’s rummaging you produced a small panda bear figure and turned to see a thing in his hand that looked suspiciously like a round little rabbit with a leaf umbrella.

“Is that… is that the official Totoro night light with 8 different color options and dimming function??”

Asahi nodded and you clasped your hands in delight, leaning closer to inspect it as he held it out to you. You let out a small gasp. This was one of the best night lights on the market right now after all!

“I wanted one of those for ages! But they're always sold out! How did you get it?”

“I set myself an alert for when they’re back in stock.”

He basked in your impressed “Ohhhh” and a few minutes later you both lay on your stomachs, looking at the two soft glowing figures in front of you.

Outside the tent, Ukai nodded approvingly on his last checkup before turning in himself in the room he shared with Takeda in a guesthouse on the border of the camping grounds.

“What was your question?”

“Hm?”, Asahi turned to look at you.

“Earlier when I asked you about the light. You wanted to say something as well. What was it?”

“Oh, not important.”, he said and moved the Totoro night light a little closer to your panda.

“Come on, I wanna know.”, you lightly pushed his leg with your foot to encourage him.

“I was just… I-i was wondering what you would have said if Daichi’s alarm hadn’t gone off.”, he mumbled.

“When? Oh, the game. Uhm.” The pink from earlier returned to your cheeks. Now would be as good a time as any, you thought and after a deep breath you replied, “You.”

Stupidly, Asahi rolled around to check if there was someone else behind him in the tiny tent before moving his attention back to you.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”, you laughed.

“I- I don't know what to say.”, Asahi stammered.

You regarded him with a thoughtful smile, still somewhat hopeful that what Kiyoko and Suga told you was right.

“Well, you could tell me if you feel the same or not, maybe?”

“Oh right! Yes!”, he said, much louder than intended and ducked his head a moment later, “Yes, I do like you. A lot.”

You beamed at him.

“Nice.”

The following giggles were suppressed in your respective pillows.

When you came back up for air he brushed a few loose strands of hair out of his face and cleared his throat, “Would you like to go out with me once we’re back?”

“I’d love to.”

“Great.”

You both looked at each other, unsure of what to do next.

“So…”, you began, weighing your words carefully, “Do you wanna make out?”

If Asahi had been drinking water, he would have choked on it. His face immediately turned bright red and he needed a minute to put a coherent word together. You waited patiently.

“Yes.”, he croaked eventually.

He didn’t move.

“I’ll be right there.”, he assured you, his voice and face still not quite back to normal.

“That’s alright.”

Asahi’s eyes widened when you scooted closer and your noses almost touched.

“Hi.”

“H-hello.”

It started out with a peck. You pulled back to check if he had any objections but you didn’t get very far. His lips followed yours as if magnetic. He sighed into the kiss and your smile widened if possible even further. His large hand came to rest on your waist and you slotted your leg between his. The kiss soon became open mouthed, your tongue slipping back and forth to test the waters.

You hummed happily against him, making him squeeze your pillowy hips. He was losing his mind. How could one person feel this good? Your hand brushed down his muscular arm to lay on top of his and began to move it. He was so engrossed in your taste that he didn’t notice until he cupped your breast.

“Y/n…”, he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. He stared at his hand, how it went up and down along with your panting. You, in turn, felt him throb against your thigh that was pushed between his legs.

Your chubby fingers closed around his much larger hand, easing him into the idea that he was free to touch you.

“Y/n…”, he whispered again and was met with your lips on his once more. He had never been drunk before but he was sure this was exactly what it must feel like.

Asahi groaned into your mouth when his palm pressed against your hardened nipple, pushing through the fabrics.

____________________

Picking up a piece of omelet with his chopsticks the next morning, Asahi grinned down at his bowl of rice like an idiot. You sat right next to him, so close that your heavenly thighs touched his, just as dazed from the previous night.

Tsukki frowned and said to no one in particular, but loud enough for you to hear, “Do they realize that tents aren’t soundproof?”

a/n: this one got so away from me xD thank you for your request and your kind words! I hope you enjoy it 🌟

Also I apologize for being so inactive. It’s a mixture of writer’s block, summer heat and a twisted back 🥲

[disillusioneddanny]

If It Makes You Happy (then why the hell are you so sad?)

Tim took a bite of his ravioli and looked around the table at his family. It was Sunday dinner. A monthly tradition where every member of the family adopted or otherwise came to spend a few hours together. It didn’t matter who was arguing with whom, or how estranged from the family you were at the time. You still had to attend the monthly family dinner. However, there were times when Tim wondered if anyone would notice if he stopped attending. If he no longer came to the dinners where he sat mostly unnoticed by the rest of his family. Where he typically sat in silence, having not uttered a single word throughout the entire event. Would they ever realize he was gone? Did they even realize he was there in the first place? 

A part of Tim truly doubted it, if he was being completely honest with himself. Maybe that was why he hadn’t been able to share with the family his upcoming exhibit. 

Tim was in his fourth year of college. Where he was getting a degree in Art, Technology, and Culture. It was a major that allowed Tim to immerse himself in photography, video art, creative coding, and so much more. He had gotten to work in traditional analog and digital photography. Played around with film and art in ways he had never thought of before while also learning about cultural theory, the expression of ideas, and cultural practices which gave him the chance to truly discover himself. It was the first time he had ever chosen something for himself. 

His entire life he had been groomed to run a business. To at first take over Drake Industries one day and then later Wayne Enterprises where he was unfortunately CEO. But then he had learned about the ATC program at Gotham University and he had fallen in love with it.  He had always been obsessed with photography and even film later on as he grew older and spent his days alone in dusty old Drake Manor. And he had always loved to learn about cultures, he ate up the stories from his parents and their trips abroad. Had spent countless nights watching the people of Gotham and how they did things, and had absorbed it all like a sponge to make up for the fact that he was just a lonely boy living in a manor by himself. 

Even when he had joined the Bats and had made his tiny little place with them, he still fell back on his love for learning about others and his desire to tell their stories. It had just become an intrinsic part of Timothy Drake. 

And now here he was, slowly creeping to the finish line. He had his senior showcase coming up. A requirement for all students who were receiving a bachelor of fine arts. He was to show off all of his best work from the last four years. It was a chance for him to show everything he had learned, and to display his work with pride. 

He had toyed with the idea of inviting everyone to it. To let them see the love that Tim had cultivated over the last four years. He was set to graduate in just a few months and the pride he felt for himself was tremendous. And if Tim invited the Wayne family to his senior showcase, then maybe they could come to his college graduation and share the achievement with them then too. 

It was a big time in Tim’s life and he wanted to share it with them. 

He listened as a lull came in the conversation and carefully cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the others. 

“I have a senior showcase this weekend for my BFA. It’s at six in the evening in the Wayne Arts Center on Gotham Campus. I would be happy to see you all there,” he said hesitantly, eyes firmly trained on his plate of food. 

“That sounds nice, Tim. I’ll try to be there,” Bruce said politely before going back to his conversation with Jason and Dick. Tim felt eyes on him, though, and slowly looked up to find his little brother giving him a curious look. 

“What?” He asked, still trying to calm his heart just a bit. He still wasn’t sure why he came to these things, why he was even here. Just talking to the Waynes gave him anxiety. Just being here reminded him how much he didn’t belong. How other he was compared to the rest of the kids that Bruce had adopted? 

Damian tilted his head to the side. “I was not aware that you were getting your Bachelor's in Fine Arts. Will you tell me about your degree program? I have been thinking about getting an Art History degree but have been torn between that and a business degree.”

Tim gave him a small smile and rested his chin on his hand as he started to tell Damian all about his degree and how he was enjoying the program at Gotham University. The rest of the family went on to their own conversations while Damian listened with rapt attention to Tim describing the ATC program at Gotham U. 

The rest of the week was a whirlwind as he prepared for his senior showcase, he had sent out invitations to everyone he wanted to come see his work. The Team had already made a reservation to take Tim to lunch before the showcase before helping him get everything ready. And as the day came to be, they had made good on their word, taking him to his favorite Vietnamese restaurant in Gotham before taking him to the gallery. He blushed as he listened to his three best friend gush over his artwork, as they listened to him explain each piece. They asked questions and made remarks about what their favorite pieces were and even tried to buy a few pieces only for Tim to promise to give each of them prints of his photos. 

The three had left with quick goodbyes, each one giving Tim a hug and congratulating him before they made their way from the gallery. The rest of the evening dragged on as people came by and asked Tim about his photos and the small films that played on the movie screen on one wall. He smiled and explained each photo to anyone who asked. He had wanted to showcase his vigilante photos of the bats and birds but it had been too much of a risk to do so. 

Instead he had shown off his photos that showcased all of his favorite parts of Gotham. From the beautiful gothic architecture, the gargoyles that looked out over the city. He showed the photos from the last time Ivy had thrown a fit in Robinson Park and covered the entirety of the grounds with flowers. He showed the pictures of community from Crime Alley and the beauty of the strength of Gothamites who had managed to survive the worst of the worst. 

He also featured pictures of his family, of Dick hanging from a chandelier, of Damian training Titus to do a trick. He had a picture of Bruce, Alfred, and Jason sitting side by side as they each read a different book. One showed Cass as she posed for the camera in her favorite ballet form. They were some of his most treasured memories, there for everyone to see and enjoy. Tucker between the one of Damian and the one of Dick was a photo of Tim. He had taken forever to set up the camera and get the timer right. Alfred had simply chuckled the entire time as he continued to offer to take the picture for Tim but no one was meant to be behind the camera for that picture. It was the only family portrait of his entire family. Cass, Damian, Tim, Dick, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, they all sat smushed into a single couch together, wide smiles and laughs on each of their faces as Tim beamed from the far side, leaning into Alfred’s side. 

The gallery was meant to showcase culture that was important to Tim. To showcase the life that he loved and treasured. And even if he never felt like he quite fit in the Wayne Family, even though he knew that he was the expendable one, the replacement, he still treasured his family. It was why he had invited them, he had wanted them to see just how important they were to Tim. And maybe they would realize he was important to them too.

Only, the rest of the evening seemed to drag on, and not a single person from his family ever stepped through the door. He waited, shoulders tensed and smile polite. Every bit the gentleman that Janet Drake had trained him to be as he stood with his hands clasped in front of him. He kept glancing at the clock, waiting for Bruce or Dick or someone to walk through the doors, to say hello and look at all the work that Tim had put in the last four years in college. The hours ticked by until it was nearing ten pm and the gallery started to clear out, custodians came in and started to clean up around him. 

Tim cast one final look at the doors before he turned to his photos and started to take one off of the wall. 

“Master Timothy! I am so sorry that we are late,” a voice said and Tim quickly to find Alfred and Damian walking through the doors of the gallery. A small smile spread on Tim’s face as Damian bound forward. 

“I apologize,” Damian said softly, staring up at Tim with disgruntled eyes. “I got into an argument with Father and then Titus scared Alfred the Cat and we spent the last three hours searching for that blasted cat and when we realized the time we came straight here,” he said. “What did the others think of your exhibit?”

Tim’s smile fell and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “They uh, they didn’t show up,” he said quietly. “But if you’d like, you guys are the last ones to show up. I’d love to show you everything.”

Alfred’s face fell at that as he stepped forward and clasped a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “That is their loss, my dear boy. I would love to see your work,” he said. Before he could stop himself, Tim pulled Alfred in for a tight hug, burying his face in the old butler’s chest as he held him close. 

“Thank you,” he whispered before pulling away. He glanced down at Damian and smiled. “How about I show you my work and then if my advisor is still here you can meet her and talk to her about the ATC program.”

The fourteen-year-old nodded his head once. “I would appreciate that,” he said before grabbing Tim’s hand hesitantly. He followed quietly as Tim showed them his pictures of Gotham, explaining the stories behind each one before he showed them his favorite pictures. His pictures of home and both men let out soft gasps as they looked at them. 

“Master Timothy, these are beautiful,” Alfred said, stepping forward to take in the picture of him, Bruce, and Jason. 

“The lighting for this is amazing, I did not know that I even smiled like that,” Damian said softly as he took in the picture of him smiling at Titus. 

“Oh Tim,” Alfred said quietly, losing all strict politeness that Alfred held so dear to his heart as he took in the family portrait. “This is amazing, Timothy. So absolutely perfect. I remember when you took this photograph. It was right after Thanksgiving dinner last year.”

“I was so irritated, Todd had gotten mashed potatoes in my hair,” Damian said with a huff, a small smile tugged on his face. 

“I did not even realize that Master Richard and Master Jason were hugging in this picture,” Alfred said, a soft smile sti on his face as he took in the way Dick had his arms wrapped around Jason’s shoulders, a wide smile on his face as he laughed at something Jason had said. A small smile sat on Jason’s face, his eyes brighter than Tim had seen since the older man had come back from the dead. 

Alfred tore his eyes from the picture. “How much?” he asked. 

Tim blinked. “What?”

“How much for the picture?” Alfred asked him, turning back to the family portrait. 

“For you?” Tim asked, blinking again in surprise. “Free of charge, considering it a thank you for coming to my senior showcase.”

“I would like this one of Titus and me,” Damian piped up. “It would be lovely on my desk in my bedroom.”

Tim sniffed, his chest tightening slightly. “I would be more than happy to give you both the original copies.”

“Timothy,” Alfred said, turning back to Tim, that soft, kind, smile on his face once again. “I am so incredibly proud of you.”

The vigilante’s eyes burned furiously. “I-I thank you,” he said, a soft sob slipped out of his mouth before small arms wrapped around him. Damian hugged him tight, his face pressed against Tim’s chest. 

“I am so sorry that our family forgot to come to your showcase, Timothy,” he said stiffly. “You are incredibly talented and it is their loss for missing out on this.”

Tim pressed a hand to Damian’s back, feeling tears building behind his eyes that threatened to spill over. “Thank you,” he whispered. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he looked around and spotted his advisor. “There’s Professor Maheshawen. She’s my advisor. We can go talk to her and you can ask your questions, okay?”

Damian nodded and pulled away carefully, smoothing down the front of his sweater before he followed after Tim to meet his professor. Leaving Alfred to continue staring at the pictures with a kind smile on his face.

Alfred Pennyworth looked at the smiles on his charges faces and let out a breath. One of these days, Bruce and the others would realize just how important Timothy was to their family, how he was the one who held them all together. He only hoped that they would not realize that lesson too late in life. At the very least, Damian was now starting to understand just how wonderful Timothy Drake was. 

[topguncortez]

Are You With Me | | Chapter 3

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synopsis: Jake and Y/N fight over the hospital bill and whether its a good idea to keep the kids on Jake's insurance or night. Jake still has issues with Miles. Ella makes a decision in the course of her treatment.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: medical inaccuracies, divorce, fighting, cursing, childhood cancer, mentions of childhood death

Jake had made a joke once that Eli was the cheapest baby they had. Said joke had earned him a glare that was fierce enough to send a shiver down his spine. Y/N had mastered the “mom eye” after having two kids.

But, even though Jake’s joke was done in poor timing, he was right. Having a baby, although not planned one bit, at home had saved them quite a bit of money. Jake had always found it comical that he was the best of the best. The 1% of the 1% and had some of the worst health care coverage in the whole United States.

“I feel like I need to take a loan out to pay these,” Jake rubbed his forehead, slipping his glasses off his face.

It was one of the rare moments that Jake and Y/N were both at the house. Y/N spent the day with Ella while Jake was at work and Alex was at school. Between Penny and Y/N’s mother Clara, they watched Eli for a couple of hours. Jake would then come to the hospital at night, staying with Ella while Y/N went home and made dinner and got the boys to bed. The Daggers had created a weekend schedule, each of them taking a saturday or sunday to stay with Ella so Jake and Y/N could both go home and recharge.

Though being at home was more stressful than watching their four year old getting pumped with toxins.

“Is that the bill?” Y/N asked as she walked into the kitchen after putting the boys down. She filled the tea kettle and set it on the burner, before pouring Jake a drink and taking it to him

“The first one, yeah,” Jake wiped a hand down his face, “Thanks,” He mumbled taking the rocks glass from her, “The ER visit cost thirty-three hundred dollars and insurance is only covering three hundred of it. The estimated total cost of care is around sixty-one thousand dollars.”

“Well,” Y/N swallowed, “I can always put Ella on my insurance. I get good-”

“No,” Jake sneered, “We agreed when we… we agreed when we divorced I would put the kids on my insurance plan because it’s cheaper.”

“Yes, but if this means compromising Ella’s care-“

“It’s not compromising anything!” Jake snapped causing Y/N to jump a bit in her seat. He scrubbed a hand down his face, “You got the kids and the house and everything else in the divorce. Let me help do this.”

Y/N nodded her head, “Fine,” She sighed, “We still have the rainy day fund.”

“Still not even going to make a dent in the payments,” Jake leaned back in his chair, “I’m tired of talking about this. How was Ella today?”

“Same as always,” Y/N shrugged, “Was fine in the morning before chemo, napped all afternoon and then threw up everything she ate. Her hair is becoming more of an issue for her… it’s becoming more noticeable.”

Ella’s hair had started to fall out as the weeks of chemo continued on. Jake and Y/N didn’t have the heart to shave it or cut it before Ella started therapy, wanting her to have the ability to make that decision for herself. But as the treatments went on, Ella’s confidence began to fade with each clump of hair that fell.

“Maybe we should just shave it,” Jake suggested as the tea kettle rang.

Y/N poured herself a mug, “No. She’s already losing so much autonomy over her own body. She should be the one who decides on her hair.”

“I hate to see her like that.”

“We all do,” Y/N took a sip of her tea, “But she was happy that Rooster and Dragon got to stay with her. Dragon mentioned something about watching Dateline.”

Jake chuckled, “Going to teach our four year old how to commit murder and get away with it.”

“She’s been stealing cookies and getting things she wants outta you since she was born.”

Jake couldn’t help it, he was a sucker for those big green eyes.

Silence fell over the two of them. It was moments like these where things almost felt normal between Jake and Y/N. Like the past two years had been a fever dream. That they had never spent a day apart. But then reality settled back in, and the awkwardness filled the air.

“I’m going to bed,” Y/N said, clearing her throat, “I put clean towels back in the guest room.”

“Thank you,” Jake nodded his head, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Jake.”

— — —

When Ella was born, she had a full head of dark curly hair. Y/N knew that she was going to have hair from all the heartburn she had experienced through the whole nine months. In fact, that was the first thing the doctor had called out in the middle of delivering the Seresin girl.

“oh gosh! she’s got a full head of hair!”

Y/N had always dreamed of having a little girl with gorgeous long hair, and she had been lucky to get just that. She couldn’t wait until Ella was old enough to sit up and her hair long enough that she could braid it and style it. Ella always had perfectly done hair when Y/N dropped her off for daycare. Ella liked to show off her matching bows or the intricate braid that her mother did to her classmates and teacher.

Miles had told them one of the most common side effects of chemotherapy was the loss of hair. Y/N thought maybe, just maybe, Ella wouldn’t lose her hair. They had gotten through the first week of treatment without any hair loss. But then week two rolled around, and it was the worst week of Ella Seresin’s life.

“Mommy! My hair!” Ella cried as she stood fresh out of the shower, with a clump of hair in her hands. Y/N did all she could to try and soothe her child as she pulled on the ends of her hair, more stands coming out.

“I know, baby,” Y/N fought back tears, “I know. It’ll be okay.”

For weeks, Y/N and Jake watched as Ella’s hair grew thinner and thinner. They switched from using a brush to using a wide tooth comb, hoping to save some of the frail strands of hair on her head. Ella knew that most kids on the floor didn’t have hair or wore fake hair. She knew that eventually, she would look like them.

“Do you want strawberry or cherry jello for lunch?” Y/N asked as she looked over the hospitals menu choices for today. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was because of stress but the hospital food wasn’t actually that bad. Plus, Val had kept Ella’s room stacked with snacks.

“Mommy,” Ella said.

“Yes, baby?” Y/N asked, putting the menu down and looking at her daughter, “What’s up, buttercup?”

“I want to cut my hair.”

“What?” Y/N was taken aback by her daughter’s words. Ella was wise beyond her years but this shocked Y/N to hear.

“I want to cut my hair. It keeps falling,” Ella said, touching her thinning hair.

Y/N nodded her head, “Of course, baby. We’ll do it tonight, when dad gets here. That sounds okay?” Ella nodded her head, a bright smile on her face, “Now, how about that jello.”

A couple of hours later, Jake was walking down the familiar bright colored walls of the children’s cancer ward. He always found it ironic that such a dark place was painted so brightly. Ella had only been there two months and already she had new neighbors on either side of her room. The cries of the parents haunted Jake at night and the images of little bodies being moved with sheets over their heads was enough to bring Jake to a panic. However, every time Jake walked closer to Ella’s door he was met with the beautiful sound of laughter. 

A smile graced Jake’s lips as he heard Ella’s laugh and that familiar snort that always made her laugh harder. But the moment he opened the door, his smile dropped. 

“Doctor Miles.” 

“Daddy!” Ella cheered and sat up in her bed, reaching out for her father. 

Jake walked over to her, greeting her with a hug and kissing her forehead, “How are you, bug?” 

“I’m good,” Ella nodded her head, laying back in her bed, “Doctor Miles is playing Bluey with me.” 

“I see that,” Jake looked over at Miles who was standing in the corner of the room now, “Where is Mommy?” 

“Sent her for a snack,” Miles answered, “She’s looking like the walking dead.” 

“Can we refrain from making death jokes?” Miles held back from rolling his eyes, “I’m here now, so you can go.” 

“I said I would wait here with Ella until-” 

“I’m her father and I say-” 

“You say nothing,” Y/N said, appearing in the doorway, “Thank you, Miles.” 

Miles nodded his head, “No problem, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ella, good job today.” He held his hand out for the little girl to give him a high five. 

Y/N waited a moment until Miles was out of the room before looking at Jake, “Really?” 

Jake just shrugged, “I had it under control.” 

“I’m sure,” Y/N sighed, walking over to Ella’s bed. The little girl curled up next to her mother almost instantly, “Do you want to tell your daddy what you want to do today?” Ella nodded her head and then looked at Jake. 

“I want to cut my hair.” 

Jake’s eyes widened as he looked from Ella to Y/N, “You do?” Ella nodded her head again. 

“The nurses brought some clippers and stuff earlier. I-I’ve never cut anyone’s hair so I-”

“I got it,” Jake answered, “I was cuttin’ boys’ hair in the bay at boot camp.” 

 “Okay,” Y/N said, feeling the familiar burn of tears in her eyes, “You ready, Elles?” 

“Yes!” Ella said, a bright smile on her face. 

Both Y/N and Jake walked with Ella to the bathroom where a nurse had brung in clippers, scissors, a razor, shaving cream and a step stool. Ella stepped up on the stool, looking at herself in the mirror that was covered with pink and purple flowers. Y/N leaned against the doorway, watching as Jake got everything set up, occasionally making funny faces in the mirror to make Ella laugh. 

“Gonna start now, are you sure this is what you want?” Jake asked his daughter. Ella nodded her head, “Okay. Here we go.” Both Y/N and Jake took a deep breath as he grabbed a lock of Ella’s hair and lifted the scissors. The sound of the shears closing together made the loudest sound Y/N had ever heard as a lock of brown went tumbling down to the ground. 

“You cut it!” Ella gasped. Jake’s heart pounded in his chest, then it relaxed as her giggles filled the room, “Do it again!” 

Jake looked at his wife through the mirror, seeing her red eyes but the smallest smile on her face, “Let’s keep going.” 

After every snip of the scissors, Ella giggled which made the whole situation somewhat better. Eventually Jake got to the point where he had to use the clippers. He gently moved them over her head, watching as the final pieces of hair fell from her head. 

“What do you think?” Jake asked, as he set the razor down in the sink. It was quiet for a moment as Ella looked herself over in the mirror. 

“My head is cold,” She said. 

Y/N chuckled as she stepped into the bathroom, walking up behind her daughter, “We’ll get you a hat or two or-” 

“Three!” Ella held up three fingers. Ella turned to face her mom, “Momma, don’t cry.” 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Y/N said, as Ella wiped a finger away from her cheek, “How about we take a shower and then watch a disney movie?” 

“Princess and The Frog! Daddy! Will you stay?” 

Y/N looked at Jake, who was cleaning up the hair around the bathroom, “Yeah. Of course. Let me finish cleaning this up, and I'll sneak down to the nurses lounge to make popcorn.” 

“Thank you,” Y/N said, sincerity in her voice, “Let’s get cleaned up, Elles.” 

A strange feeling settled over Jake’s chest as he watched his wife and daughter. A strange feeling that maybe, just maybe. . . things will be alright.

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[bookuce]

One More Day (Roman Reigns One Shot)

Summary: It’s been four months since Joe lost the Undisputed Championship at Wrestlemania 40. Although you are enjoying this time together, Joe has to go back on the road tomorrow, and you plan to make every second, every hour leading up to his departure count.

WORD COUNT: 1.4K

WARNINGS: Fluff

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x Black OC

“I’m…Caught up in the Rapture of love.” Music and the smell of food fill their kitchen. Anita Baker was a staple in this household, an artist passed down from Jaiden’s mother to her. She could recall hearing this music on a Sunday evening, her mother quietly singing while she cooked a meal big enough to last them a few days. Now, she was in her own kitchen doing the same thing. Like mother, like daughter.

This song was Jaiden’s favorite. It always puts her in a loving mood. “Nothing else can compare.” She sings softly to herself, her hips swaying from left to right on beat. “When I feel the magic…”

“You better sing it, girl.” A new voice enters the kitchen, causing Jaiden to smile at the pot on the stove before her. She turns over her shoulders, watching as her boyfriend of two years dances up to her. Joe holds his hands up, snapping on the one and two. Jaiden giggles softly. “Ay, caught up in the rapture of you.” He sings out of tune.

“Don’t you go messing up my song!” Jaiden warns him, turning to face him fully.

“I make it better.” He boasts, wrapping his large arm around her waist. “Dance with me.” He commands, moving his hips against hers. Jaiden will never turn down a chance to dance with her man. He’d take her hands into his own, the pair stepping back from each other. He’d lift her arms, crossing them and prompting her to spin into his embrace from behind. She would do just as he requested, leaning back into his touch. They would sway from side to side, smiling at the moment they were sharing. They don’t get many chances to do this since Joe is always on the road. For the last one hundred and twenty days, he’s been home.

She could recall the night he lost his championship like it was yesterday. He mourned the loss at first but quickly came to terms with it. He felt free. He was free. He would like to thank Cody for taking that burden off him. He’s thought about it multiple times. Because of him, it was now possible for Joe to come home to his lady. He needed to make up for lost time, and that he did. They’ve been attached at the hip since they got off the plane from Philly. How many times can one couple have a honeymoon phase? Jaiden wasn’t sure, but she was not complaining.

“I love you here by me, baby…”

"That I do, that I do.” He sings into her ear in agreement, sending shivers down her spine. She’d arch in towards him, giggling softly. Joe moves her past the stove, his eyes venturing into the pot. “What do you have cooking?” He begins to reach in, causing his girlfriend to slap his hand away.

“I knew that was why you came in here. Get out of here.” He holds his hands up in surrender, laughing softly at her.

“I came in here for you.” He lies.

“Alright, Joe.”

“I did!”

She lowers her eyes at the playful Samoan in front of her, slowly turning away to continue preparing dinner for the two of them. “Since it’s the last night I’ll have you here for a while, I wanted to make your favorite meal.” She says, sadness sweeping over her. Joe could hear the sadness in her voice, causing him to be saddened. He approaches her from behind, wrapping his large arms around her diminutive frame.

“You can always come with me.” He tells her. Each time, it was the same proposition. Every time, she would shoot it down. ‘I don’t want to be in the way,’ She’d tell him. He would argue that she was never in the way. In fact, he’d rather her be in his way. He’d prefer her to fill the space around him, to suffocate him with her presence. That’s how much he loved her.

“I can’t just take off from my job, and who’s going to take care of the house while we’re gone?” She asks. Joe lays his head on top of hers.

“I told you to quit that job and let me care for you. You’re using it as Plan B at this point.” He says.

“Plan B?” She asks.

“Mhm,” He hums. “If things don’t work out with us, you want to be sure you’re safe.” She gets quiet. He was right. Her mother always told her not to make big or permanent decisions because of a man. She wanted her to learn from her mistakes. “I don’t intend on things not working out with us,” He starts. “I do intend on making you my wife one of these days.” He says, causing her to smile softly to herself. Believe it or not, they’d never had the marriage talk before this moment. With Joe being as famous as he was, she half expects him to meet someone who matches him perfectly. He would argue she fits him like a glove; it doesn’t get more perfect than this.

“You see me as a wife?” She asks.

“I see you as my wife.” He corrects her. She turns around in his arms, her brown eyes peering up at the man before her. “We got something good going on, don’t we?” She would like to think they did. She couldn’t imagine a world without him now that she had a taste of what could be with him.

“I’d like to think so.” She agrees with a single nod.

“So, come with me on the road.” He asks once more.

“The house—.”

“My mom has already said she’d watch the house. You won’t come home to dead plants if she does. You will if you let your cousin do it again.” He mutters the last half, but she hears him. She stifles a laugh. “I’m still trying to figure out how she did that much damage in three days.”

“I think she watered them each day she came over.” Jaiden assumes.

“Mm,” Joe hums. A comfortable silence would fall on the two for a few seconds. “So, are you coming or not?” He says suddenly. Her head would drop against his chest, a silent laugh shaking her. He was eager to have her on the road with him and was no longer taking no for an answer.

“You just don’t let up, do you?” She mumbles. Jaiden would lift her head from his shirt, locking eyes with the giant man once more. “How about next week?” She offers.

He’d suck his teeth at her, his head slowly shaking. “That ain’t gonna work for me, Jaiden.”

“And why not?” She asks, eyebrow now lifted.

“Because you say next week, and then next week will come, and you’ll come up with some crazy excuse as to why you can’t—Much like you are right now.” He explains, looking down at her once more. Jaiden’s eyes would lower at him again. How dare he perceive her? “You can get that look off your face.” He tells her.

“Or what?” She challenges him. Joe’s head would tilt to the side at her question.

“You know what.” He replies. Jaiden sinks her teeth into her bottom lip at his answer. It’s been an ongoing battle keeping that man off of her today. The only peace she had was when he went down for a nap and when he went to the gym. She wasn’t even sure how she was walking, let alone standing now. Her stomach swelled with butterflies—anxiety, as she quickly turned away from him. She reaches forward, turning the stove off.

Joe couldn’t help but smile at her response as she turned away from him. He would lean against the island behind him, his hand reaching up to scratch his beard. “Dinner’s ready.” She says, turning to face him. “Can you set the table for me?” She asks. He’d hesitantly move from in front of her, moving over to a cabinet with dishware. Her gaze would follow him as he moved slowly past her. “Are you okay? Are you not tired?” She asks, putting her hands on her hips.

“Of you? Nah, that’s a hunger that’ll never be satisfied.” He turns to face her, two plates in hand. “Now, give Daddy a kiss.” He leans over her, his lips slightly puckered for a kiss. She’d reach up to give him a quick peck before grabbing food to take to their table. When she entered the dining room, Joe was already sitting at the table. His eyes light up at the sight of his girlfriend.

—————————————————————————————————

A/N: This is one of my first one shots I wrote for Tumblr that never saw the light of day! Inspired by the song I listed up above (old R&B is my jam btw). It was supposed to be longer, but I lost muse for it. If you’d like to see more of it, maybe I can muster up the energy to keep writing it eventually! But until then, enjoy!

🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland @fandomphasess @evilli0s

[bloatedandalone04]

Bets & Bargains - Part 7

Series Masterlist

➪in which bradley finally makes things official between you and him, and the guys finally catch onto what’s been keeping their frat mate so busy lately.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Bradley failed to notice that you had accidentally left your hoodie on his passenger seat when he dropped you off last night. He was going to bring it to you since you didn’t live far away, but he decided to just keep it there until he saw you again. 

Then he got himself ready for bed and saw the mess he made for you in his boxers, and he went right back out to his Jeep and grabbed your hoodie, then spent the next ten minutes holding it up to his nose as he jerked himself off in his bedroom. 

He couldn’t help it. It smelled like movie theater popcorn and you, a combination he didn’t think he would like so much. 

He was happy it was the weekend and he didn’t have class to go to today, because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to focus on a single thing other than you. 

Why you were such a distraction, he didn’t know, but he honestly didn’t care. Last night was amazing, and he was cursing himself for it ending so soon. You and he talked for a long time after you got each other off in the driver’s seat of his Jeep, and it was only around ten when he drove you back to campus. He should’ve taken you to get milkshakes or something, since you both were quite a big fan of them, instead of reminding himself that he wanted to take things slow with you. 

Bradley hadn’t even told you about Bri yet, like you told him about Luke, but he was sure that you would automatically think that you were a rebound since he and Bri broke up literally only a week ago tomorrow. That wasn’t the case, though. Sure, his initial, drunken thought was to find someone to make Bri jealous with, but that wasn’t what he was doing with you. He liked you, and if she was jealous because of that, then it was just a bonus. 

He knew he liked you a bit too much too soon, so he restricted himself to only texting you all throughout Saturday while he tried to catch up on the assignments he’d been given during the first week back at school. As he read through them, he realized that he had missed the explanation of them as well since he was too preoccupied with thoughts of you, and then he told himself to get a grip. 

He had never been like this before, not with anyone, but he wasn’t mad that you were the first person to get him all flustered and unfocused like he currently is now. 

On Sunday, he caved. 

I miss you, babes. Can I see you today?

He was scribbling out a spelling error, not caring enough about neatness to actually erase the mistake, when you got back to him. 

Y/n: I miss you, flyboy. What did you have in mind?

Bradley laughed at the name, pushing aside his school work in order to give you his full attention. It was nearing four in the afternoon and he hadn’t eaten much today other than half a box of stale crackers, and he has a few things in the fridge and cupboard he needs to get rid of soon, so he decided to invite you over for dinner. 

You hungry? I’m sick of fast food places, let me make you something real and half decent. 

Y/n: I’m always hungry, and beyond curious to find out about your culinary skills. 

I’m very skilled in the kitchen I barely use, believe me. Come over at 5?

Y/n: I believe you. See you soon, flyboy.

Bradley was left smiling stupidly at his phone, then he quickly changed your contact name before trying to get as much studying time in as possible before you got here. 

-

You’d spent most of the weekend in your room, wanting to avoid Sam as much as you could. You were still annoyed with her, and pissed off that she thinks you were looking for a rebound in Bradley. Even though you weren’t, she was the one who told you to go get a rebound anyway. 

Things had been over between you and Luke for months, and you were more than ready to move on. And Bradley seemed like a great person to move on with, if he felt the same way about you. Though, you had a feeling he did since he pretty much told you in his Jeep on Friday night. 

Fuck, you’ve replayed that night over and over in your head too many times to count. It was almost too perfect. Not only did he make you feel unbelievably good, the long talk you had after was something you didn’t know you needed so badly. 

Talking with Bradley was one of the easiest things you had ever done, and listening to him talk about his life and past and possible future was like a breath of fresh air. 

It was almost five when you finally left the confines of your room, and of course Sam was right there. Really, you should’ve expected it since her room is across the hall from yours, and the hall is extremely small, so you were bound to bump into her eventually. “Oh,” she blandly said, a bottle of Pepsi in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. “You’re alive. She’s alive, everyone.”

You watch with narrowed eyes as she turns and gestures to you as if it wasn’t just you and her in the cramped hall. “Really?” You ask in a bored tone, crossing your arms. 

“Really,” she hummed, raising her brows quickly before turning towards her bedroom door. “Have fun with the frat boy.”

You glared at her then at her door when she slammed it in your face. How did she know you were going to see Bradley? Sure, you’ve seen him a lot since that party, maybe a bit too much, but still. That was a lucky guess. 

Not wanting to be in a bad mood when you get to his place, you take a deep breath and raise both your middle fingers at her door, then head towards the front one. You would deal with her later, and preferably clear the air, because she was acting like a child and you were getting fed up with it. 

It was kind of cold out for a summer night, and you failed to check the weather before leaving, so you ended up walking across campus in just a grey tank top and black jeans. You walk up the steps and knock on the door, rubbing your hands over your arms afterwards as you wait. 

You didn’t have to wait for too long as less than ten seconds later the door opened and revealed the guy you were annoyingly into. “Hey,” Bradley greeted with a boyish smile that had you fighting off one of your own. “You don’t have to knock, you know. We rarely ever lock the door.”

“Oh,” you laugh and step inside the house when he moves to the side. “That’s really good to know in case I ever stay the night again.”

Bradley, who looked too good to be true in his blue flannel and dark jeans, rolled his eyes as he pushed the door closed. “You didn’t let me finish. We rarely ever lock it when we’re home,” he added with a laugh, draping his arm over your shoulder as he guided you into the kitchen.

You hum and lean into his side, wrapping your arm around his middle. “That makes it sound a lot better,” you smile up at him. “Thanks for clarifying.”

Bradley shook his head, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips as if it came naturally to him. Was this a normal thing now? God, you hoped so. “Come on,” he said against your lips. “It’s almost ready.”

You let him lead you into the kitchen, your body stuck to his. It seemed like neither one of you wanted to let the other one go at the moment, and you didn’t mind it one bit. “What’s almost ready?” 

“The decent food I promised you,” he answered, pulling you with him to the stove. You barely got a second to look at the pan that was on the burner before Bradley picked you up effortlessly and set you down on the counter next to the oven. 

You got a hint of his strength on Friday night when he threw you over his shoulder and carried you across the parking garage, and both times left you a bit breathless. 

Bradley moved his body so his waist was in between your thighs, and his hands were placed on the counter next to your hips. He was still taller than you, even like this, so he had to lean down to ghost his lips over yours. “Do you wanna taste it?” He asked, his words muffled against your mouth. 

Not being able to form proper words, you nod and harshly swallow at the smirk that formed on his lips. He turned away from you and grabbed a fork, piling a bit of the ground beef onto it before bringing it up to your mouth. You hold eye contact as you take the fork between your teeth, a sharp intake following shortly after. “Wow,”

“Good? Bad?” Bradley laughed, setting the fork down and placing his hands on either side of your hips again. “Which one is it?”

“Good, it’s good,” you reply, still chewing as you reach up to wipe at your mouth. “Spicy.”

He hummed, lifting his hand and running his thumb along your bottom lip, collecting what you failed to wipe away. “Is that bad? Do you not like spicy things?”

You shake your head, a laugh escaping afterwards. “I do, I just can’t handle a lot of spice. My taste buds will fall off,”

“Oh, we can’t have that,” Bradley laughed, too, sliding his hand up so it’s caressing the side of your face. You were still smiling when his gaze became a little more intimate, and you thought he was going to kiss you again when he instead surprised you. “Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

Your eyes widen a bit and you laugh again, a sound of disbelief as your eyes flickered all over his face. “What?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” He repeated slower this time, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he looked down at your lips. 

The shock from the sudden question eventually wears off and you place your hands on his shoulders. “Um,” you trail off as you sit up straighter, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. “Yeah, I do.” 

Bradley grinned at you, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you confirm, unable to stop the smile that matched his before he leaned in and pressed a firm kiss to your mouth. 

You gently pull at his hair as he grabs your hips in both hands, deepening the kiss as he tugs you towards the edge of the counter. “You left your hoodie in the Jeep,” he told you, barely pulling away from your lips as he spoke. 

“Oh,” you murmur. “Is it still in there?”

He shook his head, kissing you again after. “It’s in my room,” he mumbled. “I’m keeping it.”

You laugh against his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before pulling away. “It’s my favorite one,” you pouted and he reached up to tug at your bottom lip.

“You can steal one of mine,” he suggested and the offer sounded too tempting to decline, so you just smiled at him and nodded. 

“Okay,” you agreed, kissing him one last time before pushing him away from you. “Check the food, flyboy. Make sure it’s not burning.”

Bradley shook his head with a laugh, stepping away from you and checking on the pan. “It’s not,” he observed, glancing over at you with teasing eyes. “But if it was, it’d be your fault for distracting me.” 

You shrug, gripping the edge of the granite as you lean over. “You gotta learn how to focus on the important tasks if you want to be in the Navy,”

He copied your shrug and looked over at you as he turned the stove off and set the pan onto a different burner. “I don’t know, kissing you seemed very important,” 

You roll your eyes and look around the simple kitchen. “Where are your frat buddies?”

“I don’t know,” Bradley answered with a quiet laugh, transferring the beef into a bowl. “They’re hardly ever here. That’s why it’s so quiet. I don’t know what they do all day long.”

You nod even though he was too focused on the food to see it. “I like it when it’s quiet,” you say, watching as he grabs two plates from the top shelf of a cupboard, the stretch making his flannel lift and expose a bit of his toned waist. “Means I get you all to myself.”

“What, having me all to yourself every day last week wasn’t enough?” He teased, setting the plates down before holding his hand out to you. 

You grab it and hop down, throwing your arms around his shoulders and pressing your nose to his. “Nope,” you mumble. “Friday was too good of a date, it just made me want you more.”

Bradley wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to his chest. “Good, ‘cause that was kinda the plan,” 

“Oh,” you drag the word out as he pulls you with him to the small table by the sliding door. “You’ve got it all figured out, huh?”

Bradley shrugs, sitting down on a chair and pulling you onto his lap. “I might’ve thought about it once or twice,” he replied and you shake your head, watching as he reached around you and began piling various ingredients onto a tortilla wrap. 

Why did it feel so easy with him? And how was he able to make your whole body blush with a simple sentence like that? 

You drape your arm over his shoulders as you get yourself settled on his lap, and when you turned your head to look at him, you were able to see his multiple scars up close. “Can I ask you something?” You sounded a bit hesitant, and Bradley quickly looked up at you. 

“Yeah, of course,” he answered, wrapping one arm around your middle. “Did I already mess this up?”

“No,” you laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth to further prove your words. “I just…how did you get these scars?” You quietly asked, tracing your fingers along the raised skin on his face and neck. 

Bradley’s shoulders dropped in what you think is relief before he leaned back against the chair. “You finally noticed them, huh?”

Shaking your head, you shift on his lap so you could make your own wrap, then you lean against him again. “I noticed them the first night I met you, I just didn’t want to ask you something that might make you uncomfortable,” 

“No, it’s fine,” he gave you a toothless smile, running his fingers along the waistline of your jeans. “It’s stupid, really. I got really drunk at a party last year and I started talking out of my ass to Eli and Wes, the guys I live with. It got heated and I don’t even remember why or what I said, but it was apparently something pretty bad since Eli ended up shoving me into a cabinet and I went right through the glass door of it.”

Your eyes widen and you put your wrap down after only taking one bite. “Oh, my God,” you gasped, sliding your hand up and gently massaging the back of his neck. “Jesus, Bradley. And you’re still friends with them? You still live with them?”

“Still got the cabinet, too,” he nodded across the kitchen and towards the fridge. A tall, wooden cabinet was right next to it, and you questioned how you failed to notice it there until he pointed it out. The door was missing the glass, and the wood around it was chipped, indicating that it was broken pretty forcefully. “We use it as a place to put the recycle bin now.”

You turn back to him with a frown. “Bradley..”

His smile faded, though you knew it was a forced one anyway. “I know. They thought it was funny at the time, and I woke up the next morning with glass still in my face and shoulder. I looked pretty fucking scary walking across the street to the hospital with blood all over me,” 

You shake your head and bury your face against the side of his neck. “Fuck,”

Bradley huffed out a laugh, running his hand up and down your back. “I know,” he trailed off. “I had to lie to the doctor and say that I fell into it instead of telling him that my friend pushed me then left me on my bed afterwards.”

Groaning you press a chaste kiss to the healed scar on his throat before lifting your head. “Bradley. I hate your frat buddies,”  

He hummed in agreement, kissing your temple and keeping his lips there after. “I’m not very fond of them lately, either,” 

After you begged him to let you clean up since he cooked, Bradley guided you towards the living room. Flashbacks of your third date, if he counted it as a date like you do, passed through your head, and when you looked over at the far end of the couch, you could see the blanket you and he shared when you fell asleep. 

A smile takes over your lips as you fall onto the same spot you were in the last time you were here, and Bradley sits next to you. “Did you like it? Did my culinary skills impress you?”

“You know what, they did,” you answered with a laugh, leaning into his side when he lifted his arm. “You’re right, real food tastes so much better.”

Bradley laughed and then your phone went off. You pulled it from your pocket, leaning your head on his chest as you read the new text you had gotten. 

Luke: Are you seriously done with us?? With me? Come on, brat, we’re good together. 

Your brows furrowed and you let out a quiet huff. Bradley shifted and you knew he read it, too, when he asked, “Is that your ex?” in a deep grunt, unknowingly making you smile at the protectiveness in his voice. 

“Yep,” you sigh, not knowing what to say that would get Luke to back off. 

“Block him,” Bradley suggested and your eyes widened a bit. 

“What? You think I should block him?” You question, cuddling closer to his side as he nodded. 

“I don’t like the way he calls you brat, it’s condescending,” 

“Condescending?” You repeat with a laugh before scrolling through your long thread with your ex. “You really think I should block him? You think he’ll get the hint that way?”

Bradley hummed, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “Block him, baby,” 

You bite back a moan and click on the red button without thinking twice. “There,” you whisper, nudging his chin with the top of your head. “He’s blocked.”

You swipe out of the thread and were about to turn your phone off when Bradley stopped you. “Can I see it for a second?” 

“My phone? Why? You think I have more secret exes I should block?” You tease and hand him your phone, watching as he laughed and shook his head. 

“No, I just wanted to change something,” he mumbled, clicking on his own contact. “Fratley, huh?”

You laugh and nod. “It’s fitting,” 

“I like it,” he rasped, editing the contact name before handing your phone back to you. “There.”

You look at the two new hearts he added beside his name and smile, clicking on the picture icon before crawling onto his lap. “Okay, picture time,” you state, goosebumps forming on your skin as he runs his hands up and down your thighs. 

With your phone in one hand, you use your other to purse his lips together, his cheeks scrunching up cutely as you did so. You quickly take the photo and stare at it for a few seconds, a humorous smile painted on your lips. “Good?” He questioned with a laugh and you nod, turning your phone and showing him the picture. “Jesus.”

You laugh loudly, dropping your phone onto the cushion next to you. “You’re so cute,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss along the side of his face. “My turn.”

You hold your hand out to him and he laughs, unlocking his phone and placing it on your palm. “Have at it,” he said and leaned back on the couch as you opened his contacts. 

“Oh, look at that,” you trail off. “You already changed my name.” 

Bradley nodded smugly, taking his phone from you again and pulling you down against his chest. You laughed and braced your hands on his shoulders and smiled when he lifted his hand and took a picture of the two of you, his lips pressed to your cheek. You watched as he set it as your contact picture, cropping most of himself out and only leaving half his face in it. 

“Now that that’s settled,” he whispered, kissing you before you could get another word out and wrapping his arms around you. 

-

After kissing for what felt like hours, you had to go back to your place since you had a test you needed to study for that was for your morning class tomorrow. 

Bradley was reluctant to let go of you once you moved off the couch and pulled him into a hug by the front door. He pressed too many kisses to count all over your face before letting you leave with a pretty smile on your lips.

Then he was alone and already thinking about you. 

He turned around and headed up to his room, shrugging off his flannel that smelled like your perfume and tossing it onto his desk chair next to your hoodie. He kicked the door closed and fell onto his bed, his notebook opened to a random page as he read over his terrible handwriting. 

Not even five minutes passed before his bedroom door swung open and Bradley turned just as Eli and Wes stumbled their way into his room with beer bottles in their hands. “Hey, Bradshaw!” Wes greeted in a slurred voice, his arm draped around Eli’s shoulder as they fell onto the end of his bed. “Shit, this is more comfortable than mine. Can we switch beds?”

Bradley raised a brow and sat up against the headboard. “No,” he answered, knowing Westley was being serious with that question. “Do you guys need something?”

Eli lifted his head and narrowed his eyes, “What? We have to need something to be able to hang out with you? That’s low, bro,”

Bradley shook his head and looked back down at his notebook just as his phone went off from its place next to him. He put the book down and reached for the phone, but Eli was quicker and apparently wanted to be a pain in the ass as he grabbed it before Bradley could. 

“Ooh, Y/n, huh?” He laughed as he held Bradley’s phone about three inches away from his face. “Is this what’s been keeping you so preoccupied nowadays, Bradshaw?” 

“Give me my phone,” Bradley grunted, reaching for it. 

Eli held it away from him with a smirk. “Aww, is she your girlfriend now? You’re over Bri?”

“That was quick,” Wes chimed in, lifting his body up so he could look at Bradley’s phone as well. 

“Guys, I’m serious,” Bradley muttered, grabbing the device before Eli could lock him out of it with all the failed password attempts. There was no way he was telling these two fucking idiots that he had made it official with you. They were drunk off their asses and already didn’t take anything he did seriously. There was no way he’d be able to convince them that he’s being genuine with you. 

“Does she know she’s just a bet yet?” Eli asked as he took a swig from the bottle. 

Bradley was just about to read your text, but Eli’s question had his face heating up and his expression dropping. “No,” he answered instantly. “And she’s not going to know, because she’s not a bet.”

Eli rolls his eyes and swirls the beer around in the bottle. “Yeah, yeah, you said that last time, but look at it from our perspective, dude,” he started, leaning towards Bradley, the strong booze radiating off him. “Bri breaks up with you, you throw a party and come up with this sick, cruel idea to help get her back, decide to use Y/n for that idea, and then you spend all of last week with her. And now she’s your girlfriend? Come on, Bradshaw, you haven’t even tried to hide your true intentions.”

Bradley narrowed his eyes and set his phone aside. “What are my true intentions?”

“You’re hoping to make Bri jealous so she’ll come back to you,” Eli answered, shrugging afterwards as he finished off his beer. “Then you’ll dump Y/n, and we’ll pay you a thousand each.”

“I’m not going to dump Y/n-”

“So if Bri were to come up to you sometime within the next few weeks and beg you to take her back, you wouldn’t?” Wes asked, sipping the last of his own beer. 

Bradley wanted nothing more than to kick these two drunk guys out of his room. He had nothing to say or prove to them, and he wished they would just drop it. “No, I wouldn’t take her back,” he muttered, bringing his knees to his chest as he rubbed at his eyes. “I like Y/n.”

“More than Bri?” Wes asked and Bradley glared at him, making the blond raise his hands in defense. “Hey, you’re the one who made a bet to win her back.”

“Y/n’s not a bet-”

“Think of it as a bargain, then,” Eli cut him off, suddenly sounding more sober than how he sounded when he first came in. “Come on, Brad, you’ve come this far. See how it plays out. You keep doing whatever it is you’re doing with Y/n, and if she ends up falling for you, then you get two grand.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Bradley had no idea why he was still even entertaining them at this point.

“Then we’ll know that you really do suck at dating,” Eli laughed. “Just go with it, bro. It could be fun for all of us. And she’ll never know.”

Bradley didn’t say anything else, waiting until Eli and Wes got bored of the silence and left. When they were gone, he finally allowed himself to read the text you sent almost twenty minutes ago. 

Babes🩷: I forgot to steal one of your hoodies. Can you bring me that flannel you were wearing tomorrow? For no particular reason at all.

[ray4hotchner]

Bliss

❀ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: aaron hotchner x reader

❀ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: A short drabble of Aaron being a girl dad🤍

❀ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 1k

❀ 𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: Hey, my loves🥰 I just saw this video and immediately thought of Aaron and had to write something short and cute. Thank for reading and let me know what you think. Comment if you want to be tagged in other Aaron fics🤍

❀ 𝕞𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕔𝕔: @iyv-ray24

┌─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚┐

Ao3

└❀*̥˚──❀*̥˚┘

───────── 🍂🥧🕯️🍁─────────

It was one of those lazy Sundays. Aaron sat at the kitchen table, engrossed in his laptop as he tackled his emails. Jack, meanwhile, diligently worked on his science project at the kitchen island. You had just placed a Sunday roast dinner and a pumpkin pie into the oven before joining Jack to help him with his model of the solar system.

The kitchen was filled with a delicious aroma, accompanied by soft music playing in the background. The dark, rainy fall weather outside only added to the cozy ambiance of the room. Even after four years of marriage, you couldn't believe that this was your life now—your home, your family.

Little footsteps echoed through the house as Violet, your 3-year-old daughter, joyfully entered the kitchen. She proudly displayed the fourth outfit she had changed into in the last hour, undoubtedly leaving her room in quite a mess. But that was a problem for later. No one was going to stop her now, especially not when she was so enthusiastically staging a runway show for the entire family. She loved the attention she received from everyone and erupted into giggles whenever she got enough compliments.

Now in a pink, flowy dress, she gracefully walked up to you and her brother, performing a little spin while awaiting your verdict.

"Wow, Vi, this is the best one yet," exclaimed Jack, making his little sister giggle.

"He's absolutely right, sweetheart. This dress looks so pretty," you chimed in. Violet skipped over to her father to bask in some more of his attention. As she approached, he promptly pushed his laptop aside and turned his full attention toward her.

"Oh wow, look at this adorable little princess," he exclaimed.

She twinkled her eyes at him, tugging at the hem of her dress and performing a delicate curtsy before asking, "Will you dance with me daddy?"

"Of course, my angel," he replied, rising to his feet, which prompted giggles from Jack and you in the background. She had him so wrapped around her tiny fingers that he couldn't deny her anything.

"Can you hold me and spin really fast?" she asked sweetly as he lifted her into his arms.

"Of course, pumpkin. What song do you want?"

"Tangled!" Of course, 'Tangled' was her favorite Disney movie, and she never went to sleep without her Pascal stuffy.

"Alexa, play 'I See the Lights,'" Aaron said, and the soft melody began to fill the kitchen. They both started singing and swaying to the music, while you and Jack watched them with big smiles on your faces.

Seeing them together made your heart swell with love. You had known that Aaron was an amazing father from the moment you met him years ago. His gentleness and affection toward Jack had only deepened your love for him.

After getting married, Jack insisted on wanting a sibling, and you were confident that Aaron would be wonderful with your child too. However, he exceeded all your expectations.

Aaron had even reduced his workload to support you during and after the pregnancy and when they found out it was going to be a baby girl, both he and Jack had erupted with excitement.

Jack stood up, turned towards you, and extended his hand, asking, "Mom, may I have this dance?"

"How could I say no to such a handsome prince?" you replied, rising and taking his hand. Jack had grown so much taller since the time you first met him, when Aaron introduced you as his girlfriend. Now, he was a teenager and almost as tall as you, clearly taking after his dad in height.

Now, all of you were twirling around in the kitchen, and as your eyes met Aaron's, all you could see was pure love and bliss. The song was coming to an end when the oven timer went off.

"Thank you for the dance, my love," you said, kissing Jack on the head before walking over to the oven.

Aaron did one last, big spin with Violet in his arms, causing her to laugh cheerfully. With a big kiss on her cheek, he gently set her down, and she instantly ran over to her brother, clearly not finished with dancing.

The two siblings continued dancing while you pulled the pie out of the oven and checked on the chicken.

Aaron came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He buried his face in your neck, leaving little kisses there. You placed your hand on his cheek and tilted your neck to give him better access.

"I love you so much, you know that," he whispered in your ear.

You turned around within his embrace, your hands laced around his neck. "I know, honey, I love you too."

"I'm so grateful that you chose me," Aaron said with a mixture of tenderness and sincerity in his voice.

"Aaron," you began, your eyes welling up with affectionate tears, but he stopped you, his gaze filled with warmth and appreciation.

"No, really. You gave me this," he said, pointing towards the kids with his head, "you gave me a family and a home… happiness."

"And this is only a home and a family because you are a part of it, my love," you replied, kissing his dimple.

He gazed at the kids, a glimmer of nostalgia and love in his eyes, and then back at you, his expression filled with affection. With a mischievous smile, he said, "I think we should make another one."

"Another what?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and curiosity in your voice.

"Another baby," he answered with a grin, a playful spark in his eyes that mirrored his excitement.

"Oh no, Aaron Hotchner. Don't give me that look," you said, trying to pull away, but he held you close and brought you into a kiss. You were immediately lost in the touch of his lips.

"Eww, Jackie, Mom and Dad are being gross again!" Violet exclaimed, pointing with her finger at you, which made everyone laugh.

"Okay, okay. The dance party is postponed until after dinner. Now, everyone, wash your hands and help me set the table, please," you announced, pushing Aaron away after whispering suggestively into his ear, "We'll talk about this tonight."

─────────────────

𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: @callm3c0nfus3d @mrs-ssa-hotch

[superblysubpar]

Princesses Can Slay Dragons Too:

dad!eddie munson x mom!fem!reader

an Easy Like Sunday Morning story

summary: you're overworked and stressed, Eddie's an oblivious but well meaning husband & dad, and a trip to the cabin with familiar faces might be just what you all needed. | even if a fic is not marked 18+, my blog is

7.7k words (listen, I know it has no business being this long. I worked on it for a year. Idk what happened, okay?)

warnings: please read the new "general warnings" on the masterlist linked above - "reader" has a "name/nickname", mentions of Ronance, mentions of alcohol, mom stress and a little bit of description of some blood/injury and parental panic/ descriptions of shock about it. There is a twinge of "poetic", quick descriptions of smut as well as brief discussion of "unplanned" pregnancies.

This started from an ask last March, which I've since lost (so sorry anon if you're still out there), and it grew and sat and grew some more and then sat some more and now here it is. I've grown very, extremely, emotionally proud and fond of it. Hope ya like it! 💛

Summer, 2004

“Baby, volume,” your voice calls out over the faint music playing, the thrum of wheels against the highway and the wind. Eyes remain shut, but furrowed lines form above your brows when you hear the familiar ding of a coin being grabbed. A palm rests on your thigh, fingers squeeze gently around it as the music of the level starts its loop again. 

You need a coffee. Or thirty. Yes, thirty is good. 

“Squirt,” his tone full of warning, yet somehow still sounding sweeter than the syrup that clings to all of their fingers and the gray fabric of the old van’s seats.

Despite the early morning breakfast stop at McDonald’s being nearly twenty-four hours ago, and your insistence on packed sandwiches and veggies for lunch, and a stop for a sit down dinner - the stale scent of greasy food feels heavy in the air. Which has your brain cycling through the list that will rid your family of the trip when you reach your final destination - get out of the car, wrangle them into pajamas, teeth brushed, fight about sleeping when it’s already almost morning, clothes into washing machine, air out the car, make the grocery list for the week…

Screw coffee - you need a shower, you need a shot of alcohol, you already need a vacation from your vacation. 

A particularly loud grunt and the sound of something hitting or fighting or shooting has you opening your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them to find the dark highway lit by two gold headlights, showing off the yellow lines flashing past the driver’s window. Your mouth parts, ready to be the one to tell them no, like you always are, when he stops you. 

He grabs your hand, his thumb soothing over your knuckles as his voice drifts gently into the backseat, “Come on, I don’t wanna take it away…”

It’s endearing, the way he always tries, the way he gives them a couple of chances. Because at this point, you’re ready to take the damn game and chuck it out the window. This level is haunting you, all you’ve heard every second of every day, even when you’re peeing or trying to shower. You’re pretty sure you’re dreaming in the pixelated graphics, the sound effects now accompanying your daily tasks. 

A loud sigh falls from the backseat and with it, you’re certain the console is nudged one level lower. 

You hate that of all of your children, the one most like him is still awake. 

Sure, they’re all little gremlins, heathens, as he likes to call them - little tenacious mini monster versions of him that drive you up the wall but somehow make your chest ache with too much love. 

But this one, this one takes the cake every time. 

Eddie beats you to it again, the silver of his rings glinting in the green light of the dashboard as he lets go of your hand to reach into the back without looking. Out of the corner of your eye you see his bicep flexing, gently shaking the tiny knee in his big hand as he talks to the road sternly, “Lace. Volume off completely until I say otherwise, or Mario and Luigi are my best friends the rest of the week, capisce?”

“Caposh,” she grumbles, big red chucks swinging up towards the console and back down, her little legs don’t quite touch the ground yet, much to her dismay. 

You keep reminding her that she has lots of time to be as big as her siblings, that her ever growing shoe size and the jeans you bought for the upcoming school year (which she’s already complaining are too tight - remember, you need to ask Katie about hand me downs from Liv, or shit, maybe even Grace, this weekend) tell you she is going to keep growing - and fast. Part of you can’t wait, and the other part wishes she’d slow down. 

The sound vanishes completely and Eddie’s hand finds its way to your thigh again when you sigh. The part that wishes she’d grow up faster stirs, lit by the flicker of resentment when she listens to him so easily and not you. 

Eddie’s fingers run up your thigh, then back down, skin beneath the denim buzzing as he squeezes softly and clears his throat. 

“I think someone deserves an apology though, don’t you? ‘Cause I believe I heard you were asked already…”

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks and you can’t help but look over your shoulder at her when she does. 

For once, her eyes are on you and not the game, big and brown - just like his - and truly sorry. You smile softly as her brows furrow under bangs that just refuse to stay straight. She blows them away with a big huff as she whines, “It’s just so hard.”

Your head nods, temple resting on the seat as you murmur, “Yeah, I know. Thank you for turning the volume off when your dad asked though, I really appreciate it.”

Eddie swallows, his finger aimlessly circles over the skin above your knee as he blinks at the road. 

He’s always amazed when you do that. 

Far more patient than anyone deserves, far more understanding than any of them appreciate, and much too good to him. For him. Especially with how things have been lately. 

Eddie knew it’d been a little rough, with him being gone so much and the kids’ schedules just growing more cramped as they got older - summer was no longer the lazy days of kids riding around on their bikes and doing squat. It was full of sports and clubs, friends, all requiring a constant need to be dropped off, picked up, carted too and fro on seemingly hellbent on never lining up schedules. He’d been trying, he really had, to help you balance it all, but he had tunnel vision for things at work, he was so focused on his own shit he didn’t realize how much everything was affecting you. 

How much being alone with three kids, two goldfish (scratch that, one, but still), a dog, and a house that seemed to have endless tasks to keep it running was breaking you. 

He finds your hand and pulls interlaced fingers to his lips, kissing your knuckles, your wrist, your palm, all while keeping his eyes on the road. You close yours again, trying to focus on the soft press of his lips to your skin and not the reason why he’s doing it. 

You know he’s thinking about last weekend.

On Friday, Caroline had complained that you only sewed new straps on her ballet slippers instead of getting new ones altogether. She was practically in tears because all the other girls in class had new leotards, new skirts, and new shoes and you promised you’d figure something out. She retreated with red cheeks and a slam of the bedroom door, stereo blaring behind it, the cusp of terrible teenage years promising to be worse than the twos. 

After that, Michael shoved you off when you tried to hug him as you dropped him at the school for a baseball practice with an exasperated, “God, mom, stop!” - nine was grown up and he was much too cool to be a momma’s boy anymore apparently. 

And to top it all off, Lacey had been following you around the house, that stupid game dinging and singing everywhere you went, one of the fish died and Lacey asked when it was coming back, and you somehow burnt the hamburger helper for dinner.  

When Eddie got home, he found you hunched over the coffee table next to a precariously placed glass of red wine, a sock in one hand and a shirt in the other, piles of laundry neatly folded around you and your favorite movie playing on the TV. If it weren’t for the position that was sure to have your back feeling rough tomorrow, your soft, even breathing revealed you were dead asleep. 

He had tried to ease you up, move you to the bedroom while trying not to wake you like he used to when his body was much younger, but you had shot up at the touch of his hand, the lightest sleeper of a mother of three. You blinked heavy eyelids while mumbling through sleep thick words about lunches for the two eldest who would be gone all the next day. Eddie had assured you he’d make them, and you were fairly certain you were back to sleep before your head touched the pillow. 

The next day though, something inside of you snapped. 

It had been better than the one before, but not great. You hadn’t showered, there was a leak in the kitchen that hadn’t gotten any better all week. The only break you had all day was picking the kids up from their activities, and making them a snack as soon as they dropped gear in haphazard piles in the entryway. 

After hours on hold, you just started clanging around with tools you didn’t know how to use, your head throbbing from the lack of coffee or water and the sound of Mario grabbing another coin somewhere to your right. 

Where was the real plumber you had asked Eddie to call? Maybe, if you concentrated hard enough, Mario would leap out of Lacey’s console, climb down the drain, and fight off the little mushroom guy who was-

You smacked the wrench against the pipe, repeatedly, like it had personally threatened you. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Sweetheart, stop! You’re gonna break it!” 

Eddie grabbed your wrist, pulling you up to see him standing with pizza boxes and staring at you with wide, blinking eyes. For a second, the sight of short curls starting to gray on the ends and lines next to eyes that were constantly squinting because he was smiling or refusing to wear sunglasses, had you forgetting you were mad, or stressed or…maybe you were just tired?

He cocked his head, trying to catch the gaze you let fall to the floor quickly as the kids shrieked about him being home. Eddie didn’t even get his question of if you were okay out before arms were wrapped around his waist and legs, all vying for his attention. 

You had swiped at your nose to ward off the familiar sting, pulled down plates and started filling glasses of milk and juice, before shoving the casserole you’d had prepped into the freezer. 

Then he snapped his fingers, smoothing a hand over Caroline’s hair and said, “Oh, hold on. I think you’re gonna like what else I brought home a lot more than the pizza.”

He left for the hallway, returning quickly, holding something behind his back that she tried to peek at and he tsked, singing, “Uh-uh-uh. Hold on. Your mom told me you were upset about your ballet slippers…”

Your shoulders rose, the pour of apple juice freezing over the glass. 

He didn’t. 

He smiled at you, oblivious, then at Caroline’s squeal of excitement and he kept going, “These aren’t new, but my co-worker’s daughter barely used them and…Ta-da!”

Eddie held out a shoebox with essentially brand new shoes and your body felt numb as you listened to her scream how much she loved them and him, squeezing him in a fierce hug as he kissed her temple. 

Caroline held them up to you, proudly, and you smiled, nodding, saying something, you don’t even remember what. You ushered everyone to the table. 

Lacey stood next to her chair, eyes darting over the hand-held game clutched in her fingers. 

“Lacey, put it away, time for dinner.” 

Ding! Bloop, bloop, bloop blah-bloop-de-bloop. 

Eddie slapped pizza onto plates, licking stray sauce from his thumb, “How was everyone’s day? What’d you do?”

“Lacey, I’m not telling you again. Put the game away.”

Her eyes flew up to yours, something fiery and far to recognizable behind them that made you blink as she just said, “No.”

“Oh!” Eddie passed you pizza, oblivious, “How was lunch? Did dad do as good as mom?” He ruffled Michael’s hair as your daughter and you glared at each other. 

Caroline nodded her head enthusiastically around a too big bite and Michael turned to you, pizza in his mouth on display as he talked, “It was so good. Can dad make our lunches every day? His was way better.”

You stood up from the table, without warning and without a word, walked to your bedroom, and slammed the door. 

Were you having an adult tantrum? Maybe. Were you proud of it? Absolutely not. But the rush of tears that fell down your cheeks and the sob that overtook you was the kind of angry crying you simply do in private and you had needed to get there quick. 

Footsteps jogged down the hallway behind you, the sound causing you to turn the lock on your bedroom door through blurry vision and gasps around your tears. As the knob tried to turn, you moved away with a hand over your mouth until the back of your knees hit the bed. 

“Babe, open the door.” Eddie’s voice was soft as the knob rattled again. 

“Liv, what the hell, open the door.” 

You choked on a sob, fingers still over your lips so you barely got out, “I’m fine, Eddie, just…have dinner without me. I’ll eat later.”

The handle spun back and forth again, the sound of his forehead hitting the wood and his pained tone slicing through you, “Olivia, please open the door.”

You curled yourself on top of the bed, watching the handle through blurry vision slowly stop moving. Closing your eyes as the tears fell swiftly, you prayed it was the kind of crying that would just knock you out and put you to sleep, because god, did you need to sleep. 

Only a few minutes later, maybe not even, the door swung open to reveal Eddie on his knees with a flashlight between his lips and a screwdriver in his hands and you, sobbing on the bed. 

He jumped up at the sight of you curling your arms around your waist harder, at the way you rolled away from him and pressed your wet cheek into the pillow. At the way your hoarse voice called out, “Please leave me alone Eddie.”

The door closed, the lock clicked, and there was a distinct sound of both items he held dropping to the carpet with thuds. The bed dipped and the heat of his body curled behind you, fingers gently brushed over the damp skin of your cheek and neck. 

Your body shook with more tears, eyes squeezing closed tighter when he pressed his nose to the back of your head while his arm wrapped around your waist, and he waited. 

The tears eventually slowed, your chest started to fall and rise more evenly, and the light filtering in through your curtains started to turn lavender, then blue. Eddie managed to remove your jeans without waking you, and he pulled the duvet up over your shoulder as he bit his lower lip raw. Your face still didn’t look relaxed, like it was crying and worrying even in your sleep. 

He left the room with with his fingers rubbing at the back of his neck, walking past the bathroom where water sloshed over the counter and soap slid down the-

Taking several steps backwards, his mouth opened, then closed at the sight in front of him, before he finally found his words and quietly asked, “Whatcha doing?”

His three children stood in a line in the mirror, looking at him in the reflection. Lacey held a stack of plates and silverware on the left, on her toes, pink socks (that were supposed to be white, but there must have been a laundry incident he was unaware of) fully submerged in bubbles, her little arms hoisting them to rest on the counter halfway. Caroline stood in front of the overflowing, sudsy sink, her hands invisible inside it, and Michael next to her with a rag and plate. 

“We’re washing the dishes,” Caroline shrugged, like it was obvious. 

He leaned against the doorframe, rubbing at his jaw as he hummed, “I…see that. Why are you doing that in here?”

The three kids blinked at him, and he tried not to smile, because you weren’t kidding that they eerily looked like him when they did that. They were all clearly confused, and then Michael said, “The kitchen sink is broken. It has been all week.”

Eddie closed his eyes, your cursing under your breath and beating up of the pipes when he got home making much more sense now. 

All week? Why hadn’t you told him? 

Shit, had you told him?

He cleared his throat and he tapped on the frame. “Right. Well, thank you for doing them. Try to stay quiet, mom’s sleeping.”

His body had barely turned out the door before Caroline called out, nervously, “Is she okay?”

Eddie wasn’t a fan of lying, even if it was to protect feelings. But the sight of his three kids with concern evident on each of their faces told him they’d know if he did anyways. Something told him they already knew she wasn’t and it was him who didn’t know the answer. 

He sighed, entered the room deeper and kissed the tops of each of their heads, before he threw some towels over the floor that had puddles of water accumulating.  

“I think she really needs to sleep, and I’ll talk to her later. But I think you guys doing the dishes really helps. Thank you.”

So while his kids did the dishes in the bathroom sink and you slept, the dog and…one…? goldfish kept him company in the kitchen where he inspected the sink. 

It was an easy fix, but he didn’t have the part, and his stomach tensed with guilt as he thought about how you probably, definitely, asked him to look at it or call someone right away and he forgot. A simple drive down the street to the hardware store tomorrow, he’d have it fixed in less than an hour. 

He put the tools away in the garage, above the label for them that you must have made and he went into the small office space in search of a post-it to put on the sink. The office was intended for you, but years and kids and projects went by and soon it became a dumping ground of all things house. 

When he reached the desk, he found what he was looking for. There were plenty of post-its, in a variety of colors, lined up in a neat row above a large, tightly and neatly filled calendar. 

Eddie swallowed as his fingers brushed over the names of his kids, him, the fucking dog and fish - all with their own color. The house, the bills, the errands…all of it had colors, schedules, a science, a system.

But the thing was, you weren’t a part of the system - you were the system.

There was nowhere, in that entire calendar, that had anything remotely relaxing for you on it. No dinner or wine night with any of the girls. No book club with Nancy anymore, maybe because they moved, but he had a feeling it still wouldn’t be there if they hadn’t. No dates with him. He couldn’t remember the last time he took you out, or hell, made you dinner - when was the last time he even cooked dinner for the whole family?

He swallowed as he read over the entire month, and the next and the next. Anything that would have been considered free time, or your time was full of laundry, grocery shopping, dusting the fucking baseboards, because apparently you do everything? 

And Eddie knew he had colosally, monumentally, brutally, fucked up. 

So when the kids were in bed, and the kitchen was clean, and the lunches for the next day were packed, and the laundry was folded and put away, Eddie crawled back into bed behind you. 

He didn’t think you were awake, carefully letting his arm curl around you and his lips brush your shoulder in a wordless goodnight, an apology, a promise to talk about it as soon as you woke up. But then your words floated out and hung in the dark room and a tear slipped down his cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie sniffled, trying to reign it in, he cleared his throat, but you were already rolling to face him and he had his palms pressed to his eyes as his words left him all scratchy and on the brink of a full blown sob. 

“Sweetheart, don’t you dare fucking say it again.”

Your fingers had curled around his wrists and tugged gently, until watery eyes were blinking at your own and you shrugged and whispered, “But I am.”

His lips found yours in a bruising kiss, noses squished together and gasps of air between parting mouths, fingers clutching at hips and necks as your legs tangled. 

When was the last time he fucking kissed you like he meant it? Like it wasn’t a quick goodbye, goodmorning, or a hey, doll, how was your day as he half listened? 

He shook his head, mouth catching yours in quick kisses between each softly spoken word, “No, I am.”

Your palms pressed to his cheek as your leg hitched over his thigh, breathless as he traveled over your jaw and down your neck for the first time in what felt like months. 

Maybe it had been. 

“Can you,” you tugged on short curls behind his ears as his tongue traced your collarbone which made you both groan, “Jus-just let me apologize?”

Eddie practically growled out the word no before his lips were back on yours. 

It was fast fingers pulling at clothing and sharp teeth nipping at lips and skin, no foreplay, ‘just fuck me’ quick, and quietly because of the kids, kind of sex, until it wasn’t. 

It only took him three thrusts to realize it wasn’t what he wanted. Quickly becoming memorizing touches that glided over skin and held with care, it was lips that whispered apologies and all the things he loved about you into yours, quiet and passionate pushing and pulling with each other, and hands gripping the others as you came together and said everything you couldn’t with intense eye contact, fingers deep in the curls at the back of his head as his name left your mouth only to be swallowed by his.  

His lips brushed down your shoulder and back up, over your collarbone and chest as your fingers scratched at his scalp gently. 

He hummed against your throat before whispering, “I think we should go to the cabin next week.”

“Eddie…” you started softly, already panicking about the missed events the kids would have to make up, the packing, the-

“Stop,” he kissed your jaw, then hovered over your face so his big, brown, sweet eyes could look down at you, “I can hear the stress coming out of you, and I just got it all out.”

You laughed quietly, fingers pressing to your eyes as you shook your head. Unconvinced, and if you were tired before, he’d just made you even more so.

Eddie kissed at your fingers, your nose, your cheek until he was nudging at the fingers again with his nose. 

“Baby, I promise, it’ll be a good vacation. I think we could all use it. And I swear, I’ll be the parent. You kick your heels up and get drunk on shitty wine with Katie, okay?”

And here you were, doing just that. 

The late/early morning arrival was not the shit show you were sure it was going to be. The kids listened immediately about being quiet entering the cabin at the late hour, especially after Eddie said if everyone woke up, the entire day on the lake would be ruined. 

You woke up, without an alarm, for the first time in…you didn’t know how long. Greeted in the kitchen by Steve’s wife, Katie, quietly squealing and grabbing you in a hug that seemed to melt the tension from your shoulders. Eddie handed you a steaming cup of a coffee accompanied with a kiss on your temple and a swat to Steve’s chest when he tried to do the same. 

The kids were already showered, dressed, fed - fruit and waffles and minimal syrup thankfully - and outside playing. You had your suspicions this was all largely due to Steve and his wife’s doing. If you dwelled on it too long, the comparison to how much better they were at the whole parenting thing than you could drive you insane, so you tried to ignore it. 

There was only one argument with Lacey about the Nintendo, and Eddie snatched it and pocketed it and simply shrugged at her scowl when he did and said, “Told ya, babe.” Michael complained about lunch, but only until Nora, Steve’s eldest and seventeen, said “Oh, I love chicken salad” with a wink in your direction. You’d never seen Michael eat so quickly before and he was a garbage disposal on a good day. 

And now, your heels were “up” leaning against the deck’s railing from your spot on the floor, a wine glass was in your hand. Katie was telling you all about Nora’s new boyfriend, Charlie, who Steve positively hated, as Eddie and him stood nearby, with beers and watching meat on the grill or whatever men do. 

“Charlie is the least of our worries though,” she waved her hand with an eye roll, sipping the pink wine with a grimace, “I mean, you know. They’re monsters. Why’d we have them again?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “If you think yours are monsters, mine might literally be the devil incarnate.”

She snorted into her glass and you laughed, swiping at your lips with a shrug, “Okay, too far. But god, they’re…I don’t know. But, seriously, you and Steve…”

Your voice fell as the boys yelled over the grill at two of the girls doing cartwheels dangerously close to the fire pit. 

“You guys, you really know what you’re doing. You’re a good team.” You smiled sadly, looking at the back of Eddie’s head and then at her. 

She was watching you closely, a tilt of her head like she was trying to figure you out, before she grabbed your hand and squeezed it and admitted, “I yelled at him about loading the dishwasher wrong last week. We didn’t talk for three days.” She frowned and shook her head and looked over at him and he flipped his spatula and winked at her and she smiled and turned back to you. “Things aren’t ever what they seem on the outside. We all have shit. It just matters if your shit is something you can trudge through together. If you can help clean it off each other.”

She frowned at the wine she started pouring. “I don’t think this wine is helping with my metaphors, but you get what I mean?”

You nodded, taking in Eddie’s profile as he talked with his hands and got louder as he told a story to Steve. 

“Yeah, yeah I do.” 

It was silent as you both stared at the guys, sipping your wine, until you whispered, “So he loaded it wrong, huh?”

“So wrong!” She exclaimed, grumbling, “Who puts plates all willy-nilly? They go in a straight, neat-”

“I said I was sorry!” Steve shouted from the grill, his hands on his hips as he glared at the two of you. 

Katie stuck her tongue out at him and he shook his head with narrowed eyes and she grinned, a quiet and not as silent as they thought conversation about her paying for that later. 

You looked away, smiling into your wine glass when you caught Eddie’s gaze. He looked a little shocked when you made eye-contact, his cheeks flushed pink and you cocked your head with bunched eyebrows at him. 

An unanswered silent question though, because the kids all shouted as a black SUV pulled up the long, gravel driveway. 

A tall, lanky body jumped out of the backseat of the car before it was even in park, a head full of bouncing red waves shooting across the grass towards the literal swarm of children screaming, “Aunt Robin!”

She was down, on the ground, in literal seconds, the children forming a nice heap on top of her that the four of you all yelled about getting off at the same time, sharing grins that only parents who grew up doing the same thing and feel wrong for telling them not to could. 

Your eldest, was bounding over to the car, along with Olivia, ready for the third to round out the little trio of three musketeers - Zoey Wheeler. 

As they hugged and squealed about being back together, you all started down the steps to greet the late arrivals. 

You couldn’t help but notice Caroline standing a touch away from Olivia as the two other girls gossiped about something from school. 

But then Nancy was enveloping her in a tight hug, “Hey kiddo, hear you’re gonna be in the windy city pretty soon.”

Too preoccupied with your own waving of arms to tell her to stop talking, you didn’t notice Eddie whip his head over at Steve, who blinked with his hands raised. 

Your head fell as Caroline turned to you with curious eyes and a quiet, “What?”

Eddie opened his mouth to explain, but you were already talking, him blinking behind you.��

“I…I haven’t even told your dad. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday. You and me, driving to Chicago to go to this dance store that Zoey and Olivia go to. It’s not new stuff, but their dance troop shops there and it’s all really nice stuff and - oof!”

Caroline’s arms were squeezing you harder than they ever had, face pressed against you as her words got lost and muffled, but didn’t lose their meaning when she said, “Thank you so much mom.”

Your fingers ran over her hair, lips pressed to the top of her head as you enjoyed the hug for as long as she’d let you. “Of course, honey. Happy early Birthday.”

The girls quickly started discussing what they’d do on the trip, and Nancy winced out an apology you told her was unnecessary as you hugged, all while Eddie gulped down his beer and Steve narrowed his eyes at him which made Eddie wave him off, grabbing another beer out of the cooler. 

“I am in need of assistance,” Robin called weakly, from her spot on the ground, now abandoned by all the children who were quick to return to their activities. 

Nancy sighed and drawled dramatically, “Coming, dear.”

Robin groaned from the ground, but giggled. “Thank you, sugar-pie.”

“Robs, I’ll leave you down there…” she warned. 

“Fine,” Robin shrugged, blue eyes staring up at the matching sky, “Dingus will-”

He was already hoisting her up, and grabbing her in a big hug only the two of them could find comfortable from the amount of squeezing suffocation. 

Nancy looked at you and Katie and sighed. 

“Wine.”

You were both already handing your glasses over with smiles before she could finish the word. 

She was thoroughly tipsy by her third glass, and the stress you could sense when she arrived - maybe it was a thing all you mom’s could sense, or maybe it was because of being old friends - was melted from her face as she called out, loudly, excitedly, “Robin!”

“Yes, my love?” 

Robin’s legs swung as they dangled from her hoisted up spot on the railing by the men. A baseball hat turned backwards over waves tinted red and silver and a sly smirk resting on her lips as she looked at her wife with more love than should be possible in a human. 

Nancy’s cheeks flushed and you all snickered into your glasses, because you all knew what was coming next. 

“I, uh,” Nancy cleared her throat, as big, blue eyes tried to blink innocently, “I need to talk to you. Inside.”

Robin grinned and nodded, “Lead the way, Wheeler.”

Nancy frowned, but clumsily made her way inside with a giggle. 

With a hop down, a salute, and a quiet, “Duty calls, boys,” Robin followed, all of your “boos” and “ow-ow-ow’s” slammed on by the door. 

Katie pulled out a stack of cards, the boys finally came over and joined you, and your legs crossed over Eddie’s lap as you hid your deck from him with a terrible poker face. 

He soothed his thumb over your ankle bone, wet his bottom lip before he grinned at you. “Baby, remind me to never take you to Vegas.”

“You have taken me to Vegas.” You touched your cards to your nose, hiding your grin.

Eddie sucked his teeth as he nodded, “Right, right, how could I forget.”

“Seriously dude,” Steve moaned at his cards, frowning, “Vegas was a mistake.”

Katie smacked the back of his head and he flinched, but with a glint in his gaze at her, “What the hell was that for.”

“They got Lacey because of Vegas,” she scolded, “It wasn’t a mistake.”

“Believe me, I remember. I don’t remember much, but that I do. It’s sort of hard to forget the results of that trip. What with the children who came out of it. Lacey, Annie and-”

“Luke is stupid!”

Steve sighed at the now sherbert colored sky. He groaned, “I knew it was too good to last.”

You rolled your eyes as you dropped your legs from Eddie’s lap as Lacey stomped up the stairs, huffing. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie sit up, but you were already grabbing at your daughter’s crossed arms and pulling her towards you. 

“Woah, super mean word, let’s think of a better one.”

“A buttface!” She frowned, but didn’t resist your embrace as she climbed onto your lap, a privilege that was fleeting. 

“Nope, try again.” You shook your head, letting your chin rest on the top of her head as a hand soothed up her spine, while hers gestured wildly in search of the right word. 

“He’s…he’s…impossible!”

You hummed, great word - especially for a seven year old. 

“Why is he impossible?” You asked quietly, Katie taking the hint and getting Steve and Eddie to go back to a semi-normal conversation and their cards. 

Lacey fiddled with your shirt collar, grumpy and big lips pouting just like her dad. “We were playing Dragons, and he said that I had to be the princess and stay in the tree house while he fought the dragon and saved me! I don’t want to just sit there!”

Steve smiled around the lip of his beer and Katie rolled her eyes, looking at you with a mouthed, “We’ll talk about that later.”

“Ah,” you adjusted in your seat, hugging her closer as her fingers roamed to the necklace around your throat. “I would be frustrated by that too. I like helping. I don’t want someone to come rescue me, either.”

You glanced up at Eddie who smiled softly at you, watching intently. 

“Right. So I’m not playing. I don’t like him anymore,” she huffed, breath warm on your already sweaty skin and fingers leaving something sticky and smelling like pine trees all over you. 

“You don’t, huh?” 

“Nope,” she popped the ‘P’, but her gaze wandered over to the yard where the boy in question fought his sisters with sticks. 

It took you a bit, and maybe you were just soaking up the smell of her strawberry shampoo, or the way she fit perfectly in your arms, but you finally asked softly, “Hey, you remember Dimitri and Anya?”

Lacey shifted with a dramatic sigh, but she nodded. 

“I’m pretty sure they didn’t like each other either. But, then Anya showed him she could do anything he learned to do, right? And he listened to her? She helped save him in the end, remember?”

“Spoilers!” Steve grimaced and Lacey giggled which he smiled and booped her nose at. 

“So,” you lifted your daughters chin, big eyes that reminded you of someone else peering at you unwaveringly as you continued, “You go tell that Harrington boy that Princesses can slay dragons too.”

“They can?” Lacey asked, unsure, unconfident, in a way that melted your heart, put it back together and melted it again. 

You nodded and cleared your throat, trying not to cry. “Absolutely.”

She started to climb off of you, but you tugged at her waist, brushing a curl behind her ear as you smiled, “And baby?”

“Yeah?”

You kissed her forehead and whispered, “It’s okay to need some saving sometimes. If you want or need the help, kay?”

She nodded, kissed your cheek, and hopped off, bounding down the stairs with a sing-song call to her tone, “Ohhhh, Luuukkkee!”

Lifting the cards from the table, you smiled at the sound of your daughter antagonizing a Harrington and before you could make a jab at Steve, fingers were under your chin, and Eddie was tilting your head, lips on yours and stealing all of the air from your lungs. 

His tongue swiped over your bottom lip and his hand cradled your jaw as you opened for him without thought, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt until loud clearing of throats came from your right. 

You broke away with a gasp, but Eddie pulled you back in for one more press of his lips and a whispered, “Sorry,” as he sat back down looking not sorry at all. 

Steve tried to hide his grin as he threw a chip into the pile and Katie grinned at you as she quipped, “Wow, guys, you’re worse than the lovebirds inside.”

Eddie didn’t look up from his cards, but he raised his eyebrows. “I seem to recall an incident in my home on my kitchen counter on my daughter’s first birthday, Katherine.”

“Touche, Edward, touche,” she beamed as Steve choked on his beer. 

He quickly changed the subject, swiping beer from his lips as he looked at you. “You’re gonna have to show me how you did that.”

Your wine glass froze halfway to your mouth and he laughed, coughed, covered his mouth with his fist. “I meant the talk with Lace. Not the kissing. Now that you guys’ll be closer we can…”

Eddie hung his head as Steve trailed off and you quirked an eyebrow. “Closer?”

Katie took a large gulp of her wine and Steve gestured to the grill with a hook of his thumb over his shoulder, “I’m gonna…”

“I’ll help!” Katie jumped up and followed. 

“Eddie, what’s going on?”

He sighed, set his cards down, scooted his chair closer to you before his hands grabbed yours.

“I got a promotion, sort of.”

“Wh-what? Eddie, that's great!” You squeezed his hands, your heart hammering in your chest because he wasn’t looking at you still. The knowledge that there wasn’t really room for a teacher to get promoted stirring in your brain. “Wait, how…”

He grimaced, thumbs swiping over your knuckles as he nodded. “Right, yeah. So, it’s not so much a promotion, as it is a completely different job, at a completely different school. Or um, University.”

“In…in Chicago?” You were starting to piece it all together.

“Mhm,” he hummed, biting at his bottom lip that you instinctively reached up and pulled away from his teeth gently. He finally looked up at you, worried, and apologetic, but hopeful. “It’s, it’s a really great job. Tons of benefits. At the university. Way more pay. Flexible hours. I’d-I’d be home so much more. And I know, I know that moving is insane. But I just…”

He rambled, and you got lost, because you were thinking about telling the kids, about uprooting your entire life, about never seeing the patch of wall that the kids heights were on again. Your routine, your system, your grocery store, all pulled out from under you. 

But then you then thought about how you’d only been on this vacation for a day and how much less stressed you were. How Steve and Katie and Robin and Nancy would be in the same city as you again. About how happy your kids were with all of them, how happy you were with them. The support you’d have. The promise of more time with Eddie. The adventure.

“Okay,” you said softly, interrupting whatever he was saying.

Eddie blinked at you, mouth parted in surprise. 

“Okay? Okay what?”

You shrugged. 

“Okay, let’s do it. Let’s move. Take the job.”

Eddie swallowed, he scooted closer and he cupped your jaw, thumbs grazing over your cheekbones as he murmured. “Okay, let’s do it, like you’re excited and want to, or okay let’s do it, like you don’t think you have a choice and you’re stressed and sad and I’m gonna have to unlock the door with the screwdriver again?”

“I mean,” you laughed, brushing over the worried lines of his forehead as you did, “Okay let’s do it. It’s gonna suck to move and tell the kids, but I think…”

They always tell you, you see stuff in slow motion in moments of panic, fear, but you never really believe it until it happens to you - seeing it all happen before it did. 

“Oh my god!” 

You were pushing back from Eddie, yelling your daughter’s name as she climbed up a tree, her foot about to step on a branch that looked dead and rotting even from this distance, and then she was falling. 

There was a boy shouting beneath her, and his older sister’s shouting at him, screams of mom and dad that all four of you raced towards. 

Everyone’s footsteps except Eddie’s slowed when you saw the eyelids fluttering over brown eyes pooling with big, crocodile tears and the leg already swelling with bright red trickling down from it. 

Katie was shouting about grabbing the girl’s from inside, about ambulances and driving. Steve was pulling at all the other kids, reassuring them it was fine, and Eddie was focused on Lacey and Luke. 

You don’t really remember what you did. You had arms around you and you spoke, but you don’t know what you said. Ushered into a car by big hands and a little one grasping yours tightly. 

In the end, all it was, was a deep gash in her leg, nothing broken. Luke a little worse for wear with a fractured wrist, but he beamed when Lacey signed her name on the cast and asked you how to spell Princess before it, then kissed his cheek and told him thank you for saving her. 

The rest of the week was the same as the first day after that, save for the two kids who huddled next to each other on the couch on the deck, their temples pressed together as they shouted at the screen of the Nintendo Eddie gave back almost immediately. Day three of watching his kid that close to a Harrington boy made him rethink the whole move and said it wasn’t happening anymore, which Steve promptly replied with, “Dude, they’re seven. Wait till she’s seventeen and dating a guy named Charlie.”

Nora’s head had perked up from coloring with the younger kids, an expression almost identical to her father’s as she scowled. “I thought you liked Charlie!”

“I do, I do sweetie.” Steve rubbed at his temple and gave Eddie and you a look that said he really did not like Charlie. 

Time moved too quickly, and the light-hearted moments turned to memories, and soon bags were packed by the front door, and everyone was restlessly sleeping, not ready to say goodbye just yet. 

Which is how you found yourself quietly making your way down the stairs to the kitchen, when you woke up to the empty bed and cold sheets. 

You found him in the living room, eyes glued to the hand held device, his thumbs jabbing at it while he frowned. 

“She wasn’t kidding,” he whispered, the girl in question tucked into his lap, her leg propped up on a pillow and drool spilling down his white shirt. 

His arms flexed with each press, tattoos that were rarely on display anymore dancing under each movement. Short curls that the flecks of gray in stood out in the moonlight. Lines of worry and laughter all over his face, brown eyes gifted to all of your children because of the same ones maintaining their gaze on the console. 

You slid onto the couch next to him, curling into his side with a yawn and a gentle rearrange of Lacey’s legs onto your lap. Fingers gesturing for him to give it to you. 

Eddie handed it over, his arm scooping Lacey closer to his chest while his other wrapped around your shoulders. 

You kept your eyes on the game as you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

The breath huffed out of his nose hit your jaw as he quietly laughed, “Babe, what?”

Mario leaped over blocks as you told him again, “I’m sorry. I froze, I don’t know what happened. Thank you for taking care of her, of all of them, I don’t-”

“We’re a team,” he kissed your cheek, his smile stayed pressed to your skin, “You know, a wise woman once said, ‘it’s okay to need some saving sometimes. If you want or need the help.’”. 

A hum from your lips that fought a smile as his fingers squeezed your shoulder. You couldn’t help but grin at the screen though, when you pressed A for the final time. 

“I think I know her. Same lady who said Princesses can slay dragons, too, right?”

The screen lit up with little fireballs, trills and chimes coming from the console signifying you beat Bowser - this time, all of which you quickly tried to cover up as Eddie shushed. 

“Mommy,” her sleepy voice muffled in his chest.

“Yeah, sweetie?” You whispered, console silenced. 

“Volume,” word almost lost to the yawn she gave before she was snuggling back into the crook of Eddie’s elbow and was out again. 

Eddie tried not to snort or let his laughter shake her as your mouth fell open in shock and he took the Nintendo back, moving on to the next level. 

You shook your head at your daughter, and glanced down at her wrapped and injured leg, at the peaceful features of her sleeping face. 

“Man, you’re lucky you’re so cute,” you sighed. 

It was silent for a while, and your eyelids started to flutter closed too, when Eddie spoke again. 

“I totally thought Bowser was a turtle.”

[schemmentis]

La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 20

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

Summary: The arduous task of leaving, and rebuilding.

WC: 1.9k

Over the weeks that those close to you adjust to the news of your little family of four being gone, you're all recovering in the safety of the hospital. Cat's is the slowest going. You and Melissa, while still in quite a bit of pain, are out of the woods. So is Rosie, though she isn't her usual hyper and always moving self. She’s content to sit quietly with you and occasionally snuggle up close to her sister in her hospital bed. 

Cat slowly, painstakingly, gets there- after another surgery and plenty of medication and watchful eyes of professionals. Her little eyes open and stay that way more and for longer periods of time. Once she's stable, you and Melissa know you can't wait any longer. You have to leave. Before word somehow gets out that you are, in fact, still alive. 

Cat's doctors contact a highly respected colleague in New York to coordinate them taking over her care as soon as you get there, essentially. Before you can leave though, you have one more meeting to sit in on. This time, instead of at businesses or the police station, it's in Cat's small hospital room. Melissa is sitting on the edge of your eldest's bed, holding a tiny hand as Cat catches a bit more sleep. You're sitting in a chair at the other side of the bed, holding Rosie in your lap. 

Agent Shaw and Agent Danik greet Rosie enthusiastically when they arrive, happy to see her getting a little bit back to her usual self now that her sister is improving as well. Rosie hugs them both tight, like she used to do Luca and AJ at Sunday dinners. Like she only ever does people she likes. You almost want her to hate them, but your little girl doesn’t understand that these two are a big part of the reason that you’re in the mess you are. If they hadn’t suspected you to be a part of the hit on Bobby, none of this ever would’ve come about. But even you’ll admit, they’ve done a lot for you in the last weeks. They’re almost constantly standing guard with you, and you’ve even gotten to get to know them a bit better and see more into their personal lives. 

The agents take the other chairs in the room, sitting opposite you and Melissa both. Danik hands your wife a folder while Shaw hands you an identical one.

“You each have copies of the documents for the house in New York. We'll be able to mail you the proper ones once we sort out your aliases- along with more documents for you both and the girls. Right now, we've got the plane tickets just with a different last name, to keep anyone trying to from immediately realizing it's you, though I doubt anyone is looking at this point. But once you're in New York you need to have completely different ones.” Danik explains quietly. 

“The girls will be confused by calling them different names…” You mutter, flipping through your folder. 

“They’re already confused enough not being able to go back home,” your wife sighs softly as she runs a hand through her hair. 

“I know,” you reply just as quietly.

“We could…change them to the more common versions.” Melissa suggests. You hear the pain in her tone. When you were pregnant the two of you went through more names than you could count. The meanings and their significance mused to you both, but especially your wife- with Cat carrying on a family name so dear to her. Rosie was the name she'd picked herself and added the middle name her sister also carried down from their family. 

“The nicknames would be the same.” Melissa says when you look at her, a tiny shrug of her shoulders as her fingers gently card through Cat's hair. “It would confuse them less.”

“Baby, are you-”

You don't even get to ask if she's sure. Melissa's head shakes as soon as you start. “We'll know what they mean and where they came from even if no one else will. It doesn't matter if it helps keep them safe.”

Reluctantly, you nod. The safety of your daughters is the only reason you're doing this as you are. Though originally you weren't going to almost die and fake die for it. You guess it is safer this way.

“You'll have to think of ones for yourselves, then. You're more likely to be found than the girls, especially if you kept your first names.”

You sigh. “We have to have them by the time we're in New York, right?” 

“Yes. We'd prefer if you had them already but it's more important that we get you out of here right now. We'll provide an income every month, a set amount to help you get by.”

“I'm sure we'll still need to work.” Melissa says, looking to Agent Dakin.

The agent smiles wryly. “Unfortunately we can't provide you mafia level money.”

“I dunno.” You say, shutting your folder as you glance to your wife. Your shoulders shrug. “Could be fun to do somethin’ totally normal for once without worrying ‘bout the rest. ‘Sides, we both have business experience. We'll figure it out.”

“Neither of you can open a business again,” Danik warns. “Publicity will not do you any favors… even in a big city like Manhattan.”

Melissa sinks. She was hoping she would be able to open another restaurant… she’d make good money in such an affluent city. But that possibility was just thrown out the window.

A few hours later, you, your wife, and your girls are on an airplane in a private area, sorting through everything.

“So… Catherine Ann and Rose Marie,” Melissa sighs as she writes your daughters new legal names. “Last name?”

You shrug. “Should we stick with Italian, or go Irish this time?”

“Probably Italian,” your wife tells you as she scribbles down a few things. “And we need new names.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I think I want to go with Saoirse... freedom,” you say softly as you rock your youngest daughter in your lap gently. “And...” you do a quick search on your phone for different Italian last names.

“Hm?” Melissa hums. 

“I’m looking at common last names, and I like... Fumagalli, or.... Carozza,” you tell Melissa.

Your wife looks at you with those sparkling green eyes of her, and she then rolls them at you. “Do you have any idea what those words mean in Italian?”

You quirk your head and raise a brow. “No? Should I?”

“Fumagalli means smoked poultry,” she deadpans.

“And I love a smoked bird,” you quip. “And it’s a cool last name!”

“And Carozza literally means mozzarella cheese.”

You laugh out loud at that one. “I knew that one sounded familiar... but I do like mozzarella cheese. It’s my favorite kind!”

“Good lord,” your wife grumbles as she writes down both last names on a lined piece of paper as ideas. “You have to be kidding me. How were we a part of the mob, and yet you come up with ridiculous shit like this?”

“You love me,” you smile at her as you set a soft hand on her knee.

“You’re damn lucky.” Melissa grumbles as she writes a few of her own ideas down. 

You peek over her shoulder, seeing the list of last names, your suggestions followed by her own. “What about your name?” You ask. 

“Raphaela.” Your wife answers with no hesitation, making clear she's considered this about as much as you have. She glances back at you with a small, almost shy smile. “It means God has healed.”

“I guess in a roundabout way, he has, huh?” You say. “Barb would've liked that one.” You add in a quiet murmur.

Melissa doesn't miss it, nodding and muttering her own agreement as she turns back to the list of last names. “Vinci.” She says aloud, looking back to you once more. “To conquer.”

You can't fight the grin on your face at the meaning. “I like that.” You admit, quickly stealing a kiss from Melissa. “But you're sure you don't want to be mozzarella? I know it's your favorite too.” You can't help but tease.

Melissa rolls her eyes, gently shoving you back to your own seat space. “I don't want to be cheese or smoked poultry, Thank you.”

When your flight lands you and Melissa have agreed on your new identities. By the time you're in a cab and nearly to your new home, you've failed your additional attempts to persuade her into your more silly last names. Not that you really wanted to. It just gave you both something to focus on fake arguing about to pass the time.

“We'll have to wait for all the documents back before we can enroll the girls back in school.” You say as you walk with Melissa up the steps of your new house. Each of you holding one of your girls in your arms.

“Maybe that's for the best.” Melissa says from next to you. You reach behind the porch light, feeling blindly for the key you were told you'd find hidden for you. You make a mental note it might be a good idea to change the locks at the first opportunity, just to be safe. “At least it will give Cat more time to recover.” Your wife adds as you slip the key into the lock.

“Guess we'll tell them it's a little vacation?” You suggest, glancing over your shoulder.

“I don't know.” Melissa says, making a face. “That will just make them more confused when the vacation doesn't end.”

You sigh but nod, knowing she's right. “We've got time to figure it out, at least.” You say, pushing the front door open. You look back to your wife. “You ready? First step of the rest of our lives.”

“Amore, that step happened when we got on the plane, if not before that.” Melissa says softly. Still, she puts a hand on your cheek, thumb gently rubbing at your skin in affection and nerves just the same. “Hopefully there's beds, at least.” She mutters before kissing you once.

“I don’t think I could sleep on the couch again if I tried,” you grumble. 

You let Melissa step in ahead of you, pulling the door shut behind you and flipping the lock back in place. You trail after your wife, glad to find a sofa in the living room. It's certainly not like your living room back in Philly, or like one actually lived in but it's something.

You don't linger there, keeping a pace behind Melissa down the hallway. She opens one of the doors, finding the bathroom. The next is a bedroom, blissfully with a bed. Again, the room is not fully decorated but the basics are here. It's enough, for now.

You and Melissa carefully nestle your sleeping daughters to the bed. You don't even bother checking the other bedroom. The two of you are already content to squeeze onto the edges of the bed with the girls. It's been a long few days. This house doesn't feel like home, not yet, if it ever will, but with the feel of Melissa’s hand slipping into your own and squeezing, the sound of the girls’ quiet breathing, it's enough of home for you for right now.

[gurugirl]

Forgive Me, Father | Part 1

Summary: Harry is a priest with a dark secret but he's got a big heart and he's looking for someone special to share it with. When Y/n confesses her sins, he thinks she might just be the one.

A/n: Part 1 of 3 - this is 16k words. I haven't really written anything with this type of dom/sub play before - though this first part doesn't get too deep into it, you'll know it when you read it.

Warning: Dom/sub dynamics, mentions of religion and sin, floggings for pleasure and penance, mentions of sexual situations and masturbation, sexual tension, mentions of caging, punishment, cheating

| Read on Wattpad | Priestrry Masterlist

Harry was a holy man despite his particular desires. He became a priest relatively young but he took all the necessary steps; went to seminary for four years, studied theology and philosophy as an undergraduate, made his vows then became a man of the cloth. He was a deacon, his transitional role for just over a year in Manchester the first time he felt tempted by a beautiful young woman in the congregation. But he resisted. He knew the devil was trying him. But his holy side won out over his flesh.

He desired to act on his flesh, though. And he might have if he’d been given a moment alone with the young woman. He imagined what it would be like but it was easy to resist when he hadn’t really had a real opportunity. All his formative years had him at all-boys schools as well. His four years in seminary were spent amongst young men his age. It wasn’t until his fourth year at seminary that he realized he was even attracted to men. The realization was a difficult one for him at first, being a man of God, a Christian on the path to priesthood. It was troubling to him so he pushed his sexual desires down until they only manifested in his sleep with salacious dreams and waking up wet in his underwear.

When he finally became ordained and was given his own congregation he felt he’d made it at last. The road to get where he was took a long time. The diocese wouldn't take a man under 30 in many cases, so he found a place that would because he knew in his heart he was ready. There were no shortcuts to becoming a priest, a five-year-long journey at minimum. For many, the transitional period took a lot longer than it did for Harry. A year of transition as a deacon is the minimum and that’s all it took for Harry to be called by God to his own church.

Being a 27-year-old man with his own congregation in small-town Wisconsin felt daunting. Harry was not from the US and he’d never been to Wisconsin before arriving in the town. The parish was near the shores of Lake Michigan. It was quaint and quiet but it was home to nearly 100,000 people. Not so small that he'd be lacking for company.

Harry worked and lived in the same buildings for three years diligently. He was kind to his congregation, a good priest and leader, made friends with many of the people who were members, and always had a warm meal offered to him through an invite to come to the houses of families who attended his services.

He didn’t always take them up on the meals. Harry enjoyed being alone at the end of the day but most evenings he’d find himself at someone’s home eating a big dinner with people he usually considered family. On his 30th birthday, his congregation held a small surprise potluck for him after service one Sunday. He felt blessed to have such a wonderful group of followers. He truly loved them.

On a Friday evening, Mrs. Brockton had called Harry and invited him to dinner. Harry had a feeling deep down that he should say no. But he liked Mrs. Brockton. Maybe he liked her a little too much. He would never act on the carnal, it was in his vows to remain celibate, though the rules had been loosened somewhat over the years for priests, Harry was invested in the old way of doing things. God and his priesthood came first for him. The sin of lust led many to take a husband or a wife just for the sake of their flesh. Harry would not give his heart to anyone but God.

But part of that reasoning for going to the extreme with his vows was because of his unsavory desires. He never acted on them, but he fantasized and would have vivid dreams of the things he wished he could play out in real life. There was an aspect of denial of the flesh that he got off on as well. It made him feel superior in some ways; the continual denial of his lust and sin.

A man of thirty years, he was still a virgin, and happily. Proudly even. He also could count how many times in his life he'd masturbated when he became weak to his flesh. He rarely sinned in such a way but when he did it was always atoned for with a flog at his back and his chest.

Harry brought with him only his Bible when he arrived at Mr. and Mrs. Brockton's home. She told him not to bring any food or drink, but that she would have everything taken care of.

And she most certainly had everything taken care of. Down to the detail she conveniently forgot to mention, that Mr. Brockton was gone for a work trip in another city for the evening.

"I cannot stay Mrs. Brockton. I hope you do understand. We must at all times keep even the appearance of evil at bay. If others were to know I was here without Mr. Brockton they could get the wrong idea," he spoke as he clutched the Bible over his heart. The home smelled divine. She'd obviously been cooking up something wonderful and she clearly had taken the time to freshen up her appearance as well. Not that she needed it. Mrs. Brockton was a beautiful woman, even Harry could see that.

"Father Styles, please. Can we address one another casually? You can call me Natalie if you don't mind that I just call you Harry. And... look, I know I should have told you but I'm lonely and I need counsel tonight. As a friend. As someone I trust to not tell anyone my problems. George being gone tonight is the only time I'll have for this. I wanted this to be private."

Harry frowned. He didn't love it when his members called him by his first name, but it wasn't the end of the world. He'd always been warned about getting too close, too familiar. Friendly was good, but there was a line. However, he supposed just this once, and for Natalie, he could. She seemed to genuinely need him and his advice. So he relented and they sat in the living room while the dinner finished cooking in the oven.

“Fath… Harry,” Natalie said as she looked at Harry flustered, “I don’t know what to do about George. He keeps going away on these trips and I’m starting to wonder if there is something else going on.”

Harry listened to Natalie’s story. She had the feeling George was cheating on her but she had no proof. During dinner, Natalie set next to Harry and her demeanor changed. She was lighter and bubblier as the subject had shifted. Harry had given her some advice but he ultimately told Natalie that worrying over something without proof would take her eyes off God. That it did her soul no good to jump to conclusions. However, even as Harry said that he wondered himself about Mr. Brockton taking off on so many overnight trips.

After the plates were cleared and Natalie brought out a bottle of wine to share with Harry, they moved back into the living area and sat on the comfortable couch to continue their discussion. Harry had prayed with Natalie before they sipped their wine.

Natalie loved the way Harry's deep voice called to God when he spoke the prayer. The way his intense eyes would watch her as she spoke. His pink lips were kissable and his hair always looked so well-placed.

Harry was an attractive man. Many of the women in the congregation would gossip about how good-looking the priest was. Harry was tall, well-built, and gorgeous really. He was also smart and so well-behaved around all the women that it drove some of them crazy. Occasionally some would attempt to dress in a way that would attract him, and catch his eye, but it never worked. Harry was committed even if internally he was lusting.

But Mrs. Brockton, one time, had seen how Harry looked at her when she wore a particularly low-cut dress to Harry’s after he’d invited a small group over for prayer after Sunday mass. He would sometimes invite members of his congregation over for a drink and to pray after services. This wasn't too out of the ordinary.

After two glasses of wine, Harry was feeling a little loose, as he normally does under the influence. It hadn't been much wine, but he didn't need much as he usually refrained from drinking outside of these social settings. So a little was all it took.

This is when Mrs. Brockton noticed Harry's obvious gaze at her bosom. He even licked his lips and then looked down at his hands as he swallowed thickly. She saw it all. So she tested the waters and went to him before leaving with her husband.

"Will you send me off with a quick prayer, Father?" Her intentions were not pure, and Harry could feel it in the way she spoke, the way her eyes roamed his body, and the bite of her lip.

But he indulged her because denying her at that moment would raise more questions.

It was a fast little prayer. Mrs. Brockton grabbed Harry's hands in hers and as he prayed he felt her warm fingers gently move across the skin on his hands. It filled him with lust. Just the feel of her skin on his hand. When he opened his eyes, mid-prayer, a quick look, her breasts were in view again and they were delectable. Harry darted his gaze from her cleavage to her eyes and she was already looking at him with the smallest grin on her pretty face so Harry quickly shut his eyes and finished the prayer before sending everyone away.

That night was one of the rare times he masturbated. He'd grown hard in his pants as everyone was leaving and Mrs. Brockton made a show of swinging her hips and with the little hug she gave him on her way out of the door had her pressed against him and he felt lust in his heart.

He felt shame for it and he knew she saw him looking. He hated that his body wanted to have sex. Normally all of his lust would be reserved for his dreams He would wake from dreams where he'd be fucking men and women and coming. He'd dream of having soft lips sucking on his cock or he'd be doing the same. Or he'd wake to find that he wasn't in between a woman's legs licking over her soft parts. In his waking life, he got no action. But in his dreams, he was a sex maniac doing ungodly things.

He'd gone to counsel about his dreams and had been told they were only dreams and that the flesh was fighting the devil inside of him when he was asleep, but as long as he didn't act on it while he was conscious, he would be absolved. It also turned out that other men of the cloth who remained celibate were afflicted with the same type of dreams. Though, Harry knew that his were of a particular caliber, and quite taboo so he never told the clergy of the details.

But now here he sat in Mrs. Brockton's home with her husband gone and she was wearing something that rose up her thigh as she sat. Harry did his best not to notice how pretty she was or how good she smelled. His belly was full of her delicious cooking and now, on his second glass of wine, he began to feel that familiar buzz and he was getting loose. Comfortable.

Mrs. Brockton moved to sit directly next to Harry on the couch and put her hand on his knee. She'd seen how he was looking at her. And once again, her intentions were not pure. She knew Harry was a virgin. She wondered what he looked like under all the clothes he wore. He was slim and tall and seemed to be particularly buff in his chest region with a nice tight ass. She wanted a piece of him.

Harry closed his eyes when he felt Natalie's hand on his thigh, but she acted as if it was nothing while Harry was reeling inside, being the touch-starved virgin he was.

"So, that was the gist of the play we went to. I really think it would have been better if they'd cast Ramuel as Moses instead of Carter. I think Carter did a great job, but he's too young, don't you think?"

Harry was barely listening. He was just trying to work on keeping his boner down. Mrs. Brockton was beautiful and Harry was easy to rile up so her hand on his thigh was sending him. Harry didn’t normally put himself into precarious situations like this for a reason. He wasn’t sure how strong he actually was. He’d been wise all these years to stay away from circumstances that put him alone with someone he felt attracted to. But now, he was here with Mrs. Brockton and she was coming on to him, or so it seemed. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to resist her for much longer when his mind started to wander with all the possibilities.

Suddenly he stood up, "I should leave, Natalie. Thank you for the meal and I hope my advice was good."

Natalie stood quickly and grasped Harry's wrist, "Please. Finish your wine first, Harry. It's a really good bottle, expensive, and I would hate to dump the rest. I can't finish the bottle on my own," she stepped in closer looking up at the handsome man, hoping she could persuade him.

Harry sighed and nodded. He could finish his glass of wine as a way to be polite. But he really wanted to leave because he was already thickening in his pants, his imagination was taking him down the dark road toward his lustful, forbidden fantasies.

"Okay. I'll stay and finish my glass. I do need to use the bathroom, however."

The bathroom was in the hallway near the two bedrooms. Harry closed the door behind him and turned the faucet on to drown out the noise of what he was about to do.

He felt he had no choice. He couldn't be sitting in Mrs. Brockton's living room with an erection so he needed to take care of it. It wouldn't have been proper to be around her in the state he was in.

"Father forgive me..." Harry whispered under his breath as he pulled himself out of his pants and spit into his palm. He stroked himself gently and swiped over his tip before spitting down onto his penis again for better glide.

Harry kept one hand on the counter to brace himself as he held his cock in the other. His pants fell to the floor after a couple of minutes of pumping himself and the belt smacked into the tile with a clank.

He was nearly there, almost done when he heard a knock at the door then Natalie’s voice, "Are you okay, Harry? I heard something..." and then suddenly the door was opening, despite Harry having been sure he'd locked it.

Natalie stood in silence as she looked down at Harry's large, swollen cock with his fist wrapped around it. She knew that he had big hands for a reason - the better to hold that large thing with. She stepped in as Harry tried covering himself but it had been too late. She'd seen what he was doing.

"I'm so sorry, Natalie, I was..." but his words were cut off when she lowered her hand to him and put her palm over the stiff cock, and wrapped her fist as much as she could, around him.

"Don't be sorry. Please, Harry..." she dropped to her knees and kept her hand on his shaft as she looked up at him. Her free hand smoothed up his thigh, where she saw a forbidden tattoo. His thighs were well-muscled and thick. She moved her fist over Harry and looked back up at him.

"Please. Let me help. You need relief, Father," and with her eyes on his, she kissed the side of his thick shaft and Harry groaned and closed his eyes. He had been so close to orgasm and now he was suddenly caught in the haze of lust and sin. He knew it would be easy to just let her finish him off.

He was powerless to stop what was happening. It was a dream he'd had for so long to have someone sucking him off. His flesh won out at that moment. He’d never had that kind of opportunity present itself before and he was surprised by how quickly he gave in once her hand was on him. But it felt so good. Better than he realized it would.

And Natalie's mouth was soft and warm and wet and Harry came so fast - as he always did because he was hard up. She slurped his cock and drank him down when he came with a moan and he pressed the back of her head down over him on instinct.

Harry tried apologizing again. He dressed in haste but Natalie assured him he had nothing to worry about with her. He'd only need to ask forgiveness from God but his secret was safe with her as long as her secret was safe with him.

And this led to other, more intimate encounters with Mrs. Brockton. She and Harry had begun a small affair. She took his virginity and taught him how to eat, as she called it. Harry had deep guilt about what he'd done with a married member of his congregation but she seemed to love it. She would even beg him at times. He had a hard time resisting her once he’d gotten a taste.

Soon, Harry learned that he was quite dominant when it came to sex. Mrs. Brockton loved all of it. He'd fuck her in the rectory and the confessional, but usually, it happened in the privacy of his parsonage. He would gag her and bind her to keep her quiet and then have her tied down and spread out so he could fuck her in any way she could take it. Harry particularly got a taste for anal. Natalie had never had her bum fucked before Harry but he was slowly turning into a man who craved and fantasized about sex all the time and he played out some of his unusual kinks with Natalie.

He issued her spankings with his hand and occasionally his flog, which he also used as his punishment for carnal, sinful thoughts, now it was used to whip Mrs. Brockton. He couldn't do it often, though, because Mr. Brockton would have taken note of course.

Eventually, though, Mrs. Brockton wasn't enough. Harry's appetite for the carnal was something unshakable. He'd been introduced to sex in the flesh and not just in his dreams, and now he couldn't have it often enough and with Natalie being married she wasn't available as he needed.

He'd find himself going into Chicago or Milwaukee and meeting women and men at bars. He began experimenting with what he liked and he really liked just about everything. He loved pain and he loved to issue pain. Part of it was because of the guilt he felt and the pain was a way to ask for forgiveness, but eventually, Harry stopped feeling too bad about wanting to have sex. And after a year of exploring, he felt like all the time he’d resisted temptation had been such a waste now that he knew what it was like. Harry was a sexual being but still held onto his spirituality.

He enjoyed being a priest but he also enjoyed being a man who loved to fuck. Loving God and fucking were quite equal in his eyes and now he would not ever be without either. But continuing in his priesthood in this way must change eventually. Harry began to come up with a plan that could have him being a spiritual leader who could also have deranged sex when he pleased.

It took some more years before Harry's plan started to come to fruition. He remained a priest in small-town Wisconsin while he enjoyed his flesh most nights of the week. Once, he had a young woman stay in his parsonage in a small cage, which she did so willingly. Harry would come and go as needed but when he'd return to his parsonage he'd bring his little pet out and fuck her dumb and then put her back in her cage.

Of course, she had a job and she had taken off only a week of work so she could be imprisoned and degraded by the hot priest. So that didn't last because she had responsibilities. But Harry wished it could have lasted forever. He thought how nice it would be to find someone that would want to be his willing captive to cage. To have someone he could keep as his submissive pet and do with as he pleased. He obviously wanted the person to also enjoy the scenario with him, he wasn't a monster. But now it was his goal. To find someone who could be his and whom he could do with as he pleased. A submissive who would never want to leave him.

He'd tried it with various people. At first, they liked it. Some wanted it more than he did. But it was a matter of finding the right one. Someone who he could connect with and feel engaged with and vice versa. He had a young man with him for a few weeks (which was the longest stretch he'd had one person as his pet) but eventually Harry came to realize that he needed something else. Someone else. The young man was lovely and might have been a great submissive companion for years to come, but it wasn't quite it. So he continued his search for the perfect person.

One Sunday during service, Harry caught the eye of a beautiful woman. He immediately imagined her waiting for him in his cage, tied up, blindfolded, red swollen stripes over her back and her thighs from the flog... Someone to keep forever. He tried to push the feelings down as much as he could while he was in the middle of his prayer but she was incredibly alluring.

Many times he did find appealing men and women but after speaking to them for a bit realized they wouldn't be quite fit for the job. It took a very particular kind of person to do the things Harry required. So he intended on meeting this beautiful woman and chatting with her. Typically, he could tell rather quickly if they could be a candidate or not. Normally people were not. Most of the time he settled for a good evening of sex instead when he would have much preferred to have found his companion.

But Harry was also alluring. In fact, once he began having sex regularly more and more people would recognize how attractive and persuasive the priest could be. His confidence increased immeasurably once he began having sex. His charm was undeniable. The man was irresistible to many. But of course, being a priest, most did not know the dark secrets he had. He kept his escapades quiet. Mrs. Brockton knew that he was kinky but they’d long ago stopped their tryst and he could trust her to not say a word to anyone.

The young woman who he spotted during his prayer was near the end of the aisle toward the front and to Harry, it appeared she was alone. The woman took note of how the attractive priest kept looking her way. His light green eyes lingering in her direction, the way at one point after a bit of a gaze he smiled shyly and looked down and she could swear she saw him blush. But of course, Harry was acting. He was putting on a show for her. To draw her in.

And it worked. When the service was over, everyone flocked to Harry as they so often did. The young woman lingered and waited for the crowd to thin before she approached the priest who looked like a god.

Harry saw her coming toward him from his peripheral. He knew she'd come to him. So when he turned to her he acted surprised and flattered that the new girl was coming to greet him.

And she ate up his act, combined with the underlying sensual nature of the way he would lean in to speak and his voice would drop so that only she could hear, the way he'd touch his lips "innocently", and the way his eyes took her in as she spoke, roaming her face and her neck as if to size her up. She felt like the only person in the world at that moment. But he was still very priestly, Godly, at the same time.

Harry decided to take his time with this one. He wanted to invite her over right away for a drink to feel her out but he wanted to play up the godly priest as much as he could. It would be a real test when it came time to learn what she liked. Would his being a priest deter her? If so, she wasn't the one. But, if it only drew her in more, if she was more intrigued by his godliness and still wanted to explore with him then she could be a good fit.

Harry had plans that evening to join a family at their home for dinner. The Sothebys were quite wealthy and Harry very much enjoyed being invited for dinner. They had the most lavish meals with the best wine and bourbon. Harry never drank much but he did enjoy a vintage cabernet sauvignon from time to time, or an aged, smooth bourbon on the rocks.

Tonight’s dinner had been a special occasion, according to Mrs. Sotheby. They had their niece with them to visit from out of town for a while. Harry was given a glass of a cab and directed to sit in the parlor with Mr. Sotheby and his son for a chit-chat while the ladies finished dinner. Harry truly did care for all members of the parish. He loved them and his empathy and kindness toward them were evident. Everyone trusted Harry and he was the best listener. It’s what made him so good at being a priest. Not only did he love God and knew the word well, he understood humans and empathized as a sinner himself. He loved listening to his members and giving advice. He enjoyed praying for them and with them. Despite Harry’s dark secret, his heart was big and he was loving.

When everyone was ushered into the dining room to eat, Harry sat in the spot he normally took closest to the window where the sun would oftentimes be shining in, but on this day, the sky was overcast and there was a cool breeze coming in from the North. Winter was on its way.

Harry had finished his glass of wine as Mrs. Sotheby brought in a tray with Beef Wellington surrounded by roasted vegetables. It looked delicious and Harry was hungry for Mrs. Sotheby’s cooking. And he just knew she must have used prime beef tenderloin in the Wellington because the Sotheby’s did not skimp on the quality of ingredients for all the years he’d been dining with them.

“Father, you’re low on wine. Here, let’s get that taken care of…” Mrs. Sotheby spoke as she turned toward the kitchen, “Y/n!! Please bring that bottle of Caymus with you, hon!”

Nearly fifteen seconds later she was there. Harry’s fantasy girl. He saw her enter the dining room with a bottle of wine in one hand and a bowl of bearnaise in the other.

She didn’t look at him immediately but he knew she was aware of him. She must have been. This dinner was made with him in mind, and it was also welcome for her visit.

Harry remained stoic as he watched her place the bowl down near the large serving platter and then she looked up to let her eyes land on the priest’s. She smiled and he watched her take a deep breath as she rounded the table toward him, “Here, Father… let me top you off,” her sweet voice could almost be tasted. Harry watched her move as she lifted the bottle and poured the red liquid into his glass. Her neck was slender and her jaw was soft and feminine. Her hair was pinned back on the sides, which was different than how she wore it a couple of hours earlier at mass. Harry noted the slight natural blush over her cheeks and he thanked her when she placed the bottle down on the table.

Harry was pleased when she sat next to him. She didn’t speak much but ate her food and smiled throughout. Harry noted she only had one glass of wine and that she seemed a tiny bit nervous. He wondered if he should address her nervousness with her in private or not. He was searching for any excuse to speak to her alone.

Dinner was amazing. Harry had his tummy full and two glasses of wine during dinner and then afterward a glass of bourbon on the rocks as he normally did. The men sat in the parlor once again to chat and wind down as the women cleaned up. But Harry didn’t like this setup anymore. He enjoyed chatting with Mr. Sotheby and his son, but he wanted to see Y/n and assist in clean up, like the gentleman that he was.

“I think I’d like to help clean up the kitchen with the ladies if you don’t mind, gentleman,” Harry spoke as he got up from the cushy seat.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Sotheby and Y/n were giggling about something and wrapping the food when Harry entered. Y/n quickly turned to see him and her eyes widened when she looked at Mrs. Sotheby. Both women stopped what they were doing and looked at one another with a secret in their eyes.

“Father, what can I help you with?” Mrs. Sotheby rang out as she continued her task.

Harry strode into the room casually with the confidence of a man who knew what he was doing, “I’m here to help, ladies. Felt wrong to let you two do all the clean up when you’ve also cooked everything and made this dinner possible. The least I can do is help out.”

Harry began to roll up his sleeves as he walked toward the sink, intent on washing some dishes and assisting in the best way he could.

“That’s really not necessary, Father. We love having you join us. I know you always insist on helping but truly, I’ve got Y/n here with me now and I think you should enjoy your conversation with Hank.”

Harry looked toward Y/n and she was wrapping up the vegetables with a small, shy smile on her face as she looked down. Adorable, he thought. He began to rinse the dishes in the sink and turned to look at Mrs. Sotheby, “I knew you’d say that. But I’d rather serve than sit.” Harry loved using corny sayings like that. His congregation ate it up and they always thought of Harry as someone who loved telling a good dad joke here and there. And he did. He enjoyed his dual life and cherished both of his sides.

When the dishes were done and the kitchen was clean, Harry finished off his glass of bourbon and prayed with the family before leaving. He had everyone stand together in a small circle and hold hands, being sure to stand near Y/n. Her fingers were cold in his large palm but he cupped her hand in his securely, occasionally loosening and then tightening around her fingers.

The prayer was a quick one but the feel of Harry’s hand around Y/n’s had her heart pounding. Harry’s work there was done. He’d eaten a good meal, had plenty to drink which would put him right to sleep, got to watch sweet Y/n blush and listen to her speak on various topics from time to time, and got her a bit flustered as well even though he hadn’t really done much. She seemed to fit his type quite perfectly.

He would have much preferred to have brought her to his bed to play with her at the end of the night, but he knew he needed to suss her out first. She was, after all, a niece of someone wealthy in the congregation and he couldn’t just go off and fuck her and then invite her to be his submissive companion. The work of getting the right one was a slow, arduous process that couldn’t be rushed. Especially when it came to someone that might be attending his services. He’d like her as a pet immediately but he could be patient to be precise in his actions.

The following week at mass Y/n was there again. Harry was happy to see her pretty face amongst the congregation and she kept her eyes on him as he spoke. Harry used his incredible self-control to not look her way as often as he wanted. And his self-control was certainly a thing he used in many circumstances. He was, after all, a man who’d abstained from sex for 30 years and who barely allowed himself to masturbate. But now, he’d been having sex for nearly three years and he no longer abstained from it or masturbation. But his self-control was still incredible and so not looking toward Y/n was not that difficult.

Harry had wanted to reach out to her during the week, an excuse to talk to her under the guise of giving her advice or counsel if she chose. But he stopped himself during the few moments of weakness in his mind. It also helped that he had a woman in his parsonage with him for a few days the week after meeting Y/n. So he wasn’t hard up, but he did think of Y/n every day, which was not his norm. The woman was meant to stay longer but Harry dismissed her Sunday morning before mass. They’d had their fun together, but Harry was not interested any longer. He was interested in Y/n now.

When service had come to an end, Y/n left quickly, which put a frown on Harry’s face. He spoke with his members and prayed with them as he always did and when he was invited to dinner with the Fortanels, he declined this time. He wanted to find Y/n and perhaps have a moment with her. He would never get anywhere with figuring out anything about her if he didn’t try to have contact with her.

So he did what any man would do who wanted to get to know a woman he was interested in, he called her. Not her directly, but he dialed the Sotheby’s number and asked to speak with Y/n when Mr. Sotheby answered the call, “Hi. It’s Father Harry here. I just wanted to see if I could speak with Y/n for a moment. I felt something in my heart that needed to be said to her today and I couldn’t find her after mass this afternoon.”

When Y/n spoke into the receiver Harry couldn’t stop his smile from taking over. He told her something he made up as his reason for the call and asked her if she’d like to join him the following evening for a small prayer group that he held on Mondays in his parsonage. Of course, Y/n was quick to say yes. She was intrigued by the handsome priest.

That evening, Harry didn’t have one of his regulars come over for a night in his bed as he normally would. He resorted to what many single people do, masturbation. He thought of Y/n’s smooth skin and her lips, her big round eyes, and her shy demeanor. On the very surface she seemed like a good candidate, but how could he know if she truly would fit into Harry’s world the way he wanted until he got to know her better?

Before the prayer meeting, where there would only be three others in attendance, Harry set up his room, put away his flog and ties, covered the cage, and locked his bedroom door for good measure. Then he set up the living space where everyone would sit, knowing that two of those coming were a couple and would sit next to one another, which meant Y/n would inevitably be sitting next to Harry. He readied coffee and pulled out two bottles of wine and lit a candle. It was his typical setup. Harry’s home was very plain. He didn’t have many things to clutter the space. Only a few pictures of his family from London and one or two knick-knacks that had been given to him over the years. His wooden floors had a large carpet covering the center and the furniture he used had been there when he moved in.

Y/n arrived first. Harry had a feeling she would. She was shy and smiley and polite off the bat. Harry ushered her in and gently put his hand on her low back, just the slightest touch. He didn’t want to seem like a creep. But with the way she blushed, he knew she liked it. She accepted a glass of wine and sat in one of the chairs Harry had put in the circle.

“Is there anything you’d like to speak with me about one-on-one before the other two arrive, Y/n?” Harry tilted his head and looked at the young woman with his own glass of wine in hand as he sat next to her.

“Oh, well, I think I would like to talk about something. Um…” but before she could continue there was a knock at the door to indicate the others had arrived. Harry gave her a disappointed look, “Stay after the meeting with me and we can talk about it then,” he spoke as he got up to open the door for the new arrivals.

Everyone had their fill of coffee and wine during the hour-long prayer meeting. Half of the time was taken up by Arthur speaking about his concern for the state of the world. Usually, the prayer meetings would include discussion and then prayer based on what was discussed, this time was the same. Y/n barely spoke but Harry could sense her eyes on him for most of the meeting. They sat next to one another in the small little circle and when they ended with prayer Harry took her hand in his and like the time before when he’d held her hand in prayer, he loosened and tightened his grip around her hand slowly, like a comforting squeeze. But when Y/n suddenly squeezed his hand back Harry smiled to himself as he continued speaking his prayer. Her squeeze was not subtle, and neither was the way she used her thumb to gently drag it along the inside of his palm.

When the couple left, finally, Harry and Y/n sat back in their respective spots next to one another and Harry prompted her to continue where she left off earlier.

Y/n’s cheeks were wine flushed, but she was not drunk, just cozy and warm. She licked her lips and sat up straight as if she was called on in school to answer the question in front of the class. She wiggled her bottom in her seat and cleared her throat, “I have been thinking of going to confession but I haven’t made it yet because it’s so hard to admit sometimes when I’m in sin. I’m here with my aunt and uncle because of things I did back home. Things I was interested in and it’s awful and embarrassing but I’m hoping here I can become new again and move on from my old ways.”

Harry rolled his lips into his mouth and squinted at Y/n as she spoke. He didn’t know of her past, “Tell me, dear. What have you done? You can skip going to the confessional if you do it here with me. It’s the same really. I’d be the one listening to your sins anyway. I won’t judge you. That’s not for me to do.

He was very curious as to what she’d done that led her to move in with her aunt and uncle temporarily and get away from her hometown. She was an adult who could have made her own choices and gone to any town, but she chose to come here to get away from whatever it was she’d done.

Y/n laughed and looked at her lap where her hands were clasped together before she lifted her head to put her gaze on the priest, “Sexual sin. I’ve had sex and I know I should wait for marriage, but it’s so hard because it feels so good. It feels like God wants us to have sex often, he made us to enjoy it, right? And that’s my problem. I just like it and I don’t feel as guilty about it as I should,” she looked back down and bit her lip. Her cheeks were especially pink now. From embarrassment or shame.

Harry was very interested. The girl was into sex and admittedly so. But who wasn’t really? Most of his congregation came to him for sins of lust when it came time to confess. There were hardly any virgins amongst his members, not even the ones who were single and publicly claimed to be.

“Your feelings are normal, dear. Sex is a very important part of how we express love and pleasure and it’s hard to deny ourselves of the flesh at times. We are all guilty of the sin of lust. Most humans are not free of that burden,” Harry kept his eyes on the girl and watched as she shook her head. She turned to look up at Harry again.

“Well, yes, Father. That’s true. But my problem is deeper I think. It’s not just the sin of lust and premarital sex, it’s sexual deviancy,” she whispered the word deviancy like it was a bad word, “I like things most people do not and it’s frowned upon, especially as a Christian. It’s part of why I moved here. I was found out,” she wrung her hands together in her lap and closed her eyes and sighed before she opened them back up to continue, “I was caught with a married man. He’d left me tied to his bed thinking his wife was going to be gone for the day. But she returned while I was there on her bed and now I’m here. Trying to be better.”

Harry was silent. He didn’t know how to respond to this beautiful young woman admitting to him the things she just had. And so openly. He wanted to ask her more about what she liked but felt that would be too much too soon. Inappropriate in fact. But he was bursting to know.

“I see. Look, we all have things that are hidden and dark. We do our best to deal with them in the kindest way we can in this life. The best thing you can do is to be kind to yourself. Don’t doubt you’re a wonderful person just because you have a preference for certain things,” Harry put his hand on her shoulder to emphasize his words. And he meant them. He always felt humans were too hard on themselves when it came to sins of lust and sex. He obviously had a soft spot for those who had lustful sin.

He watched Y/n as she leaned her head to the side toward where Harry’s hand was placed on her shoulder. She closed her eyes and stretched her neck toward his hand but then opened her eyes and looked at the priest, “Thank you, Father. That makes me feel so much better. It’s worse really, than just what I said but I’m too embarrassed to tell you more. I’m sure you’d cast me out like the devil if you knew,” she laughed and smiled at the man. His clear, bright eyes were on hers intently and they were beautiful. His smile revealed dimples on his cheeks and the bit of scruff on his face was so attractive that Y/n forced herself to not imagine what it would feel like being scraped against her face, or in between her thighs.

Harry noted how her gaze lingered on his. The way she looked at his mouth and how she looked desperate a little. The poor thing was probably trying to be good but deep down she just wanted to be bad. But to Harry, she was beginning to fill in all the little boxes he needed to have checked in order to find the right one. He couldn’t know for sure just yet, but he’d continue to find out more about her and make a determination soon. He just needed more time. He wanted to do this right.

Before she left they had agreed upon a schedule for Harry to counsel her and pray with her for her sins. They’d meet together every other day in his parsonage for as long as she needed. Which was just perfect for Harry. He’d get to look at the cute thing as she confessed her dark deeds to him and he’d lead her in prayer and with guidance. And Harry knew she found him attractive. Most people did really, but with Y/n, it excited him in a way he hadn’t been excited about in a long time.

At their first one-on-one meeting, Y/n had withdrawn a bit into herself. She seemed down and gave the priest very little information like she had the first night after their prayer meeting. He wondered if the wine had been a factor in the way she so honestly expressed herself that night. He’d need to work on that with her. Relying on alcohol as a way to feel more expressive and comfortable was worse to Harry than it was to have sex outside of marriage.

He still gave her gentle advice, prayed with her, and kissed her forehead before she left. He could tell she was struggling. But he could see how she was looking at him when he’d speak, how she kept crossing her legs and would squeeze her thighs tightly together, her flushed cheeks, and that was all he needed to know that she was aching for relief. Perhaps she was so overwhelmed with need and lust that she was pushing herself to close up. Which was probably a normal reaction. Harry had gone through the same when he first fought with himself to stop his sudden need to have sex. He would be patient with her.

In their following meeting, Harry was armed with a bit more information. After she left their one-on-one meeting he decided to search for her on social media. She had a pretty decent presence online. She was popular, had a lot of friends back home, and seemed like a normal young woman as far as he could tell. But then the further he dug he found some people who had mentioned her in their posts. Particularly one woman who seemed to greatly dislike her.

He came to find out that the man that Y/n had been caught with was this woman’s husband. She dragged Y/n and exposed her secrets in detail online. According to the woman, her husband had been seduced, and then he tied her to the bed as he left to go get help which is when the wife arrived home, as the man was out “getting help”. He learned that Y/n was completely naked in their bed where she was tied at the wrists and ankles. She had marks over her thighs, her stomach, and her back, likely from being spanked, but the wife posed that Y/n had done it to herself as a way to make everyone feel sorry for her.

This said a few things to Harry. First, was that he believed Y/n and that when she said she’d been seeing the man it was likely not the first time they’d been together, nor the first time she’d been tied to his bed and spanked. And with the man having gone to “get help” it was more likely part of their play and he was leaving her as punishment. Y/n liked to be punished.

Harry was thankful for social media but he was also angry that her secrets had been exposed in such a heartless way. Of course, the woman thought that her husband was totally innocent, but that’s Christian society for you in a nutshell, putting all the blame on the woman and absolving the man. Harry tried to lead his congregation in a way that allowed for empathy and love no matter what. He would have been pissed at any of his followers if they had ousted a fellow member in this way.

Y/n was quiet at first when she arrived at their second one-on-one meeting. But her face looked brighter this time and she seemed to be more talkative after a little bit of Harry nudging her in the right direction. He wouldn’t tell her about what he knew. He hoped that she’d tell him in her own time, though. And she did. Not at that meeting but the following week she’d poured her soul out to him.

Of course, it didn’t just happen that she handed the priest all of this information out of the blue. The lead-up during their meetings had given her the boost she needed to tell him of all her sins.

There were a lot of longing gazes from Y/n’s end and Harry would give her soft touches and sly grins. Harry would allow himself to work his eyes down over her face and to her neck as she spoke, purposely letting her see how he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He’d rub her shoulders and speak quietly into her ear even though it was just the two of them in the living area of his parsonage. He admitted to her how he would sometimes wake from dreams of feeling lust and the need to repent himself. He brought up his flog even to see her reaction and react she did.

When he described to her how some mornings he’d wake from a sexual dream he’d flog himself to calm his nerves and he watched as her breathing picked up. She watched his lips as he spoke and he’d often catch her drifting her gaze downward towards his lap. He knew she wanted more from him but she’d never attempt it with the holy priest. Which was precisely what he hoped. He needed her to first see him as a leader and a holy man. He’d soon reveal his other persona when the time was right. If it was ever right.

So, on the day that she finally broke down and told him all of her sins it was like a weight was lifted from her. She paused between breaths and composed herself as she spoke but she got everything out and Harry couldn’t have been more enamored. She was perfect.

“I was accused of seducing that man, Tom, and then his excuse for tying me there was to stop me from tempting him while he went to get help. Which is ridiculous because look at me, I’m no match for any grown man. He didn’t need help,” she sighed and laughed in a scoff, “You see, he’d left me there so he could go run an errand. We had a thing where he’d tie me up and leave me after punishment, like spanking me and smacking me, and well, anyway… I like that sort of thing. I like being punished and worse really. It’s embarrassing when I’m speaking to you like this but I feel good to be able to say it out loud.”

She continued and Harry watched her as he took his forefinger and lightly rubbed it over his lips, up and down. He purposely gazed at her and allowed his features to soften over her face and she noticed the way he was looking at her. She would pause frequently when she took note of the look of hunger on his face but would shake her head as if to tell herself to snap out of it.

“He told everyone that I’d beat myself. My bottom, my back, thighs, everything. But he did it. No one believed me. It’s crazy that he tied me to his bed while I was naked with large handprints all over my body and a tie over my eyes so I couldn’t see and yet, people thought he not only didn’t put his hands on me but that he tied me to the bed with my legs spread apart with his sperm literally dripping from me in order to go get help,” her laugh was unamused. “They all believed him. They thought I beat myself and stripped nude and masturbated in his bed and that he had to tie me down with my legs open and put something on my eyes as a way to restrain me.”

But she didn’t stop her confession, “And I’ve done that before with others too. I like it. Being captive, being punished. I don’t know why I like it; I just do. Makes me feel so vulnerable and needed. Like I’m so wanted that they keep me tied down so I can’t leave. I know I shouldn’t like that or want something like that. It’s awful. It probably sounds like I’m completely deranged. I guess I am a little. But I do feel better after talking with you this past week. You’ve helped me a lot Father, and I’m glad I met you.”

Harry was willing away his erection. He’d abstained from having sex since he’d started these little sessions with Y/n. Not from masturbating, but from sex with others. And he was feeling excited at her full confession. She could be just what he needed. He could be just what she needed.

“Thank you for being so honest and open with me, Y/n. This is a step in the right direction. What we say to one another here will remain between just us. Won’t it?” Harry lifted his brows as he moved her hair from off her shoulder to behind her ear. She stiffened at his touch and her mouth parted for a moment before she nodded at the priest.

“Good. We are all sinners, dear. There’s not one of us better than the other,” Harry kept his voice low as he spoke.

Y/n smiled and spoke, “Well, except you, Father. You’re a holy man and better than anyone I’ve ever met. I can just feel it all around. You exude love and compassion. You listen so closely to everyone and you remember everything about them. You’re such a good soul with a wonderful heart. I can only hope to be like you one day.”

Harry nodded with a grin, “You are like me already, Y/n. You don’t know everything about me. I’m a human man. I am still a sinner and that’s what makes me so compassionate toward others. Because we are all in this world struggling to do what is right. Some of us have a worse time with sin than others. Sometimes you might be surprised at what kinds of sin a priest might have hidden.” Harry watched her face closely. Her gaze on him still indicated longing and need. She was very attracted to him, and Harry knew it. He could have probably taken her then to his bedroom and done very awful and wonderful things to her and made her his at last. But he refrained. He had to follow his plan accordingly. She was so close to being a perfect fit for him. He just needed to be sure she was the one.

The day of the following meeting was chilly and windy and cold. A winter storm seemed to be coming in and Harry had considered telling Y/n to stay home but before he had the chance to call the Sotheby’s she was already at his door, bundled up in her winter coat with a scarf around her neck and a wool cap on her head. Her nose was red and she wasn’t wearing gloves. Harry pulled her in and the wind from outside wafted into his warm parsonage. Harry hadn’t prepared for her quite yet, as it was about an hour before she was due to arrive. He had a few things strewn about, nothing crazy but he always liked to tidy before he had guests.

He closed the door behind her and stood in front of her to begin unwrapping her scarf from her neck in silence. She looked up at him with her big, sweet eyes and Harry looked down at her while he pulled the scarf off, a grin on his face. She just stood and smiled back up at him as he undid her coat, and pulled it off her shoulders, hanging it by the door on the coat hook. She stayed quiet watching him. He found it a little odd but he didn’t mind the new interaction. It’s how he’d want to treat her if she were his. He’d help her undress and take care of her. She liked it too he could tell.

Harry looked down to see she hadn’t worn gloves so he took her hands into his and rubbed over them before putting his mouth to his hands cupped around hers and blew warm air over her fingers. She sighed and smiled up at him. That smile was going to kill him. He repeated blowing warm air over her hands a few times until his lips met her fingertips and he pressed the tiniest kiss to the pads of the fingers under his mouth then he laughed a breath through his nose and plucked the wool cap from her head, “There you go. Feel better? Want me to make you some tea?”

Harry saw it written all over her face. She didn’t want tea, or anything to drink. She didn’t want him to be nice to her. She wanted something she was too scared to ask for but she smiled and nodded because of her naturally submissive manner, “Yeah. Hot tea could be nice, Father.”

Harry smirked down at the lovely girl and smoothed her hair a bit. It had gotten staticky from the way he’d pulled the cap from her head. She laughed shyly when she realized what he was doing and then she followed him to his kitchen.

When they passed into the kitchen Harry realized he hadn’t closed the door to his bedroom since he hadn’t been prepared for her yet. There wasn’t anything too revealing lying out, except his flog at the end of the bed, but he wasn’t sure if she’d seen it or not.

He made tea and they sat in the little kitchen together and made small talk.

“You arrived early. I hadn’t expected you to come yet,” Harry said as he looked down at his mug and then back up at the beautiful young woman.

Y/n nodded, “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to miss the chance of coming by for a bit. The weather channel made it seem like the storm would be very bad and I wondered if I waited too long I might not have been able to come here at all. Sorry.”

Harry reached a hand out to place over Y/n’s and tsk’d at her, “Don’t be sorry, dear. I’m happy you came. I was going to call you and cancel because it does look like a bad one coming. It’s already started to snow,” he looked over her shoulder and out the window where white snow was blowing wild in the air with the wind.

One tea turned into two and then Y/n asked Harry if they could pray together, “I’m feeling very particular today. It’s a hard day for me. I’ve been trying to keep my thoughts on God and do what I know is right but I can’t seem to get it straight in my mind. My sinful thoughts are very strong today.”

“That’s good that you told me. We all have hard days. It’s better to be honest about everything than it is to hide it. Hiding it only makes the longing worse,” Harry wanted to stop the façade himself. His longing was getting worse as well. And now that she was here with him alone, the ominous storm approaching, and his neglected cock that he hadn’t had a chance to take care of before she arrived (another thing he hadn’t gotten to due to her early arrival, something he always took care of before she came), he wanted to take care of both of their needs, their longings.

“Is it a hard day for you, Father? I saw the flog on your bed when we passed your room. You told me before how you use it to atone for your sinful thoughts,” she bit her lip after asking and looked at him with round eyes.

Harry nodded with a smile, “You saw that then. Yes. Today is a hard day. And every day before this one as well,” was all he gave her.

Harry took her hands in his and they prayed, bowing their heads over the small table. And like every other time they held hands in prayer, they gently touched and squeezed at the other, a silent bid for something more that had gone unspoken. But it was never quite enough for Y/n to believe it meant more than just a man being kind and loving.

When they released their hands Y/n felt lighter again. She loved it when Harry prayed. It was like he helped wipe her sins away with his words and encouragement. But she wondered if there was more that could be done.

“Father Harry?” She asked with his eyes already on hers. He nodded at her to continue, “Yes?”

She swallowed and looked out of the kitchen toward where his bedroom was, “What is it like to be whipped with the flog? Do you feel atoned when you’re done? Does it feel like the pain takes away your sins?”

Harry’s heartbeat was rapid. There was a definite shift in the way Y/n was today than she had been at any of the other meetings. It was very subtle but she was different today. Needy.

Harry clenched his jaw and looked over his shoulder toward his room and then back to Y/n, “Sometimes it does feel like it helps me repent. But other times it's part of the sin.”

Y/n was silent as she took his words in. She cocked her head to the side and squished her brows together in confusion, “Part of the sin? What does that mean?”

Harry took a deep breath and reached a hand out to take one of Y/n’s in his. He looked down at her hand with a faint smile on his face before looking back into her pretty eyes, “It means sometimes it has nothing to do with atonement or being repentant. Sometimes I enjoy the pain.”

Y/n watched as Harry grazed his thumb over her knuckles and spoke without looking back into Harry’s eyes, “Would you… maybe flog me? Show me what it feels like? Maybe it can help me feel better about my sinful nature.”

Harry looked out the window and he couldn’t see beyond the white flurries. The wind was harsh and he could hear the whistle of the gale as it forced its way into the cracks of the glass panes. He put his eyes back on Y/n and she was still looking down at where her hand was in his.

“That would require you to remove some clothes. I don’t know that you’d feel comfortable with that in front of me,” Harry was getting heated. He was imagining the way the whip would bite into her skin. Not too hard, but just enough that she could really feel it and it would leave a mark. Or two. Or three.

Y/n shot her eyes up to Harry’s and nodded, “I would be okay with that. Would you? 

Harry smiled, wider than he intended. This was exactly what he wanted. This was a step toward what he’d felt was necessary for his plan. She was asking him.

Her pupils were blown out in her eyes already, and her mouth parted. She wanted to be flogged but not to atone for her sins. She liked it and he knew she would. She also understood the probable implications of her request after she’d already admitted to him how much she enjoyed a bit of pain, spankings, and punishment. But she couldn’t help herself. And she could play it off as if she only meant to use it as a way to repent if he declined or called her out.

But Harry wouldn’t call her out. He would go along with her in this as long as she wanted. They could both easily play it off, yet they both would understand what was actually going on. It would be a way to ease into what was coming. Harry was quite pleased.

“Okay, my dear. If that is what you want. We’ll go to my room. I have a set up for you to hold onto while I flog your back for repentance.”

Y/n hadn’t expected Harry’s room to be livelier than the rest of the house. His bedroom revealed more of his personality than the rest of the parsonage did. The set-up Harry referred to was a bar hung from the ceiling with cuffs at each end. There was art hung on the walls, a bookshelf stuffed with books, a dresser with jars atop, and a lamp. His bed was large and looked comfortable. And of course, in the corner of the room was a large item covered with a sheet that went nearly to the ceiling and was probably eight feet wide and eight feet long.

“What is that, Father?” Y/n pointed toward the covered item in the corner and walked toward it.

Harry stopped her midway, “That’s just something I use for a hobby of mine. Let’s get to it shall we?” He redirected her away from the cage that had gone unused for longer than Harry liked.

Harry took the flog in his hand and turned to Y/n, “You’ll need to take your sweater and anything underneath off for this. You can face away from me so I don’t see anything if you’re more comfortable with that. And you can decide if you want your hands in the cuffs to restrain you, or if you’d just like to hold onto them. While you remove your sweater, I’m going to clean this,” and he left the room to sanitize the flog. He had used it on himself only that morning and even though he didn’t cut himself deep enough to bleed, he still found it necessary to clean before using it on Y/n.

Harry took his time to get into the smooth leather and wipe all around the parts with warm soapy water. Then he used alcohol wipes over the flog to finish it off. And before he entered the room he took a moment to breathe and calm himself. He was half hard in his pants with the images that ran through his brain. When he felt somewhat settled he returned to the room to see Y/n with her hand over her breasts facing him.

Harry couldn’t help himself from trailing his eyes down her frame and over her skin and to the swell of her soft breasts which she’d hidden only partly from his view. When he looked back at her face he realized she looked happy and excited even. He swallowed heavily as he walked toward her.

“Wrists in the cuffs or just holding onto them?” He asked her as he put the flog down on his bed.

“I’d like them inside the cuffs. Please,” she smiled and Harry nodded. He had a feeling she’d want to be properly restrained.

Harry closed his eyes at the, please. He was going to have to restrain himself from ravishing her. Because he knew she wanted that. He knew she’d beg him and want whatever he gave her. He swallowed again before walking toward her where she stood near the bar.

“I won’t look, but I have to assist you in putting your wrists in here. Lift up.”

Y/n removed her palms from over her breasts and raised them toward the bar. Harry concentrated on not looking down as he secured her wrists in place. Self-control was something he was not rivaled in. As much as he desired to look down over her skin and peek at her nipples and soft breasts his will to control himself was stronger. He had a presence to maintain.

“Father, why do you have this in your bedroom if you are unable to use it without assistance?” Y/n’s voice was small and cautious. She didn’t want to overstep any boundaries but she was too curious to not ask. Harry knew she would.

Harry smirked and looked at her in the eyes, doing well to not drop his gaze to her tits, “For just this very purpose, Y/n. Sometimes others request a flogging too. I help them.”

Both of Y/n’s wrists were secured in the cuffs after Harry’s careful adjustments of the Velcro. She was bare on the top, wearing only jeans on her bottom half. Harry slowly walked behind Y/n and picked up the flog from his bed. The flog he used was black and thin with a single leather strip, knotted at the end. The handle was braided leather, perfect for gripping onto.

Her back was smooth and clear. So pretty, it was almost a shame that she wanted it marked up. Almost. Harry gulped down his saliva and before he could begin he stepped in close to Y/n and stood behind her, craning his neck down to speak near to her ear.

“This will hurt a bit. I won’t break the skin but it’s going to bruise and feel very tender. Tell me to stop if it’s too much for you,” he could smell her shampoo from this proximity. She turned her head to the side towards his face and nodded. He could tell her breathing had deepened. He gently swept her hair from her back and pushed it over her shoulder to the front so that her back was unobstructed. He kept close to her, looking down at her neck as he did so, his fingers ghosting over her neck.

Harry stepped back and looked up at the ceiling, “Speak with me a prayer of forgiveness, Y/n,” he closed his eyes and waited a moment before beginning, “Lord God, please look at my sins and mistakes with a merciful eye and forgive me.”

Y/n repeated the words and Harry landed the flog onto her back for the first time, a strike that caused her to inhale a sharp gasp and squeeze her eyes closed. It shocked her system and her body jolted forward. She gasped for air as soon as the sensation dulled on her flesh and turned into a hot sting across her back.

Harry continued, “I confess to you Almighty God that I have sinned.”

Y/n spoke the words and braced herself for the next stripe to her back. It came from the opposite shoulder this time, and downward toward her spine. She grunted and fell forward, her nails digging into her palms, as she endured her second hit.

“My mortal sin is that of lust. My flesh has been weak and I have given in to temptation.”

Her words were spoken in a softer voice, but still clear and with determination. Harry smiled as he issued her another strike. Once again, Y/n was swung forward, her head dropping downward and she gasped in a small yelp, clenching her jaw when the new lash crossed the middle of her back.

Harry watched as her smooth skin turned red, a raised welt left in the path of the leather. As promised, he did not break the skin, but it was tender and it was going to be sore.

“For this sin and all sins that I have committed in my life, I am seeking repentance.”

Y/n’s voice came out shaky. Harry watched as her arms quivered as she tried holding herself up. It had only been three strikes and she was already quite fatigued; he could tell. Harry repeated raising the flog and bringing it down in a quick motion over the center of her back near her spine.

This time Y/n crossed her legs together and gasped in a breathy pitch as she put most of her weight on her arms and wobbled forward slightly. Harry couldn’t see her breasts but he knew the sight would have been glorious.

Harry wondered if it was too much. He watched her body for a moment as she regained her composure, “Y/n, are you okay? Do you want to stop?”

She was quick to shake her head, “No, Father. Let’s finish the prayer. Please. I need it.”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath. There it was again, the, please. He enjoyed this. He imagined how it felt on her skin, he knew the sting and burn well. He could almost taste it in his mouth, the pain of the lashings. And it was a good taste. He bit down and clenched his jaw in satisfaction with the moment.

“Count these stripes as my penance, oh Lord God, you who are all good and deserving of my love and devotion.”

It took a moment for Y/n to repeat the words but when she did Harry realized it then. It was in her breathy voice, the way her back was arched and ready for the next hit, and how she crossed her legs with the last lashing, still squeezed together, thighs clenched.

With a smile, Harry brought the leather down onto her flesh again and to his delight, the sound that left Y/n’s mouth was a moan. A sound typically dedicated to the result of something pleasurable happening.

“I resolve with the help of your grace to keep my eyes on you, Holy Father. Amen.”

Harry listened to the way Y/n spoke her words in a slow breathy voice. Her neck was draped downward and her arm muscles were straining against her weight. She was enjoying this. Perhaps in the same way Harry did.

The sixth and final lash on her back drew a louder moan out of her mouth. After she shifted forward she lulled her head to the side and Harry could see her mouth was open. Her breaths were labored, heavy.

Harry put the flog down and stood behind Y/n, gently placing his hands on the back of her ribs, “Y/n, no more lashings. Now listen to my words of forgiveness and then you’ll say for his mercy endures forever.”

She nodded and hummed and pushed herself up to stand fully on her feet. Harry kept his hands lightly on her back and looked down at her neck, as he spoke his absolution in a voice barely above a whisper, “Give thanks to the Lord for he is good.”

“For his mercy endures forever,” her voice was surer now, still breathy but less shaky.

Harry was tempted to dip his mouth down onto the curve of her neck and press his lips on the small freckle that he saw under her jaw. She still had her neck bared to him, her head hung to the side and Harry wondered if she was doing it on purpose, exposing her neck to him. Offering herself to him in a way. He would need her to verbalize it if so.

Harry leaned down, his hands ghosting down her sides as he put his face closer to her neck but he didn’t allow his lips to touch her skin, “You did very good, Y/n. I’m going to release you now.”

Harry removed each wrist and stayed in his spot behind her. He remained close and Y/n made no attempt to move from her spot. She turned her head to the side and Harry could see her profile, blinking, a smile on her face. If she turned further she’d be able to see his face but there was the chance that her breasts would be in view.

“Thank you, Father,” Y/n spoke in a soft whisper as she lifted her hands to cover her breasts and turned her head to look at him from over her shoulder.

Harry didn’t move from his spot as he looked over her face slowly. He didn’t let his gaze drop below her shoulders. She wasn’t his to ogle. Not yet anyway. But he could recognize that she was beautiful. And perfect.

“Stay right here. I’m going to get something for your back,” Harry was quick to get what was needed for Y/n’s welts. A warm, damp cloth and some ointment.

When he came back into the room, Y/n was still standing exactly where he left her, “Lie down on the bed on your stomach and I’ll help you with this.”

Harry approached her as she arranged herself on his bed, tummy down. Harry was already anticipating the moment he could rinse her back and then rub the cream over her. He’d touched her gently while she was restrained, but now he would be permitted to put his hand into complete contact with her skin, to really touch her and take care of her wounds.

Y/n put her arms upward, elbows bent, and her face to the side so her cheek was down and she could see Harry behind her from the peripheral. He kneeled on the bed next to her and gently placed the warm rag over her back to soothe the burn, “Are you okay? How do you feel, Y/n?”

Y/n took a deep breath and closed her eyes when Harry began to blot the damp rag down her back, “I feel very good, Father,” her voice was still breathy and soft.

Harry hummed in response with a nod to himself as he continued gently dabbing the rage over her back. When it was time to put the ointment over her he rubbed it into his palms to warm it, as he noticed she had goosebumps over her flesh.

His wide palms slowly caressed her back and smoothed the cream over her sores. He watched as Y/n bit her lip, her eyes still closed. Harry smiled. He used both hands to knead gently down her spine and apply the ointment. It took longer than it should have but Harry enjoyed the way her skin felt under his hands. She was soft and open for him. So willing and sweet.

“You did very well, Y/n. I think this looks good,” he spoke with his palms still flat on her low back, “I’ll leave you to put your sweater on, I can tell you’re cold.”

Harry stood from the bed with the rag and the jar of cream when Y/n pushed herself up and turned her head, “Wait, Father. I need to confess one more thing.”

Harry stopped his motions and turned to see her. Her top half was still hidden, breasts down into the comforter below her. He ticked his chin downward to indicate for her to continue.

“I… really liked that. More than I should. I feel bad because it didn’t mean to me what it was meant to mean. It’s my sin. I can’t control it. I’m sorry, Father,” she looked down at her forearm that was holding her up and Harry could see how red and bitten her lips looked. The delicate thing. She was a lot like him. The flogging was both a penance and a guilty pleasure.

“I understand. I sometimes see it the same way, Y/n. Your pain still acts as penance. Even if you somehow enjoy it. We can talk about this when you’ve dressed. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, though,” Harry turned and left the room. He was nearly quivering at what had just happened. He was keyed up from not only flogging the beautiful young woman but all of her admissions to him about what she liked and what she felt was her sin. The girl couldn’t be more perfect for him.

Harry put on another pot of tea and took note of the storm outside. The snow had piled against the parsonage and the wind bellowed outside. It would be too dangerous for her to walk or be driven back to the Sotheby’s in this weather. A fact that he quietly delighted in.

Y/n stepped into the kitchen behind Harry and leaned against the counter to watch him with the tea setup. The two did not speak for a few moments, both lost in their own minds about the reality they were suddenly in. Y/n having been honest with the priest about her sins and the priest reeling over the similarities of their preferences.

Harry turned to look at the pretty girl standing next to him, “You will likely need to stay until the storm subsides,” he looked past Y/n out the window that was on the opposite wall, “perhaps even all night.”

She turned to look out the window and Harry saw a smile crawl onto her face. His own expression was similar, pleased, expectant.

They took tea in his living room and the only sounds that could be heard were the gale winds outside. Y/n looked at Harry, her eyes wide and curious. When Harry looked up at her after a sip of his hot tea he felt he could understand her without a word being spoken.

“Tell me what your thoughts are, Y/n,” he set the teacup down and leaned back into the couch, his hands in his lap.

Y/n breathed out a small laugh and looked down at her lap. She was on the same couch as Harry but separated by a cushion between them.

With her head down she began to speak, “I feel very happy with you, safe. I don’t feel judged or looked down upon,” she lifted her head to look up at the man, his light green eyes taking her in, listening intently as always.

Harry nodded and stayed silent. He wanted her to continue.

Y/n swallowed and fiddled with her fingers, “Thank you for that, Father,” she leaned forward and took a sip of her tea, before leaning back into the couch and cupping the mug into her hands to keep them warm.

She continued, “I’m sure you cannot relate to having lustful thoughts in your heart like me. But I do wonder, what are your sinful thoughts that you feel are so hard that you flog yourself to repent? You said today was a hard day for you.”

Harry let the side of his mouth quirk up in a smile as he looked down. She was a curious girl.

“I’m a man, Y/n. I have lustful thoughts in my heart as most humans do. God has created us to procreate and he made sex feel very good,” Harry was sure to emphasize the words feel very good, “for a reason. It’s in the worst of people and the holiest of us.”

There was a moment of quiet when the wind changed direction and Harry watched Y/n move on her cushion as she tucked a foot under her bottom and turned toward him, “What was hard for you today, Father? The sin you had to atone for.”

Harry’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and he took a breath, “Lust.”

Harry’s eyes were severe on Y/n’s and he watched her lips part softly and her eyes soften, “Really? I imagine it must be very hard being a priest with your vows and all. Have you ever had a relationship, Father?”

Harry flattened his lips and squinted at the girl. Before he could respond Y/n spoke quickly, “I’m sorry! You don't have to answer. I’m sometimes too curious for my own good and you’re so interesting to me. Don’t answer if it’s too much.”

Harry chuckled and sipped his tea, slowly placing it down on the table next to the couch before putting his eyes back on the pretty girl, “I have had relationships, yes. It isn’t against the priesthood per se. Not anymore. But my own vows of celibacy and dedication to God, it is against them. And yes. It’s very hard being a priest and feeling lust.”

“Celibacy. So… you’ve never…” Y/n closed her mouth and looked down at the floor for a moment. “That makes me feel very ashamed of what I’ve done and how I feel lately. I feel like I have not been honest with you, but now knowing this about you makes me feel even worse for the things I’ve imagined,” she looked down at her lap and shook her head.

Harry reached a hand out to cover hers, “Do not feel ashamed. I would not look at you differently no matter your confession to me because I’m a sinner just the same. And I haven’t followed my vows. I love God and I love being a priest, but I love other things as well. Those things are between me and God. He is my judge and he knows my heart.”

Harry knew Y/n wasn’t dumb. He knew he’d told her enough that she could piece things together on her own. And her expression revealed to him just as much. She nodded with a small smile at his words and looked down at his hand covering her.

Keeping her eyes on Harry’s, Y/n slowly brought her free hand down to Harry’s and then lifted his hand upward. She leaned down to press her lips to his knuckles and slowly kissed each one. Harry’s mouth dropped open as he watched her kiss his hand. Her soft lips on each of his knuckles were innocent but the way she looked up into his eyes as she did so was not.

Harry breathed out heavily at the contact and let her continue. She manipulated his hand so that his palm was facing upward and she kissed the center of his hand and up to his fingers. She placed small pecks to the pads of each finger and kept her eyes on his. The intimate gesture was more than just a kind act of reverence.

With his hand held in both of hers, she kept her lips over his fingers as she spoke to him, “I love your hands, Father,” she closed her eyes and continued kissing along his fingertips. Harry watched her in awe.

She kept her eyes closed and spoke again, “I dreamt of you last night, and it was the best dream,” her voice was a whisper, “it was sinful, dirty, and I didn’t want to wake from it. But I liked it,” she continued kissing his fingers. When her tongue gently swiped over the pad of his thumb Harry inhaled a sharp breath and then lifted his free hand and carded his fingers through her hair gently.

The moment she felt Harry’s hand in her hair she opened her eyes again to look at the priest and very cautiously, slowly kissed the tip of his thumb before parting her lips and sucking just the very tip into her mouth. When she saw that Harry was not opposed to this action, she took more of his thumb into her mouth, their eyes locked. Harry tilted his head and watched her, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his mouth dropped open, nostrils flaring.

Harry had no expectations of her doing anything like this, but he wasn’t too particularly surprised. He knew she had at least a small crush on him, he hoped it was more than just a small crush and he was not disappointed in the way she was responding to him.

“You’re a good girl, Y/n. We cannot help the way God has made us,” Harry’s voice came out a bit cinched and breathy. He was enjoying this display very much.

Y/n kept her eyes on Harry’s as she took his pointer finger into her mouth and did the same as she had with his thumb. Her mouth was warm and soft over Harry’s digits. This was clearly a sexual gesture and Harry would not stop her from continuing. He kept his eyes on hers and watched the lustful show of Y/n lips wrapped around his finger.

When she removed her mouth from his finger she spoke, “Can I… Please, Father, can I,” she got out of her seat, making Harry remove his hand from her hair, and she dropped onto her knees. Putting her hands on the priest’s knees she looked up at him from her kneeling position, “Father, I’ll do whatever you want. I just, please, let me revere you and you can do whatever you please to me. We can go to God together for our penance, to atone. Just let it be with me that you sin. I’ll take it on, a sacrifice to your goodness, Father. I’m not worthy of you, but I’m begging you to pity me, let me take your sins and your punishment. I’ll do it happily if you let me serve you.”

The moment suddenly changed with her vocalization of what she wanted. Harry grasped her chin and shook his head with a soft expression, “I don’t think you realize what you’re asking me, Y/n. I’m being very serious right now. That’s what you want? Do you know what it means to do what you say? I need to know what you think that means.”

Y/n let out the tiniest whimper at the feel of his hands on her jaw holding her face to look at him, “I… I want to give myself completely to you, I need it. Want it. So badly. But only if you are pleased with me. Only if you want me. But only me.”

Harry wasn’t sure she understood what she was asking. Typically when he took someone as his submissive there was an agreement in place already. He would seek out someone who was previously looking for that kind of arrangement. He felt it was in his best interest, and hers, to be upfront with her.

“I do things most priests would be appalled by, Y/n. My sexual appetite is something I keep very private and separate from my job. I have been searching for someone to keep. Someone who wants to be mine. Someone who will submit and comply at all times to me. A person who would be a willing companion for me. Submissive to me. To allow me to dominate,” Harry paused to monitor her expression. She nodded subtly her eyes still on his.

“Yes. It’s exactly what I want, Father. Anything you want is everything I want,” she spoke in a small voice and Harry smiled. Her answer was good. It was just what he was looking for.

Y/n grasped Harry’s forearm that held her jaw and pulled his hand upward to her mouth again. With her eyes on his and her knees still on the floor at his feet, she spoke in a whisper, “Please, Father,” as he sucked his middle finger into her mouth, her tongue flicking over the underside of his finger.

Harry had had enough. He dragged her upward to his lap where she climbed over him, her thighs straddling his. He pulled her into his body and pressed his mouth over hers once and for all. A kiss that had them moaning and desperate. Her lips on his felt soft and wanton. She trembled in his arms and on his lap as he licked over her tongue. He smoothed his hand up under her sweater and onto her back softly and she winced at the feel from the welts. He ghosted his hands over the raised skin and then lowered his mouth to her jaw and then down to her neck on the little freckle he’d seen earlier. He licked the spot and then sucked the tiniest bruise under her jaw and her gasp told him she enjoyed it.

Harry lowered his mouth down her neck and softly bit at the skin, then he stood up, holding onto her thighs, and walked her to his bedroom in haste where he placed her on his large, soft bed.

“Take the sweater off,” Harry commanded and watched her peel the fabric off of her body. She then moved to take her bra off and the moment her breasts were bare before him Harry groaned and crawled onto the bed next to her, pressing her down flat.

Harry latched his mouth to her breasts and slowly licked over the exposed skin, biting in tiny nips as he kissed down to underneath the flesh of her round tits. Y/n sucked in sharp breaths at the pinch of the bites he gave her and rubbed her thighs together when she moved her hand into his hair.

Harry moved his warm mouth down her body slowly, with generous use of his tongue.

Harry pushed himself up and placed his hands on both sides of her body, caging her ribs, “Roll over. Let me kiss your wounds.”

Y/n bit her lip and moved to her stomach and Harry’s soft touch on her back was followed by his wet lips kissing over the pink and raised skin from the flogging. He applied open-mouthed kisses down the length of each red stripe on her back and he noted how she wiggled her bum and rocked her hips. He smirked as he continued kissing over her shoulder blade, his hand gently caressing her sides.

When he’d finished on her back he sat up and held onto the back of her neck, keeping her head down. Her face was turned, cheek smushed into the comforter.

“You’ll be mine to dominate as long as you want to be my submissive pet. But only if you give me your full consent because I need you to enjoy this with me. I’ve been looking for a long time, Y/n,” Harry spoke softly and lowered his mouth to kiss at her shoulder before continuing, his hot breath falling over her skin as he whispered his words, “You’ll submit to me in every way, taking my punishments, and allow me to have you sexually, emotionally, and spiritually. How does that sound?” He continued a path of kisses over her shoulder and back as he waited for her to speak, his hand still at the back of her neck.

Y/n nodded with her lip quivering, “Yes. Please. I only expect to be taken care of, to be loved, and in return, I’ll take care of you in any way you like. It’s all I’ve wanted. To belong to someone. To give myself completely to someone that cherishes me. And I truly want to belong to you, Father. But only me. No one else.”

Harry sat up and pulled Y/n gently upward by her neck to face him. He could see tears in her eyes. She was getting emotional.

Harry let go of her neck and brought a hand up to wipe at the tear that had fallen under her eye with his thumb, “There, there, darling. You’re already so perfect for me. Beautiful and sweet. I don’t want anyone but you. You and I will be very compatible,” Harry kept his hand on her face, softly swiping his thumb over her cheek. Y/n closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. She was perfect.

“I just want to be yours, Father,” she said softly, her eyes still closed.

Harry softly pressed his mouth to the edge of hers and then kissed where her tears had fallen, “Then you shall be mine now.”

Part 2*

I know this one doesn’t have smut - but prepare yourself for part 2 - it’s dirty and sexy.

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'I'm in love with a Jedi' Support Group - One Shot

Happy May 4th! In honor of this day, have the full one-shot of this post that still makes the rounds here and people seem to find fun! All mistakes are mine, I just finished and it is 1:50 am for me! But I will clean it up and post it to Ao3 later today. Enjoy!

Now on AO3!

Read on if you like Anidala, Codywan, Dinluke, Hanleia, Quinfox, Kesett, Blyala, Kanera, alongside Grogu being cute and getting too many cookies!

Description: Din gets jumped on the way back home and wakes to find he has been welcomed into a 'secret club' made for those who fell for Jedi and now have to deal with Force Osik.

A Star Wars May 4th One-Shot

Din was no idiot. He had clocked the people following him since he had been halfway through his market run. But they were good at hiding themselves. He knew at least four people were keeping a close eye on him. But every time he had tried to look more closely, they had hidden themselves among the crowd. It was a Sunday at 10 am, which meant that the market was especially packed. Part of the reason he had decided to leave Grogu and Luke at home, big crowds left them more tired. It was fun, they definitely enjoyed their time out and about, but by the end of it, both would be tired the rest of the day. Considering they would have visitors later tonight, he and Luke had agreed that it was better that he took care of the shopping so they would all have the energy to host later tonight.

And now he was even more glad he had left them at home. He did not need Luke and Grogu exposed to someone looking for a fight. Din was 70% sure these people were looking for the Darksaber. Most of the time, challengers came alone, but more than once some random Mandalorian would come with their clan to try to intimidate him as he was challenged. It could also have been just someone who wanted Din's armor, but that they were good at evading him made him consider this was no mere group of criminals looking to jump him.

Still, Din kept on and finished his purchases. No need for them to know he knew they were there. He hoped as soon as he got done with the Challenge for the tittle of Mand'alor (which he still did not want, at all), he would be free to grab his stuff and get home in time to give Grogu his cookies before naptime. The kid would not be happy if he didn't give him the cookies before. Otherwise, after naptime it would be too close to lunch time for a snack. Grogu loved those blue cookies. He would rather avoid having his child give him a cold shoulder, Din would prefer going against another Krayt Dragon.

Saying goodbye to a regular vendor that delighted in spoiling Grogu with his favorite cookies, Din made his way seemingly towards home. He tried to shake his tail, he would fight if necessary, but he would rather just go home and deal with this idiots on another day. But, they were good and he couldn't shake them. Din had to admit that getting to let off some steam from his nerves about tonight's dinner would not be a bad thing. He took a couple of more turns, and quickly dived into a hidden alley. As he settled in the shadow of the entrance, expecting to jump whoever came lookign for him, he did not expect the blow to the back of his head.

It was never good to be knocked out, but at least they had placed him in a comfortable chair. He made sure not to move or change his deep breathing. His helmet was still on, and he could feel the Darksaber still on his hip. He could not see yet all that clearly, but the tranquilizer was fast working and already leaving his system. He could still not hear, but his vision was now good enough that he could see he was in front of a window. What was he doing in the only building in their town that was so high up to see over the whole market? As he pondered this, trying to remember what the building was (a Hotel he was sure), his hearing finally returned enough to hear the heavy steps coming towards him from the left. He tensed as he heard a familiar voice, which immediately overrode his instinct to pretend to still be knocked out beacause he knew that voice.

"You can stop pretending, I know you are awake." Commander Fox had now sat down next to him on a couch, in what as he gazed around, he could clearly tell was indeed a Hotel room. Fox was holding a beer on one hand and another he offered to Din, who on auto took it. As Fox opened his, the door opened and more surprised entered.

Leading the group, was Luke's mother, Padme Skywalker, holding some bags clearly also from the market. Han Solo came next, also carrying more bags. Both headed straight for the little kitchen to the left of the front door. After Han, Hera Syndulla and Commander Bly enter next, deep in conversation. They sit at the bar that separetes the kitchen from the sitting area as Padme directs Han to put away the food they had brought. The last to enter are Commander Cody and Boba Fett, both sporting matching scowls directed towards Din.

Din might still be under the influence of the drug, he can only stare open-mouthed while holding a beer on one hand as everyone else (who were suppossed to arrive for dinner in the evening) moves around like Din hadn't been knocked out and brought here.

As he opens his mouth, willing to ask what was going, Cody and Boba approach them and now he can see their piercing gazes are not for Din, but rather, for Fox.

"Fox, drugging him was not the plan!" Despite having only known the man for a few years, and already as an adult, Din still felt like a misbehaving ad whenever Cody used his "Commander Voice" (as Luke called it) around him.

"This is a secret meeting, we have done the same for every single one of the members. Besides, needed to test how well he could avoid us."

"He is a trained Mandalorian and the current Mand'alor! You already know how good he is!"

"What if it had been an imposter posing as him? Couldn't risk it."

"Fox, are you listening to yourself!"

As Cody continued to fight with his brother, Boba grabbed Din and gotten him to his feet, taking the beer off his hand and directing him to the bar. Hera had now moved to help in the kitchen with Han as Padme directed them in chopping various things. Bly had moved as Boba and Din approached to also join in the scolding of Fox, all three now almost screaming at each other.

"Did I hear that right? Din, are you okay honey? C'mon, grab a seat, and have some water." Padme motioned to the stools and Boba directed a still dumbstruck Din to seat. He also gave him a water bottle and padded his arm. Din finally managed to stop pretending to be a fish and removed his helmet. He tried to get his hair in some order before drinking the whole bottle. He turned to Boba finally asked what was going on.

"Welcome to the club, cousin. The plan wasn't to knock you out, that was all Fox. He insists on doing that to 'preserve our secrets' or some osik like that."

"Club?"

"It's more of a support group."

"Support for what?"

"The Force."

"What?"

"Boba, you are confusing him more!" That was Cody, who had left Bly to deal with Fox.

"Then you come and explain it then!"

"Boys, boys, keep it calm please! Here Din, I think you will need this." Hera had opened up some wine and had given him the first glass. As she continued to pass them about, Han and Padme, who were still chopping and now putting stuff to cook at the stove, took pity on the confused face Din was sporting to explain more.

"Back in the Clone Wars, I stumbled upon Cody, Fox and Bly lamenting on the fact that they were in secret relationships with Force Users and it was too much sometimes when none understood anything about the Force. Considering that my own marriage back then had been a secret, I offered to host some get togethers to just unwind and tell each other our woes when it came to the things we encountered with our significant others." Padme finally deemed everything ready let it cook on its own and grabbed the final wine glass Hera passed to her. Cody, Boba, Bly and Fox had come around now to listen to her explanation.

"And as more of us got together with our partners, we were 'kidnapped' and brought into the club, so don't take it personally." Han was hard at work as he added some herbs to the boiling pot at the stove, under Padme's watchful eye. Din was surprised to see how confident Han was in the kitchen and with his mother-in-law. Din had seen him be on edge when in the same room as Anakin Skywalker, so this was a true change of character. But Din understood, Padme had that way of being that made you be calm in her presence. Din knew that Luke share that trait with her, always so quick to make both Grogu and Din be at ease in his presence. Oh no.

"Luke and Grogu!" How could he be so stupid as to forget? As he stood up, Cody got next to him and forced him to settle him down back in the chair.

"Easy there, don't worry. Luke knows that you are safe, and we made sure that those groceries you were carrying got home to them. It's been taken care of." Din could breath easier at that, finally taking a small sip of the wine as he let the adrenaline go. Hera offered to refill it and he accepted, as Fox crossed his arms and shot his brother a scowl from the other end of the bar.

"You better not have given our position or meeting away, Cody!"

"Not very secretive to be in the only Hotel in town, Fox."

"Fox still thinks we should keep these meetings as secret as possible, as if by now, over 20 years after the fact, the whole Galaxy was not aware of our relationships." Bly offered, sitting next to Din and blocking a fuming Fox.

"Those security measures kept us safe, Bly! What do you think would have happened had Palpatine figured it out?"

"Death most certainly but he has been dead for decades Fox! If we want to hang out, we can do so like normal people!" Bly had turned now to address Fox and they continued squabbling.

"Now, its more about keeping it secret from our partners, or rather, Fox's." Hera offered, as she helped Padme with some sandwhiches and passed those around too.

"IF VOS FINDS OUT HE WILL CRASH OUR MEETINGS!" This seemed to be a common phrase from Fox, as Din saw Bly, who had turned his back to Fox to face Din, mimic his sentence in an exaggerated manner for everyone's amusement. Fox still noticed though and tackled Bly to the ground, but no one batted an eye to this or stopped them either.

Din remembered then that everyone here was supposed to be at his and Luke's home later in teh evening and couldn't fathom how they were keeping it all a secret. He was sure that Luke would have asked after his whereabouts, regardless of Cody being the one to explain Din was safe.

"What exactly does Luke think I am doing?"

"Told him I needed your Bounty Hunter expertise for something. Obi Wan knew I had some last minute business and that I would arrive earlier to get your input, he should still be on his way with Anakin and Leia, we still have that congratulary dinner to get to at your place tonight after all."

"And everyone else?" He turned to Han and Hera. Han answered first, finally getting away from the stove. He took the sandwich Padme offered and leaned against the fridge.

"I was already with Padme on some business, so I offered to bring her with me. As far as Leia knows, we are still on our way." He dove into the food as Hera explained next.

"Kanan thinks I'm wrapping up some business too, he was dropping off Jacen and we will meet at your place."

"I'm on my way from Tatooine and Cal should still be on route from Coruscant." Boba had already finsihed his own sandwich as Din was barely on his first bite. His cousin was grabbing onto Bly's plate when Padme wacked him with a spatula. She motioned for him to make his second sandwich himself as she turned to the two still on the floor.

"Fox, Bly! Stop playing and come get your sandwich or I'm giving them to Boba!"

That got them both off the floor quick. Padme smiled and nodded as she saw them take their plates, finally diving into their own. Din was still confused on one thing though, which he couldn't help but voice.

"Why bring me in now? Because we invited you today?"

"Oh no, we were just waiting for you and Luke to finally admit it to each other." Hera explained.

"We … didn't want to push you into something you might not actually want." Bly offered sheepishly.

"Even if it was very painfully obvious. OW!" Han had smacked in the stomach by Padme, who just smiled serenely towards Din as if nothing had happened.

"Even if you hadn't actually gotten with Luke we had a backup plan, you still have a child who is force sensitive, I know what that feels like, and so does Hera." Both mothers looked at each other and then to Din, who felt better about all of this.

"It always better when you know you have people in your corner who understand the realities of having Force users around." Cody's tone was full of wisdom, gaze momentarily lost in the past and in his own insecurities when he first started seeing Obi Wan.

"Yeah, the realities that they will pull the craziest osik and blame it all on the Force." Boba chirped in, and Cody had to agree. Both had more than once compared notes and guessed that like with orange tookas, red-headed Jedi were some of the most unexpected types of Jedi in terms of what they would try to pull and then blame it all on 'the will of the Force'.

"Seriously, Din, we aren't just saying it, if you ever need anything, you can come to any of us." Bly had finished his sandwich and proceeded to the kitchen to wash the dishes, patting Din's shoulder as he went.

"Or if you just need to vent, we got a group chat that is only for documenting the wild Force osik of every day life." Han had started it, and he was very proud of the secret shots of the craziest things he had caught Leia doing.

He didn't know what to say, but he felt he would make a fool of himself if he tried to speak pass the lump in his throat and preferred to keep quiet. He had been apprehensive in hosting the big dinner tonight, he knew everyone here, most were his family, and many others', family to Luke. As Hera and Fox got close to add him to the various chats, he considered that this was definitely a good surprise.

As Padme asked after Grogu, Din was encouraged to share as many crazy stories as he wanted, and he felt good once he got going and found all the others sharing in similar stories. Padme and Hera, as the other parents to Force Sensitive Children, gave him tips on how to Force proof the upper cabinets to stop Grogu from getting cookies whenever he wanted. So far, Din and Luke had hidden them, but Grogu was good at catching Luke in the act of getting the snacks and then going back for more. He also learned that Obi Wan was, like Luke, very likely to set things floating if left too long to his mediation. Cody had to force his husband to communicate when he would do longer meditation sessions on harder days, so that Cody could be prepared to time him and have food and water ready for the drop after. He also caught snippets of Fox talking to Boba on their own Jedi's particular brand of abilities, Boba sharing some recent incident that had left Cal very distraught on some memories on old Jedi texts he found on a mission. Fox had his own stories and offered to share some of the tea that helped calm down Quinlan when he had tough visions.

Upon hearing the word tea, Han had to intervene saying that he felt that the last tea Cody had recommended to calm Leia's excessive energy had done the opposite of calming her down. At that, Padme and Bly interjected on how to best burn that energy when meditation didn't really work on their own Jedi. From what Din understood, not all Jedi could calm down by simply mediating, like Luke, Obi Wan and Kanan preferred traditional meditation. Some, like Cal and Quinlan, would need to tire themselves out first before meditating; while Anakin, Leia and Aayla would be the kind who any sort of calm meditation would leave them more cranky than relaxed. Din could understand that, Grogu was more manageable if he was allowed to play first, otherwise he would not accept quiet, sitting meditation. Jacen, Hera mentioned, was much the same, and from what Padme shared, it was common for young Force users to be the same way. As children, neither Leia or Luke had wanted to stay still in meditation, Anakin and Obi Wan had to tire them out first so they could properly have a calm mind. On the other hand, Cody mentioned, Obi Wan had a very hard time with a young Anakin, who had never taken to meditating as a young boy. Obi Wan had instead opted for moving meditation, which left Anakin more calm and collected than forcing him to sit down in the traditional way. Hera felt that maybe she would bring it up to Kanan for their son, and Cody told her that Obi Wan would love nothing else than to talk on his tips on raising the "Choosen One".

Topics changed quickly and everyone was in more than one conversation with some other little group, and Din sat and took it all in. He noticed Padme by the stove and helped her in checking for salt as she was too short for the big pot. She was going to bring it for tonight's dinner and Din was grateful to have her do most of the talking. He loved that soon, Fox had taken out more beer and everyone was relaxed and happy, and Din felt content. He felt better and he didn't even know he had felt in any distress before. It was not how his day was planned but he already knew his life was anything but normal. He hadn't realized he might need someone to ask whenever something that Luke taught Grogu left him confused but also made him feel stupid for not knowing, scared to ask. But those around him understood him, and that left him strangely comforted. He felt happy, and couldn't wait to get home to Luke and Grogu, to share this precious moments with his new family.

-----

On the other side of the town, on the outskirts, Luke felt a small disturbance as he and Grogu meditated. The Force wasn't warning him of any danger, but rather seemed to be … amused. Then, his door was thrown open, and Quinlan Vos barged in with a bunch of bags, most of beverages if the clanking was anything to go by. Behind him, all of his guests for the evening also entered, the loudest being his father and sister. For a moment, Luke panicked in thinking that he had somehow gotten too lost in mediation again and that the time for the dinner was upon them already. But then he saw the sun shining through the window, still high up in the sky signaling it was still before midday.

His father quickly grabbed him into a tight hug and lifted him from the ground, as Leia picked up Grogu. Quinlan was already making a ruckus in the kitchen and thankfully he saw Aayla follow to babysit her old Master. As Luke was losing breath in his lungs, his Uncle Obi Wan finally rescued him, but Anakin still held onto him, using him as a head rest. Neither him or Leia had grown as tall as Anakin and he delighted in reminding them about it.

Freed of his father's embrace, Luke also spotted Cal and Kanan now sat at the living room, cooing at Grogu who had been given some cookies by Leia and had run to be picked up by Cal. Grogu loved visiting Cal and Boba and their pet rankor, which left Din a bundle of nerves but Luke knew it was good for Grogu to have the chance to interact with all manner of creatures. As he was about to try to get away from Anakin for a moment to close the door, his trusty Artoo wheeled in, bickering with Threepio as the golden robot carried some more bags. Almost tripping Threepio was a small, white and red blur that went straight for Grogu. Luke recognized it as Cal's robot BD-1. Then, an orange and louder robotic voice hailed the entrance of Chopper, who also gave commentary on whatever Artoo was fighting Threepio about, for which the golden protocol droid took great offense as Chopper, Artoo and Anakin laughed. Finally, Ahsoka and Rex came in and close the door, his father's Padawan finally able to pull Luke away from Anakin to give him their own hugs.

"Not that I am not happy to see everyone, but the dinner was later in the evening wasn't it? I didn't mess up the invite?"

"Not at all, my little Sunburst! We just decided to take advantage of the other early get-together to come keep you company!" Anakin grabbed him again from Rex's side, leaving the Commander to roll his eyes and go say hello to Grogu in the living room.

"Get together?" Luke was very confused.

"The "In Love with a Jedi Support Group." Cal offered as he bounced Grogu up and down, BD cooing from his shoulder as the toodler happily babbled away at them.

"The-what?"

"Luke, we are going to need more wine glasses! You only have 4!" Quinlan shouted from the kitchen, sticking his head out.

"Uhm, Din went out to the market, he should be back soon with some more-"

"Ehhhh, actually, he was kidnapped so he'll be kinda late." Anakin said, going to try to take Grogu from Cal. The little one instead floated himself to Kanan, leaving a pouting Anakin, who mimed himself crying and dropping to the floor. Luke would have found it hilarious that Grogu was always a little mean towards Anakin for some reason whenever they met but was still worried that his boyfriend was kidnapped and no one around was at all worried.

"Kidnapped!?"

"I have the items he bought Master Luke! Not to worry!" Now looking closely, Grogu could see the bags were the ones Din had taken to the market with him, inside all the items they had been missing for their dinner. Aayla heard him and called out from the kitchen herself.

"Bring them here to the kitchen, Threepio!" Ahsoka helped him with one of the bags, but as they passed by the fake-crying Anakin who was still sobbing loudly for Grogu, she tossed and hit him in the head with a packet of cookies. Anakin immediately changed his tune and was easily the toddler's favorite from then on out. Rex, Cal, Leia and Kanan took turns in giving Grogu a cookie.

"Quin, it's too early for wine. Leave that for the evening dinner." Obi Wan had gone to help out in the kitchen, his voice carrying easily. Luke still felt rooted to the spot by the breakfast nook that was cleared for morning meditation. He walked towards his father, who was now again grumpy that someone else had Grogu's attention, Leia sticking her tongue out at him over Grogu's head.

"Dad, what do you mean Din was kidnapped?"

"It's never too early for wine, I say you open the bottle Quin." Anakin, forever happy to do and say the opposite of his old Master, gave a thumbs up to Quinlan who wasted no time, despite Obi Wan's clear annoyed look. Ahsoka and Aayla simply shared a laugh, both drinking water but accepting glasses of wine nonetheless.

"Dad!"

"He is safe Luke, he is with the others." Anakin offered, not all bother by his son's rising panic.

"What others?" Luke felt like he was going crazy. Finally, Ahsoka took pity on him and came by to direct him to the open spot on the sofa, giving everyone else a glass of wine except Anakin.

"Ok, ok, let me explain kiddo. During the Clone Wars, Cody, Fox and Bly where stumped in their secret relationships to Jedi so they formed a little club." She said. Anakin swipped her glass and took a big gulp, then yelped when a pillow was thrown at his face and the glass taken out of his hands. Grogu found great joy in that and attempted to do the same, encouraged by Cal and Leia.

"My sweet Angel found out and joined in to impart her wisdom." Anakin was so distracted by the mention of his wife, he never saw the 4 pillows coming straight for his head.

"A blessing, I was tired of them venting when we went out in between campaigns." Rex had no need for the Force, he just straight hit Anakin in teh back of the head with his own pillow, then gestured to Ahsoka who was behind Anakin. She directed two more pillows and both hit Anakin when Rex ducked down.

"But you said he got kidnapped?" Luke was still weary, they had yet to be attacked by people looking for the Darksaber here in their peaceful home, but both him and Din knew the leftover Death Watch members were relentless. He wasn't as panicked, if Din was with Cody, Fox and Bly, he could breath easier at least. His uncles were the most capable men he knew.

"Oh, don't worry, that's Fox trying to keep it all 'secret' because I tried to catch him the first few times way back when." Quinlan had finally come around, Aayla with him. She was carrying Anakin's glass with her, which he thank her. "It was a game between us. He still thinks that I don't know and will crash their party if I found out. Jokes on him, when I got wind of it, I just went for Obes and Aayla and we got our own club starte to gossip."

"Once your mother joined them, I got Anakin and we have been recruiting every time they do." Obi Wan sat down beside him, giving Grogu a sippy cup with blue milk and more cookies, which the baby squealed at and then proceeded to use the older man's lap as his seat to enjoy his snacks. Luke could only hope Grogu would take his lunch without much fuzz later on.

"It was nice, if a little weird when I teased Bly and he tried to keep it a secret." Aayla shared, leading to others to chuckle as well. Bly was a terrible liar, and it was funny to picture him trying.

"Yeah, no one but Fox is keeping it 'secret', Boba told me the minute he was on route when Fox tried to get him. Gave me updates all the way until he was sure it was just his brother being weird." Cal was now holding onto BD, who was trying to draw Grogu's attention. Chopper however, was taking all the attention as he showed Grogu some of the coloring pages he stored.

"Paranoid, you mean. But yeah, Fox gets all new members kidnapped to 'test them', or so Hera has said." Kanan was watching his droid closely, making sure he wouldn't take out the flamethrower to boast about it to Artoo, who also had coloring books and crayons for Grogu, each droid very competative if left un supervised.

"So, why not just let them know you all know about it?" Luke could not understand on keeping it a secret. Quinlan quickly shook his hands, laughing a little.

"No no, that's the fun part! Fox pretends that I don't know and gets to relieve some adrenaline from the old Guard mission days."

"Din is fine Luke, Cody assured me he was given the quick neutralizer when he passed me the bags." Obi Wan was as serene as ever, even if Luke's stomach dropped. But he had to admit that his uncle was right. Din would be in no danger, if by his calculations, Fox, Cody, Bly, Boba, Hera, Han and his own mother were with him.

"But, why now?" He had a feeling on the reason it had just happened, considering Din had been someone known to most of them for years.

"Because you finally got off you ass and confessed, little brother." Leia smirked and Luke had to resist the urge to stick his tongue out when he noticed that Grogu was looking at him. He still glared towards his twin.

"Language!" Obi Wan, Kanan and Anakin all shouted.

"I'm older than you!" Luke couldn't resist firing back, though.

"By a minute!"

"As if this little tyke didn't hear worse from Boba." Cal commented to the room at large, leading most to either nod or roll their eyes. Boba Fett had always been very expressive with his language, regardless of who was present, despite his older siblings attempts to get him to stop swearing so much.

"Cal, do not encourage this." Kanan lamented, knowing it was impossible that his son wouldn't have heard such language from Chopper, who just laughed as if he knew what the Jedi was thinking.

"I'm just saying. He doesn't mind, right little frog terrorizer?" Grogu had hopped down from Obi Wan's lap, dodged Anakin's attempts to pick him up and aksed Cal instead, who gladly took him.

"Patu!"

"How about some lunch?"Ahsoka offered, standing up and stretching her back.

"Yes, Quin only brought alcohol." Aayla mentioned, as Quinlan looked offended.

"It was a priority! I know they are drinking too!"

"I was going to go and get some takeout." Luke said, remembering his plan to surprise Din with food when he arrived.

"No need, we'll get it. C'mon Rexy. From that Alderaanian place Luke?" Ahsoka was often at their place and she knew all the best spots by now for takeout.

"Yeah." Luke said, standing up to get the menu from the kitchen.

"Gotcha, you guys look over the menu and let us know. Should only take us 10 minutes to get there." Ahsoka grabbed Grogu from Cal's lap, ignoring the huff from the red head and his attempts to retrieve the toddler, who was happy to be so high up.

"Grogu you're coming with us! Droids! We are rolling out! C'mon!"

"Right behind you Miss Ahsoka!"

"I could go with you-" Luke started to offer, before he was pull back by Obi Wan and Anakin.

"No no, you stay and unwind, talk about your boyfriend with the others and we'll handle the food. As honorary members of both 'secret' clubs, we are here to get you what you need. We'll also pop in after to check on the others, make sure Fox hasn't taken it too hard with the bets." Rex mentioned, following after his partner in crime behind the line of droids now headed for the door. He was glad Anakin had repaired Threepio so he was much faster now and less clunky when walking.

"Honorary members?"

"Ahsoka and Rex hang out in both groups for the entertainment, or so they say." Cal said, arms still crossed as both his droid and his favorite toddler left him.

"We like being informed and getting all the gossip. And taking care of the little ones and droids too. It's too bad Jacen couldn't make it this time." Ahsoka remarked, bouncing Grogu, who wanted to ride on top of Artoo. She let him, but kept close.

"He has been pestering us about going to visit Mace for months now, we had no idea Din would be drafted so soon. My bet was till the end of the year. I'll make sure to bring him next time." Kanan remarked, and then blanched when he realized his slip. He took a big gulp of his wine as Luke turned to him in suspicion.

"Shh, Kanan!" Aayla said, but it was too late.

"What bet?"

"No bet, nothing at all!" Anakin tried to stall, avoiding his son's stare as he tried to gather the secrets of the Force on his wine.

"That reminds me! Luke, I lost so many credits! That rat of Ohnaka got the biggest cut! You really couldn't wait two more weeks?" Quinlan whined, as he got pillows to the face now.

"Or been quicker by like 3 days?" Cal mentioned.

"I think the way they finally got together is very cute!" Aayle had also betted, but she wasn't going to add more fuel to the fire, unlike Anaking who chirped next.

"You didn't have so many credits riding on this, Aayla!"

"Dad! Not you as well!" Luke couldn't believe his family would bet on him and Din. Then he thought about for ten seconds and found out he could, actually, believe it.

"I think it was cute too." Obi Wan said, the picture of poise, until Leia called him out.

"Uncle, you also got a big cut, don't think I didn't find out!"

"Obi Wan!" Luke should have expected it.

"Obes!" Quinlan was not expecting it seemed.

"You liar! You told me you hadn't betted!" Anakin laughed, as Ahsoka and Rex stood by the door, watching as Artoo got farther away with a toddler on top of him.

"Yeah, ooook! Don't forget to look at that menu! Bye!" With that, they closed the door and left the bickering behind them. They were glad that there was forest all around, it sounded like Luke was now going full Padme on Anakin and the others.

"Who do you think Luke will go for first?" Rex wondered, as they caught up with the droids. Threepio had taken to watching over Grogu to make sure he didn't fall.

"Not Luke, Anakin and Quin will definitely get to Obi Wan before Luke even thinks about it."

"Hmm yeah. So, should we get our own lunch and then ask for their order?"

"Oh you bet, afterwards we should see how the others are doing. Cody wanted to make sure they wouldn't miss the dinner." Ahsoka remarked, smiling down at Grogu, who was having so much fun riding Artoo.

"Padme and Hera are there, how crazy could it get with them? Also, you know Din is responsible enough he won't forget." Rex said, but Ahsoka just scoffed.

"You forget that time they got Han to join, Padme was the one who had the idea of going to the zoo and Hera encouraged it." That had been a meeting they had spend with the Non-Sensitives, and it had been a crazy night. They were glad that Padme how covered up, otherwise the papers would have had a field day. Ahsoka had known that Padme and Anakin fit so well precisely because they shared a unique brand of crazy, that their children had ten-fold.

"I forget Anakin's craziness is contagious. Alright, how about it, Grogu? Want to eat something and then get to see your uncle Boba?" Rex had gotten Grogu up and placed him on his shoulders, to the toddler's delight.

"Patu!"

An hour later, everyone's comms went off when the Holo news started reporting of a bunch of Death Watch who had attemped to kidnapped Grogu and had been taken down by two flamethrowing droids, a Jedi Knight, a Clone Commander, a golden protocol droid who fretted about and a tiny BD droid. Ahsoka and Rex had attemped to get Grogu out of the fight, but BD-1 had electrocuted someone and almost been trampled, so Grogu had jumped in, which prompted Artoo and Chopper to start blasting everyone around. Threepio had panicked and sent the massive message right before the news had gone live and that's how everyone got to meet up earlier than expected back at Din and Luke's.

No one mentioned either 'secret' meeting, but they did enjoy their time together very much. Especially when Grogu got fed more blue cookies than he ever had, given that everyone kept slipping them when no one else was looking. Any he didn't eat once full, BD gave to Chopper to store. Artoo didn't do it because he would be the obvious choice and he kept Threepio occupied as he was 'worried for the sugar intake of the infant'. Kanan still caught them but Grogu had already passed out by then, leaving the adults to their own devices. Din and Luke kept shooting each other looks, each thinking how lucky they were to have such a loving family to have their back.

Thank you for reading till the end! May the Force be with You!

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 23/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO

HERE BE SMUT - very light D/s, switching, intercrural, great communication + lack of communication, edging, light praise kink, marking. Yeah. I think that's it.

CHAPTER TWENTYTHREE

                The soft-opening goes really well, better than he could have ever hoped. He’d invited all of the people who’d supported him of course, and the people he’s met over the years who have reached out and either come on as silent partners, or offered business advice or opinions on a whole range of different things. He’s had some of them come in and help refine the menu, knowing that some of these people are the ones who will get the name of his business out there, that will help ensure his success. Or his failure.

                “Knew you before you were famous.”

                “Yeah. Don’t forget the little people when you’re up upon high, hmm?”

                “You think they’d let me get a big head?” Bradley asks with a laugh, looking over his shoulder at Leandro and Silvia, who are arguing over how the serviettes should be folded.

                “True, there is a man who knows the value of keeping a level head and remaining humble.”

…            …            …

                The rest of the week goes really well. He takes Leo out dancing, teaches him basic line dancing, which he’s terrible at but still seems to enjoy. Then Leo comes with him to babysit his nieces and nephew so Sandy and Daniel can have their date night. This way Jake can spend time with his nieces and nephew, and Leo offers to cook dinner. He doesn’t quite understand the look that Sandy and Daniel exchange when he turns up with Leo and says they’re going to cook dinner, but they still leave, muttering about better food at home and he supposes Leo could probably make them something just as good as they’ll get in the restaurant.

                He still spends hours with his sisters, either helping on the farm, or visiting with his dad and helping him in his vegetable garden, his mom’s vacant look or confused frown not bothering him now that he’s had a good day with her. He calls his dad Chuck when she’s like this, so it doesn’t upset her that there’s a fully grown man walking around calling her husband dad. Leo makes him bring home tomatoes every day. Or rather, Maria foists tomatoes onto him and tells him to deliver them to Leo, that he’s ordered and paid for them and Jake can at least make himself useful. The house smells of nothing but cooking tomatoes, but it’s a smell that’s always reminded him of home and they’re not eating them so he considers that a win.

…            …            …

                Bradley has been thinking about it, and it’s started consuming more and more of his thoughts the closer he gets to Sunday, when his flight home to New York is scheduled. He knows Jake is strong, knows he’s good in bed and generous and careful but… But. He needs to talk to him about some things, and maybe this conversation should have happened earlier, but they’ve been figuring things out as they go, not shy about what works for each of them in bed. However, they haven’t discussed anything more in-depth than basic preferences. Briefly. Sort of. Vaguely. And yet...

                “You know what I really want?”

                “Breakfast in bed?” Jake asks, eyebrow quirked and Bradley laughs, shakes his head, because he can understand why he might think that, however it is definitely not the case.

                “No. It’s not food related at all.”

                “Hmm. So must be sex related then… What do you want?”

                “I want you to fuck me so hard I’ll feel it for days.”

                “Jesus…”

                “Not right now, just want you to think about it. Want you to hold me so tight you leave bruises on me… Sunday morning. Want to leave knowing I can see traces of you on me.”

                “Fuck. Yeah. Okay. What else do you want from me baby?”

                “You ever edged someone?”

                “Ha,” Jake’s bark of laughter is loud. “No. Time’s always been of the essence. Never really gotten to take my time before…”

                “Yeah, well… you can take you time with me. I want to have something to remember, that I can jerk off to while we’re apart. That I get hard thinking about it. Think you can make that happen for me?”

                “I’ll die trying baby…”

…            …            …

                Now that Leo has put the idea in his head he can’t think of anything else. He ends up pulling up a private browsing window on his phone and searching for tips and ideas, because holy shit does he want to make it good. Leo’s voice, saying those words, Jake wonders what phone calls with him are going to be like, whether Leo will talk to him like that, because he’d never seen the appeal of phone sex before, but now? Yeah, now he definitely sees the appeal. Probably a good thing considering it’ll probably be the only sex he’ll be having while he’s deployed, although it’s still likely going to be better than no sex at all, which he’s also lived through and it’s not bothered him before. These last ten days have spoiled him, and he has no regrets other than the fact he’s going to have to say goodbye too soon.

…            …            …

                They’ve become very comfortable with each other over, and he knows it’s because they’re spending so much time together. Both in bed and out. Since he voiced what he wants he’s found Jake just watching him silently, speculatively; eyes dark with arousal so Bradley feels quietly confident it’s not turned him off at all. Jake’s asked a few questions, which he’s answered freely. There’s always excitement and pleasure getting to learn someone’s body, but if they’re going to do something a bit more, then they need to have very open and honest conversations. And yet there’s still one topic that hasn’t come up.

                They’re in bed, early hours of Friday morning and he’s very firmly in denial about the fact that he can now count his departure in hours. Jake’s stubble rasps against the skin of his shoulder and he shifts, turns his head so he can press a soft kiss to the center of Jake’s forehead. A warm feeling uncurls within him, he squeezes Jake to him and Jake hugs back, the movement pulling Bradley a little more on top of him. Bradley’s thigh slides between Jake’s legs and the mood suddenly shifts, want twisting sharply in Bradley’s gut as he feels Jake start to harden against his hip. Underneath him Jake’s body goes from sleepy and relaxed to taut in a heartbeat, muscles of his stomach flexing under Bradley’s palm. Bradley tilts his head up again and all the softness is gone as Jake kisses him again. This kiss is hard and claiming, Jake’s hand winding tight in Bradley’s hair to hold him steady under the onslaught. Bradley gives back as good as he gets. Jake feels all sleep-warm and rumpled, and Bradley wants to ruin him. Jake tries to roll them, but Bradley braces his elbow and shoves him back down.

                “Nuh uh,” Bradley says, lips breaking free of Jake’s for just a moment. “This time I’m going to take you apart.”

                He can feel the moment of indecision, Jake’s body tense under his hands and then Jake suddenly relaxes, his whole body stretching out loose and pliant beneath him.

                “Gorgeous, sweetheart,” Bradley murmurs. “You going to be good for me?” Jake’s breath catches, his eyes going dark and then he’s shifting, legs spreading a little wider. Bradley hums appreciatively, but also they haven’t talked, not about this… Fuck. Maybe he should put a halt to this and have the discussion right now. He doesn’t want Jake to agree to something just because Bradley wants it. “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

                Jake’s eyes are wide, green irises a thin band around the blown-wide depths of his pupils. He nods, licking his lips.

                “Yeah,” he croaks out. “Yes,” he adds, like maybe Bradley didn’t hear him the first time, of maybe somehow wouldn’t have taken him at his word.

                Usually, Bradley prefers to bottom, when he can be bothered with penetrative sex. He needs a partner he likes and trusts, and one who also won’t disappoint him. Jake is all of that and more, and right now he wants to show his appreciation. However, Jake’s never made any indication of wanting more, wanting Bradley like that. But he’s not saying anything to the contrary right now. He doesn’t smirk, but he does feel a flare of smugness, tugs at the hem of Jake’s t-shirt and Jake shifts, stretches to lift his torso up off the bed just enough to let Bradley strip the shirt from him. The move shows his abs off to full advantage, and Bradley feels his mouth flood with saliva, desperate to taste and Jake’s now looking smug, like he knows what Bradley is thinking. Asshole. He bends to capture Jake’s mouth with his own, lets his cock press down into Jake’s.

                “Leo,” Jake gasps, and the press of his hips upward is clear. “Please.”

                Okay then. That’s definitely something. Bradley smooths his hands, down Jake’s shoulders, brushing over Jake’s hard nipples, the ridges of his ribs, the defined cut of his lower abdominal muscles. He doesn’t stop until his hands are firmly clasping Jake’s hips, thumbs framing the bulge of his cock where it’s trapped beneath the soft fabric of his underwear.

                “Patience sweetheart…” He moves just his thumbs, a firm slide up the base of Jake’s cock through the fabric, just an inch or two up and then back down. “I think it’s my turn.” He meets Jake’s eyes, making sure he has his full attention before continuing. “How does that sound to you?” He sees Jake get it, understand that Bradley will stop in a heartbeat if it’s not what Jake wants. Even though the flush on Jake’s cheeks deepens, he clears his throat and forces the words out.

                “Good,” he says. “Fuck, Leo that sounds so good, please.”

                Bradley smiles, gives Jake’s cock a firm stroke of his hand, feels his cock jerk through the soft fabric, pressing into his palm as Jake groans.

                “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.” His own voice rough with arousal. “Now what do you think I should do?” He goes back to teasing Jake through the soft fabric, cupping and rolling his balls, brushing his thumbs up the shaft, watching idly as Jake’s cock twitches, a damp spot growing where the tip of his cock is leaking steadily; thumbs the head of Jake’s cock where the fabric is damp and clinging. He can feel Jake struggling to stay still beneath him, trying not to buck up into the light touch.

                “I could finger you,” Bradley suggests, and he’s really fishing, wants to get a real reaction from Jake. He runs the tip of his index finger down behind Jake’s balls, presses lightly against his hole through the fabric. Jake’s breathing is unsteady, a little hiccupping whine escaping his throat and Bradley presses more firmly. “Or I could blow you?”

                “Or maybe I could do all of that,” Bradley muses, running his fingers feather light to trace the outline of Jake’s cock again, rock-hard in sharp contrast to the soft fabric. “And then I could fuck you,” he adds, voice quiet. The words seem to hit him like a lightening strike, entire body jerking upwards, pressing into Bradley’s touch.

                “Jesus fuck,” he whines. “Leo, please. Yeah. That.”

                “Yeah? That’s what you want?” He edges the waistband downward, little bit at a time, is going to have to actually shift given he’s in between his thighs. He kisses Jake again, quick and hard. “You want my mouth, my fingers, and my cock? Are you hungry for all that sweetheart?” His hand grasping Jake’s bare cock, making him jolt again with a strangled moan.

                “Jake… I told you what I wanted. Can you tell me what you want?”

                “You. I want you.”

                “You got me sweetheart… Jake. Just…” he pauses, something squirming uncomfortably in his gut. “You’ve done this before right?”

                “Yeah…” Jake says, but his head is thrown back, arm covering his face and the expression on the part of his face Bradley can see is no longer the happy blissed out one he’d been working on. “Once.”

                “Oh.” Shit. They really should have had this conversation earlier, and it’s not like he’d maybe expected that it might be the case, and it’s fine. Some people just don’t like it, it’s never been a deal breaker and won’t be now.

                “Yeah. Wasn’t… great.”

                “We don’t have to.”

                “No. I want to. It’s just… I trust you.”

                “Good. I’m glad you do… I trust you too. But –”

                “But nothing. Come on, show me a good time…”

                Bradley rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but also he knows enough about Jake to know once he’s got an idea stuck in his head he’s not going to let go come hell or high water.

                “Yeah. No pressure.”

                “You always seem to rise to the challenge…”

                For a second he thinks Jake is making a reference to one of his cooking shows, but there’s no other indication and he realizes Jake is probably making some other type of innuendo and he leans down and kisses him, shifts so he can pull Jake’s underwear off, pushes himself off the edge of the bed which makes a mess of the sheets and blankets but he throws the underwear to the side, presses a kiss to each of Jake’s ankles and just lets himself stare up the entire length of his body. He’s got weird tan lines all over the place from days spent in the sun, but he’s got firm muscles that Bradley is already familiar with. Jake has pushed up on his elbows a little to watch, and Bradley just maintains eye contact as he works his way up his legs, switching between one and then the other.

                “So gorgeous sweetheart, you going to give me a little more room to work?”

                He runs his hands over the exposed skin, enjoys the scrape of Jake’s leg hair against the palm of his hands. Finally he reaches Jake’s inner thighs, leans forward and licks the smear of wetness from the tip. Jake’s legs are trembling underneath his hands as he leans in again, sucking the head of Jake’s cock into his mouth fully. He hears Jake’s shuddering groan, and it makes him smile around Jake’s cock as he sucks it in deeper. It’s definitely not the first blowjob he's given Jake, but it is the first with the clear intention that it’s leading to more. Probably anyway. He takes his time, isn’t intending to tease Jake at all, but he does want him relaxed rather than tense and nervous. Another time he’d get him off and then work him back up again, but it’s not the time or place.

                So he takes his time, already knows how much Jake likes the occasional scrape of his teeth, or the lapping of his tongue just under the crown. He’s being deliberately inconsistent, making sure it won’t get Jake off. Jake shudders but doesn’t ask for Bradley to go any faster. Finally Bradley pulls away. He reaches into the bedside drawer, pulling out the lube. He slicks his fingers, aware of Jake’s eyes on him the whole time and he wonders if he needs to check in. He opens his mouth but Jake is nodding, cheeks pink with arousal and maybe a little embarrassment and Bradley nods back.

                “Nice and slow okay?”

                “Yes, hurry up already…”

                He’d make a quip about patience, that nice and slow and hurry up are counter intuitive, however he’s pretty sure Jake is deflecting his nerves by expressing impatience. He sinks one finger to the base, feels how hot and tight Jake is inside and groans. Shifts so he can wrap a hand around the base of his own cock, squeezing tight until he calms down a little. He opens his eyes, surprised to find that he closed them, to see Jake watching him, mouth open and lips trembling. He sucks in a shuddering breath, pumping his finger in and out a few times, feeling Jake’s body twitch around it for a few seconds before relaxing.

                “You feel so good Jake,” he breathes, slips a second finger in, watches Jakes face but feels him relax and just give way to the extra width of the second finger.

                “Fuck...Leo.” Jake’s hips are moving restlessly, unable to stay still.

                “Fuck, but you’re gorgeous,” Bradley says breathlessly. “Another one okay?”

                “Yeah,” Jake says before the words are even finished. “C’mon, Leo. More.”

                Bradley adds more lube, pushes back in with three fingers, has to close his eyes against the sight, worried he’ll come before he even gets inside at the way Jake looks opening up around his fingers. The angle is different, but he knows he’s got it just right when Jake keens, clenching down tight around his fingers as if to hold him right where he is.

                “Jake? Is that good, sweetheart?” Bradley asks anyway, pumping his fingers slowly but making sure that he hits the same spot every time.

                “Fuck, you know it is,” Jake breathes. “C’mon, Leo, I’m ready, I’m so ready. Fuck me. Come on…”

                “Yeah. Yeah okay…” Bradley breathes. He pulls his fingers out. His hands are shaking a little as he wipes them and reaches for a condom. He’s been hard so long his cock feels sore as he rolls the condom down and slicks it with lube. Then he’s pushing in in in, feeling Jake’s legs tighten around his waist, his back arching and his breath stuttering into gasps. He starts slow, gentle undulations of his hips which Jake presses back into slowly to start with and then, as he slowly increases his pace he’s met with Jake’s enthusiastic response.

                Jake feels good, hot and tight, and he knows he’s saying as much, muttering under his breath as he settles into a brutal pace, Jake’s nails scratching across his back and sides. He’s trying to keep his weight off him, but with every thrust forward he feels Jake’s cock sliding hard and wet between them. The scent of Jake surrounds him, clean sweat and the smell of Bradley’s bodywash, a peppermint-rosemary-green-tea blend which he inhales from Jake’s neck, knowing he’s going to forever associate the smell now with this moment.

                “Leo… Leo Leo Leo,” Jake is panting, in between punched-out little noises every time Bradley shoves in deep, “Fuck, think I’m close.”

                “Yeah.” Bradley can feel his own orgasm gathering, twisting tight, from the base of his spine to where he’s buried inside Jake as deep as he can go. “Touch yourself, sweetheart. Come on Jake… come for me.” He feels him shift as Jake wraps a hand around his own cock, fingers sliding up and down as the tip peeks out of the grasp of his fingers. It’s too hot, too fucking pretty, and Bradley feels his strokes go erratic, desperate, as the pleasure twists tighter and tighter, his balls drawing up, sweat prickling all over. Just when he thinks he can’t hold out any longer Jake moans, his whole body tightening up and then shaking as his cock spurts, spilling over his chest and belly.

                “Don’t stop,” Jake pants, and Bradley realizes that his pace has faltered. He drives into Jake again, strong and steady, presses his forehead to Jake’s collarbone and lets go, feeling the pleasure rush up from his toes to his spine, pressing in deeper as the wave crests. Jake is still shuddering in a way that milks Bradley’s cock, drawing out his orgasm until he’s dizzy with it, his own body shaking. The wave rushes over him and he’s left boneless, limbs heavy and languorous as he pants against Jake’s neck.

                “Jesus…” Jake breathes and Bradley can’t help feeling smug and also so fucking relieved, because this was a bit of a gamble in and of itself. He captures Jake’s mouth in a kiss, bites his bottom lip a bit harder than probably necessary as he pulls himself out slowly, places softer kisses in apology and then rolls to the side and lets out a long breath. Jake seems a little dazed, one of his hands reaching out to scrabble at him, reaches and holds his hand with a death grip like he needs an anchor. He removes the condom one-handed and drops it to the floor before he snuggles back in, pressing up all over and placing little kisses wherever he can reach with his mouth and feels Jake sag and relax against him.

                “Huh.”

                “Hmm?” Bradley murmurs, happy to lie there and hold him, although shower and food are going to be needed soon enough.

                “Thank you…”

                “For what?” Bradley asks, amused.

                “Uh. That.”

                Bradley huffs in amusement, because that is probably why they haven’t talked about it, Jake’s inability to say it and his very good deflection techniques whenever Bradley tried.

                “Rocking your world? Mmm. You’re welcome. It was definitely a huge hardship for me.”

                “God you’re a dick…”

                “Yep. Sometimes.”

                “Hmm. You going to feed me now?”

                “Shower first. Come on.”

                “Ugh. Fine.”

…            …            …

                Leo comes with him early to help with the market, clearly not wanting to spend more time apart than they have to, now that they’re in their last full day together. He has plans for today; he’s done a lot of reading, Leo has shared links and he’s read up like he’s studying for an exam. He guesses he sort of is, a practical one. Not one he thinks he’s going to struggle with passing. He insists they go out for dinner so there’s no washing up to do, and then they go dancing. Leo is marginally better at line dancing than last week, but he’s still not great. Jake still doesn’t care. He has fun, and Nicola is there to dance with properly. The two of them put on a show while Leo watches appreciatively, lips around the mouth of his beer bottle suggestive and Jake can’t help the thrill of knowing he’s going home with him.

                He doesn’t mean to, but it strikes him suddenly as he comes, Leo’s hand wrapped around his cock, lips on his neck and he can’t believe he just got a handjob in his truck like a fucking teenager. But the fact that Leo hadn’t been able to keep his hands off him had been heady, and he’s very glad for over half the lamps being broken, knowing that they haven’t been seen. Probably. Leo is working his own pants open and Jake reaches over, stilling his hands.

                “Oh no baby, you don’t get to come…”

                “What?” Leo asks, but his hands have stopped and Jake swallows.

                “Mmm. Starting now… no orgasms for you.”

                “Jake…”

                God he loves the sound of his name in Leo’s mouth, breathy and whiney and a little bit pained. He wipes his come covered hand on Leo’s shirt, smirks at the annoyed expression and hopes that maybe he’ll leave his dirty washing with Jake. He wouldn’t mind wearing his clothes.

                “You came this afternoon when we had a little afternoon nap. It’s not even going to be twenty-four hours. You’ll be fine…”

                The little whimper that Leo makes has his cock throbbing unexpectedly, and he hadn’t thought he’d get this into it, but Leo is rubbing his crotch and groaning, head hitting the headrest of the passenger seat and Jake sucks in a breath.

                “Uh uh, no more touching. Just a gentle edge this time hmm? You’re not that turned on. But I think a little delay, maybe a long period of foreplay and preparation tonight means tomorrow morning I can really put all the things I’ve read about to the test…”

                “Fuck. You don’t do things half-assed do you?”

                “Never. If I’m going to do something, I’m going to do it properly. Do you properly.”

                “Oh my god Jake…”

                He grins and hums, starts his truck and starts the drive to Leo’s rental.

                “You done this before, right?”

                “Yeah…”

                “How many times baby?”

                “Huh?”

                “How many times did they take you to the brink of coming before pulling you back?” Jake asks, because Leo had said three before, when they were discussing it, wants to check in and see if that’s the same goal or if he can be a little ambitious.

                “I… three maybe?”

                “Hmm. Yeah. Should we aim for four?” he asks, even as he’s mentally thinking that he might try for five. He’s always been an overachiever, but he also doesn’t want to fuck this up. Leo groans though, and Jake is pretty sure it’s a groan of anticipation. “Too much?”

                “No. No. God no. Just… yeah. I’m all yours.”

                Something inside Jake breaks open at the trusting admission and he vows to never break that trust if he can help it. He drives carefully, parks up and then follows Leo into the house, not resisting the urge to palm his ass, because it’s a gorgeous ass and he’s going to try his very best to mark it up. Carefully. They’ve got differing opinion about giving and receiving pain, he stands by his that bruises don’t usually happen without a little pain. But Leo is insistent that it’s not pain, not for him, and Jake finds himself wavering over wanting to inflict pain if it’ll get Leo going that much.

                First though, they both need a shower, the dancing and handjob in his truck leaving him feeling sticky and hot. Also he doesn’t need an excuse to want to see Leo naked, hadn’t been at all joking about the drawn out foreplay and preparation starting right now. Because he has plans and he has everything he needs in the bedroom. He strips as he goes, smirks as he hears Leo swearing under his breath, and he knows enough Italian now to know he’s being sworn at, but he also loves hearing Leo speaking any other language, so his smirk just grows. He grabs the little toiletry bag he’d put the items in and walks into the bathroom, tosses a wink over his shoulder.

                “Come on baby…” Jake says, and he pulls out the lube and slender plug

                “Thought we were just going to shower,” Leo says, his eyes on the lube and plug, Jake raises an eyebrow.

                “We are, but I think I might have some fun as well. Aiming for four remember? You counting the time in the truck?”

                “Cazzo… I’ve created a monster…”

                “That’s not an answer Leo.”

                “Yes. Fuck you. Yes.”

                He laughs a little, supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that Leo is already hard again, because he didn’t get off nearly an hour ago. Jake has never had so many orgasms in such a short period of time, even when he was a teenager there were too many sisters and other people around, and then he was in the Navy, personal space and time hard fought for commodities. The last two weeks have likely ruined him. Tonight may just be the final nail in his coffin. They step into the shower and Jake’s already half-way to hard again, and he fully intends to get off again. He’s not the one getting edged and he’s pretty sure seeing him come is going to help drive Leo to the brink. As he’d said, he’s never intentionally edged someone, but he feels like he could draw Leo to the brink over and over if that’s what he wanted.

                They wash themselves, Jake squeezes the bodywash Leo has and rubs it all over, not quite sure why Leo is whimpering when he’s hardly touched him, although their slippery bodies brushing against each other does feel incredibly intimate and he leans in, captures Leo’s mouth in a kiss and grinds against his thigh, runs too-light fingers over Leo’s erection. He’s aware he might push too far, that Leo might just fall over the brink any time and the only thing that may stop him will be his own will power, seeing as Jake doesn’t know his body that well despite the last two weeks.

                “You want to put the plug in yourself or want me to do it?”

                “You… please.”

                Jake had been hoping that would be the case, has plans to slowly stretch Leo open on his fingers, maybe while stroking his cock, or maybe sucking him, but none of it can be enough to get him there. It’s like trying to deliberately be bad at sex so that it can be really good later. He opens the shower door and reaches for both the lube and plug, which is dark blue, slender and silicon and had good reviews online about being good for beginners and for sleeping with it in all night. It has a delicately flared base and he places it carefully on one of the shelves.

                He’s glad there’s an infinite supply of hot water, angles the showerhead so he can kiss Leo without getting a face full of water or spray, lets their bodies rub and press, Leo’s erection bumping and grinding against Jake’s stomach and he pumps out two squirts of lube and then runs his finger down between Leo’s ass cheeks. He brushes over his hole, feels Leo press back and he kisses harder, grabs an ass cheek with hard fingers to given himself a little more room to work, runs his fingers back, jerks his hips forward at the same time and sucks Leo’s bottom lip into his mouth. He’s rewarded by Leo jerking in several directions at once, clearly trying to chase after multiple different sensations. Yeah. He can work with this.

                “Just… you stay stop and I stop okay?”

                “Yeah, yeah. I know. Please…”

                Of course, they’ve talked it through, stop is a sufficient word between them to halt things. But Leo has warned him that he’s going to beg and Jake isn’t sure how that’s going to make him feel. But he’s an over achiever and goal orientated, so he’s going to try his best to ignore a whimpering begging Leo so he can edge him and then fuck him hard. Yeah. Goals. He slides a finger just against the rim, knows he’s going to want to use plenty of lube if the plug is in fact going to stay in all night. It might not of course, but Leo has goals of his own. He lets one finger slide inside to the second knuckle and feels Leo grind back.

                “Jake…”

                He doesn’t answer with words, simply moves a hand, wraps it around Leo’s cock and starts fisting him hard and fast for a count of fifteen before suddenly just releasing, leaving nothing but the patter of water hitting his skin and the sound he makes is wounded but so sweet. He reaches for the lube again, dodges Leo’s attempts to grind against him and swats him on the ass playfully. Then he’s sliding a finger and more lube inside and Leo is swearing under his breath, then he’s reaching for Jake and pulling him in for a kiss and he goes, doesn’t stop moving his finger despite the increasingly awkward angle his wrist is at.

                Then he grabs Leo’s cock again, repeats the same hard and fast count of fifteen and Leo swears again, his breath coming in shorter and raspier pants. Jake lets go and slides two finger tips very carefully just inside the rim, pressing and stretching until Leo is pressing back. It’s back and forth like that for an age, Leo becoming increasingly worked up and Jake finds himself just squeezing around the base of Leo’s cock a few times while he jerks, eyes clenched shut, as he clearly tries not to come. His ass and thighs are absolutely slick with lube, and Jake’s plan is changing even now. He shifts them, puts Leo’s hands on the shower wall and make him stand with his feet should width apart, and then he runs the plug down the length of his crack, nudges against the relaxed and stretched hole before pressing it in slowly. Leo almost sobs with it and Jake is infinitely glad he steered away from the prostate massaging types, although they’re definitely worth looking at for the future.

                “Shh shh shh…” he murmurs, mouth at the curve of Leo’s neck, placing little kisses as he holds Leo to him and feels him tremble.

                “Jake…”

                “You’re doing so good for me baby. So pretty like this. Think you can sleep with it inside you?”

                “Oh… yeah. Yeah I think so.”

                “Okay, you let me know if it gets too uncomfortable. You can take it out yourself, I don’t mind. Just… thinking about tomorrow morning and you already being stretched a little. Already lubed up. Just taking it out and sliding right in…”

                “Fuck.”

                “Yeah baby, thinking about waking you up with my mouth, getting you hard until you’re leaking on my tongue…”

                “Jake.” His name is almost a sob.

                “Yeah, getting you close but then stopping. Not letting you come. But I get to come, don’t I baby?”

                He encourages Leo to shift again, to press his legs together and then he slides his cock between Leo’s thighs, can feel the head of his cock bump up against his balls, and it’s warm and tight, he can feel Leo’s entire body is tense with the effort to hold back and he lets himself rock backwards and forwards, reaches around to feel how turned on Leo is. Feels him press and turn his head into a sloppy kiss against Jake’s jaw.

                “Going to come all over you and you’re just going to have to wait…”

                The sound Leo makes isn’t even intelligible now and Jake just holds his cock tight, hopes it’s enough to stop Leo from coming as Jake thrusts harder and faster into the tight space between his thighs. It definitely feels counter intuitive, trying to stop Leo from coming, but as he jerks and comes he thinks he’s managing okay.

                He rinses them off, is careful now to keep his hands perfectly practical, and even then Leo jerks occasionally, making little gasps as Jake kisses him and dries him carefully, watches as his cock grow softer, less of an angry red, but still clearly aroused. He gets them both glasses of water and just stands close as they brush their teeth side by side, presses soft kisses to the naked skin of Leo’s back. He puts everything he thinks he’ll need on the bedside table, mindful that Leo is watching and then he slides into bed, wraps his arms around him.

                “Okay?”

                “Yeah… so okay. Sleep well sweetheart.”

                “You too baby. Wake me up if you need me though okay?”

                “Of course.”

…            …            …

                He wakes the next morning and as he had hoped and expected, Leo is pressed along his back, his morning erection pressed against Jake’s ass and he bites his lip, the memory of said cock in his ass making his skin prickle. It has been intense, unexpected. He’s still not sure how he feels about it all. Of course it had been good, amazing even, but he doesn’t think he could do it too often.

                He runs a hand over the smooth skin of Leo’s cock and smiles, shifts to face him and then he shuffles, moves down under the covers, presses a kiss to Leo’s thighs and then takes the head of his cock into his mouth, sucking hard and fast, fully expecting the sudden jack-knife jerk of Leo’s body and he presses him down, hears him swear, muffled by either his own hand or pillow and then the blankets are being pulled away and Jake looks up the length of Leo’s body to see dark eyes watching him, mouth open and panting.

                “Morning…”

                “Fuck me…”

                “Eventually, I promise.”

                “Man’s got jokes… Jake. Please…”

                “Hmm. Nope.”

                “You’re going to kill me.”

                He remembers last night in the shower, Leo’s body trembling as he held back his orgasm and Jake wants to get him back to there again, to have his entire being focused single-mindedly on the one task of not coming, for him to be unable to form words. He sucks him down again, hears more muffled swearing, feels Leo’s fingers curling in his hair. He keeps going, knows Leo’s tells for getting close from a blowjob pretty well, and sure enough, just as he’s about to pull off Leo is scrambling, trying to pull away.

                “Close. Close, so close. Oh my god, Jake…”

                He pinches the skin on the inside of Leo’s thigh, knows it’ll offer a spark of pain that will bring Leo back, probably, then realizes that it might bruise and if it does then Leo is going to be a fan. He moves back up Leo’s body, gives him a kiss which he accepts hungrily and Jake feels so incredibly lucky.

                “That’s three huh?”

                Leo lets out a huff of laughter, but he’s nodding and shifting, rubbing himself against Jake like he can’t get close enough. He reaches a hand behind him, lets his fingers run down Leo’s crack, half-expecting the plug to have been removed during the night. But it’s still there and he tugs at it a little before letting it sink back in, sees Leo’s eyes roll in pleasure and yeah, that’s fucking hot. He does it again and Leo’s entire body shudders.

                “Please. You said… please Jake…”

                “Yeah, I know. I’ll take care of you,” Jake says, because he had said a lot of things, every single one of them something he wants to make a reality. He’s hard, but he’s got no urgent need to immediately get off, which is just as well because the final part of his plan in edging Leo is to have him almost come on his cock only for Jake to back off. It’s going to test his stamina, but coupled with Leo’s desire for hard Jake is pretty confident he can make it happen.

                He shifts away, smirks at Leo’s pout but he grabs the condoms and opens one, slides it on, the whole time Leo’s eyes are on him. Then he’s smearing lube on his cock, wiping his hands and then shoving at Leo.

                “Come on baby, roll over. Hand and knees.”

                “Want to see you…”

                “You said you wanted it hard and bruises to remember me by. Which do you want the most?”

                Leo doesn’t answer with words, but he’s rolling over, his ass in the air, head resting on his arms and Jake can see the plug very clearly. He tugs at it again, smirks at the moan Leo lets out and the jerk his body gives. As he admires Leo’s ass he wonders what it would feel like to get his mouth on him there. He’s never thought about rimming someone before, but he’s having a lot of firsts with Leo. Something else for another time. He should start making a list. While he’s been musing he’s been tugging and twisting the plug almost absently, Leo’s body rocking back and forth and Jake remembers.

                Hard.

                He swallows, knows it isn’t going to be any problem whatsoever, his own cock hard and throbbing and he pulls the plug all the way out, watches and Leo’s hole stretches open and then closes. He smears more lube on his hole, places the head of his cock at Leo’s hole and then just presses forward, hears Leo grunt but feels his body press back and he grabs at his hips, digging his fingers in to bring him in tight close to his body and holding him there as he just grinds in place for a few moments, enjoying the tight hot heat of Leo’s body surrounding his cock.

                “You feel so good baby…”

                He draws back slightly and pushes forward again, his fingers not letting go of Leo’s hips, moving them in counter to his own movements. He hears Leo groan and he bites his lip, speeds up and then they’re off, settling into a rough hard fuck that has the blood thrumming in his ears, heart pounding and he can see circles of white around each of his fingers where they’re holding onto Leo so hard. His balls feel a little bruised from the force he’s been using; their bodies slick with sweat and he wants to lick Leo all over, taste his skin in every spot. He stops suddenly, remembering that he was trying, hoping, to aim for a fourth, but had forgotten with the distraction of Leo’s body.

                “No no no… please. Jake please… want to come. Need to come. Please…”

                Leo’s entire body is shaking and Jake presses a kiss to his head but pulls out, hand careful to hold the condom in place.

                “Roll over.”

                Then he’s shoving a pillow beneath Leo’s hips, leaning down to kiss him as he slides back in and he gets to watch as Leo’s eyes flutter closed and his mouth drops open and as he looks at the dark red, almost purple cock jutting up from Leo’s trimmed auburn curls at the base of his cock he realizes he’s going to get to see that too. He shifts one of Leo’s legs onto his shoulder and rolls his hips, digs his fingers back in and hears Leo’s sharp intake of breath, eyes squeezing shut tight. Jake resumes the same fast and brutal pace, but this time he can watch Leo come apart.

                And he does, between one breath and the next, he’s shaking apart and coming, his cock jerking between them, untouched and looking painful, even if Jake knows the relief of release must be overwhelming for Leo right now. He pulls out, presses an apologetic kiss to Leo’s cheek for the lack of any warning, but then he’s jerking off his own cock, wanting to add his own come to Leo’s and maybe smear it all over. Just a little. A different kind of mark to go with the bruises. Leo’s sucking in huge shaky breaths, not quite a sobbing wreck and Jake brushes back his hair, it’s dark with sweat and he presses little butterfly kisses along his hairline.

                “Shh shh shh,” he shushes, “I got you baby. You did so well. So fucking gorgeous. Just perfect,” he murmurs, and he means every word. If Leo makes any comment about not wanting to leave, Jake isn’t going to be able to let him go.

…            …            …

                “Here. Made you something.”

                “Is this… Did you make me my own supply of sauce? Stupid question. Of course you did,” Jake says with a grin.

                “Yeah. Small batch run, limited edition. Intended audience of one, although Maria likes the smoky one so maybe keep it away from her.”

                “God I’m going to miss you,” Jake mutters, because it’s nothing but the truth.

                “Yeah. Me too.”

                “Going to miss the sex too, but I’ve grown pretty fond of you too…”

                “Feelings mutual. Let’s see how this goes huh?”

                “Yeah. Let’s see how it goes.”

TWENTYFOUR

[xoxobuckybarnes]

May 2024 Reading List

Completed

Mine is the Shining Future (Rated: E, Words: 48K) by brideofquiet / @bride-ofquiet

Summary: He could have a life here, but what would it be? He could be a grocer; he could marry a girl who remembers hearing his name on the prayer list nearly every Sunday mass. He could fill sketchbooks in his spare time and stuff them into a trunk under his bed when he’s exhausted their pages, never to be seen again. He could live and die on Friary Street. It would be a fine life, if a simple one. Something similar was enough for his mother. It should be enough for him, too. Is it? In late summer of 1937, Steve Rogers immigrates to America.

Somebody to Loveverse (series) by @deepspaceprincess

Somebody to Love (Rated: E, Words: 27K) Summary: Natasha sets Steve up with at home cooking lessons when he botches Sunday night dinner. Steve isn't actually that reluctant, especially when his teacher is so easy on the eyes. Hard Days Night (Rated: E, Words: 3K) Summary: Steve comes home from an extended mission to find that Buck waited up for him.

That's What You Get For Waking Up in Vegas (Rated: E, Words: 96K) by Oh_i_swear / @oh-i-swear-writes & ThePirateStorm / @fsbc-librarian

Summary: An Avengers fundraising event in Las Vegas takes a left turn, and Captain America wakes up with a brand new spouse and no way to get a divorce. Coupled with Tony Stark's current obsession with reality dating shows, obviously nothing can go wrong, right Bucky Barnes isn't even Tony's PA - Pepper is his actual boss - and he does not have time to even date anyone, let alone be married to one of the most famous people in the world, especially not with a sick sister and precocious niece at home depending on him. He just needs to keep his head down, and wait it out til they can get a divorce. Easy, right?

I Know You Don't Sleep At Night (Rated: E, Words: 62K) by @humapuma

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a high class call boy working for Red Room Escorts. One night, while out with a new client, he witnesses a murder. The detective who interviews him is big, blond, and beautiful, and makes Bucky want things he shouldn't. Little does he know, they've met before. Steve Rogers is a detective in Brooklyn, called to investigate a murder at a nightclub. The witness he's told to interview is a hooker. When Steve enters the room, he can hardly believe his eyes. Bucky is lithe and beautiful, even at four in the morning after witnessing a homicide. He knows the witness and the rules say, he must recuse himself from the case. How many rules is Steve willing to break to keep Bucky safe? Every. Single. One.

Transcript: Steven Rogers and James ‘Bucky’ Barnes' appearance on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, February 4, 2017 (Rated: G, Words: 2K) by deliciousblizzardshark

Summary: Rogers: Nice to meet you, Stephen. Colbert: And you, Steven. Rogers: The future is so touchy-feely. Colbert: Is that right? Rogers: Yeah, people are always hugging each other. In my day we avoided physical contact. Colbert: Yeah? Rogers: Didn’t want to catch Polio. Colbert: Oh, are we at the joking about Polio stage of the interview already? That was fast. Rogers: I like to cut to the chase.

You remember that time? (Rated: T, Words: 3K) by kingandlionheart / @steveybucky

Summary: “You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of a freezer truck?" Steve gets jealous, buys his weight in hotdogs, and cuddles in the back of a freezer truck.

Steve Rogers. Cheerfully Slutty. (Rated: E, Words: 20K) by @relenafanel

Summary: Steve Rogers. Cheerfully Slutty. But not going to take your shit about it. Bucky Barnes. Voted most likely to fall in love first.

1A (Rated: E, Words: 27K) by tinzelda

Summary: Steve and Bucky are together before the war. Kind of. Bucky sure wants to be—he knows how he feels about Steve. Steve, however, hates that Bucky has to take care of him, so he can’t give himself over to the relationship. Steve desperately wants to enlist, but when he finally gets that 1A stamp, it isn’t the validation he thought it would be. When Bucky sees Steve transformed, he thinks he’s lost him for good, but Steve needs Bucky to look after him more than ever. He drives himself hard to feel worthy of being Captain America and keeps just enough distance between them to drive Bucky crazy. In other words, Steve still has something to prove, and Bucky has the patience of a saint.

[merrybloomwrites]

You Can Start a Family (Extra: Sickfic Part 1)

Summary: Y/N gets sick and Mitch, Sarah, and Harry take turns doting on her.

Previous Chapters: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine ; Ten

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

Grabbing extra blankets, you bundle deep under the covers of your otherwise empty bed. You hope that your cats will join you soon so you’re not completely alone.

It’s not like you have other people in bed with you every single night. Since you started dating Mitch and Sarah earlier in the year, and added Harry to the relationship three months prior, you’ve spent a decent amount of time alone. One might think that wouldn’t be the case with two boyfriends and a girlfriend, but they’re busy people.

Harry has been writing his next album, traveling twice for writing retreats with his collaborators to minimize distractions. On top of that he’s had meetings, photoshoots, and other projects that require him to be away from you for days at a time.

Meanwhile, Mitch’s album had dropped just a couple weeks prior, and he and Sarah were busy promoting that.

All in all, you were very used to sleeping alone. But for some reason you were really missing them tonight. They had all been home for just three days before they had to fly out to Los Angeles to prepare and rehearse for Harryween.

It had been a somewhat last-minute decision to actually do Harryween this year, since tour had ended a few months before. But the venue was open and most of the band was available, and they knew tickets would sell out immediately, so they decided to pull the trigger and go for it.

That meant that they needed to fit in all of the prep work the week right before Halloween, leaving you alone at home for days. They had left Sunday morning, and since it’s now Tuesday, it’s your third night without them.

You only need to make it until Thursday, and Mitch will be back for a couple of meetings, and then you’ll fly to LA with him for the two shows at the start of the following week.

Knowing that it’s only two more lonesome nights would normally help you, but for some reason you just feel so alone tonight. The bed feels too big and empty and cold. You are cold, freezing, bone deep cold. It isn’t even that chilly out, a mild fall evening.

It’s early to get in bed, not even 9 PM, but you feel exhausted. You wish you could just call them, but you know with the 3-hour time difference that they’re definitely still rehearsing, probably not even taking their dinner break for another hour.

You settle for playing their music, your go to when you just need to hear their voices to feel them close to you. It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep.

The blaring alarm wakes you the next morning, and even though you slept over nine hours, you’re still tired. You go to say good morning to the cats who joined you at some point in the night, and your voice comes out groggy. You clear your throat which only leads to a coughing fit. It doesn’t last long, and you’re fine while you get ready for work, so you figure it was probably just a tickle and not a big deal.

Wednesday is the same as Tuesday, most of your days truly blending together. You take a bath after dinner, hoping it will help the new aches in your joints that bothered you all afternoon, and you nearly fall asleep in the water. If it weren’t for your phone ringing, you definitely would have been out cold within a minute.

You dry your hands and grab the phone, checking who it is before answering.

“Hello,” you say, and notice your voice once again sounds a little rough.

“Hi love,” Sarah replies. “I’ve only got a minute, but I wanted to check in. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“What are you up to?”

“Decided to relax tonight, currently taking a bath.”

“Is that so? Wish we could facetime,” Sarah says cheekily.

You laugh at how forward she can sometimes be and reply, “Get your mind out of the gutter Jones!”

“I know, I just wish I could see my beautiful girl.” You blush at these words as she continues, “How are you? You sound a little hoarse.”

“Yea, I’m okay. Not sure why I sound like this. It happened this morning and just came back. Maybe it’s allergies, the ragweed is pretty bad this time of year.”

“Okay, well just let me know if you get worse. Maybe do a covid test to be safe?”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll do one in the morning before Mitch comes home. Last thing I want is to spread something to you guys before the shows next week.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she reassures. “But always good to check.”

You’re about to ask how she and the others are doing, see if she could put Harry and Mitch on the call for a minute but before you can ask, she says, “Oh, I’ve got to go, we’re starting again. There’s a new transition that we’re struggling with a bit, so we’ve got to work on that more.”

“You guys will get it, you’re the most talented band out there.”

“Thank you, my love. Sleep well tonight, let me know how you’re feeling in the morning.”

“I will keep you posted. I love you.”

“I love you too. Good night.”

“Good night,” you say, and the call is ended.

You sit for a moment, your apartment feeling extra quiet again. It takes all of your energy to get out of the tub and finish getting ready for bed. It’s difficult to adjust to the cool air after the hot bath, and you quickly burrow into the pile of blankets you left on the bed, sighing in relief at the warmth they offer. Like the previous night you play music and immediately fall asleep.

The alarm is even louder than usual the next morning, and it hurts to open your eyes. You go to sit up and realize that everything in your body hurts. You take a deep breath to collect yourself, but that has the opposite effect. The second you breathe in you begin to cough, and it feels like minutes pass before you get it under control.

Forcing yourself out of bed you remember the conversation with Sarah the previous night and decide the first thing to do is take a covid test. You do that and as you wait the 15 minutes for the result you make a cup of tea and get dressed. You’re not sure yet if you’re going to call out sick. As a nanny to a toddler, the last thing you want to do is go to work sick and pass it on to the child. You choose to wait for the test results before deciding.

The timer goes off and you see that it’s negative. You call Beth, the mom you work for, and fill her in, letting her decide if she’s comfortable with you being around her son that day.

After telling her your symptoms she says, “I’m okay with you being around Ryan, but if you’re not feeling well, you should stay home. Take a sick day and rest. I know it’s exhausting taking care of a toddler when you’re not under the weather, and much worse when you are.”

“I’m really not that bad,” you reply. It’s not a complete lie, you already feel slightly better than when you first got up. You had taken a pain reliever and it was helping your achy joints, plus you had only had one more minor coughing fit. You assure Beth that you’re well enough to work and that you’ll see her soon.

She fusses over you slightly when you get to her house, mothering you a bit to make sure you’re not worse than you say you are.

“Call me if you need anything. I can get a substitute or Michael can work from home and watch Ryan.”

“I will, I promise,” you say, locking the door behind her as she leaves.

You feel fine all morning, nothing more than a slight cough. Ryan takes an excellent nap halfway through the day, and you make the mistake of laying on the couch during it. The baby monitor is right next to you, ensuring that you’ll hear Ryan when he wakes up, and the white noise coming through the monitor lulls you into a light sleep.

Beth has told you before that it’s okay if you rest while he’s napping but you normally never do. Today though, you can’t fight it and your eyes slip shut.

After nearly three hours Ryan’s babbling wakes you up. It’s immediately obvious that your short nap was a bad idea, and you feel awful as you get off of the couch. Checking the time, you note that Beth will be home in two hours and tell yourself you can push through to the end of the day, maybe with a little help from Bluey.

You’re relieved when Beth walks through the door, having gotten worse throughout the afternoon. She again dotes on you as only a mother can and tells you to take off the next day. You try to protest, since you’re already planning to be out for days the following week to travel to LA, but she won’t hear it.

“I will see you next Thursday. Not tomorrow. Rest. Get better so you can enjoy your boyfriend’s show.”

You smile and thank her before driving home. The second you enter your apartment you take off your shoes and climb into your bed. You don’t realize that you’ve fallen asleep until you jerk awake hearing the door open. You’re confused, and worried that someone is breaking in, but a moment later you hear Mitch calling out your name.

You try to shout out to him and let him know where you are, but as soon as you open your mouth you begin to cough. It’s even worse than the fit you’d had in the morning and Mitch rushes into the room, immediately rubbing your back to soothe you.

Finally, you start to catch your breath and you turn, curling into Mitch’s embrace as he wraps his arms around you.

 “What’s wrong baby? Sarah said you didn’t sound great last night but this is worse than I expected.”

“It wasn’t this bad yesterday. It wasn’t even this bad when I got home earlier. I feel like shit.”

“What do you need?” he asks.

“I don’t know. This is helping though,” you say referring to him holding you. He squeezes you tighter for a moment and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

For a few minutes you stay like this until another coughing fit wracks your body. Mitch again rubs your back, his touch calming you even as you struggle to breathe. When you’re done coughing, he shifts so he can get off of the bed.

“Don’t leave, please,” you say, grabbing on to him.

“I just want to check if you have any medicine, I’ll be right back.”

“Please,” you say, refusing to let go if his arm. Deep down you know that you’re being clingy, but you can’t bring yourself to care in that moment.

“Okay, c’mere,” he says and gestures for you to wrap your limbs around him. Once you’re secure he carries you with him to the bathroom and places you down on the closed toilet lid. He opens the closet door and takes out the box of different medications you have in there.

“Have you taken anything yet?” he asks.

“I took some Tylenol earlier today, but it’s been a while.”

“Nothing for the cough?”

“No, it really wasn’t that bad before.”

“Okay, here, take this,” he says, handing you the small cup filled with cough syrup. You do as you’re told and he takes out the thermometer, holding it up to your head.

It beeps a moment later and he says, “Definitely a low-grade fever. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had the chills, and I guess body aches.”

“Alright, you said it’s been a while since you had Tylenol?”

“Yea, I only took it this morning.”

“Here’s another dose, it’ll help with everything else.”

You take the medicine as instructed, too tired to even think and grateful that you have someone there to tell you what you need to do.

“Have you eaten today?” Mitch asks.

“Yea, I had a sandwich for lunch,” you answer.

“But no dinner?”

You shake your head no.

“Okay,” he replies. “I’m going to heat up some soup for us. Do you want to wait in bed or come with me?”

“With you,” you reply, holding out your arms so he’ll carry you again. He smiles at how adorable sick you is, and he picks you up with ease, loving having you in his arms.

He places you on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island and you rest your head on your arms as he gets food ready. Normally you’d be asking him how his flight was, how rehearsals had been going all week, but instead you just rest your eyes, comforted by the sounds of another person in the apartment with you for the first time in days.

A few minutes later Mitch places a bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of you. He sits on the stool next to yours with his own bowl and puts a sleeve of crackers between you two. You lift your head up and thank him before starting to eat. You’re feeling a little better now that the medicine has had time to work, and you’re able to finish your dinner.

As soon as you and Mitch are both done eating you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Bedtime?” he asks, and you nod your head yes.

He cleans up the dishes and the two of you head to the bathroom to get ready. You lean against Mitch as you brush your teeth, too tired to stand on your own. He keeps a firm arm around you, making sure you don’t fall, and leads you into the bedroom.

Once you’re both in bed you immediately move to lay on top of him, needing to be as close as possible.

“Is this okay?” you ask, and he replies, “Of course, baby. I’ve missed my human blanket.”

You smile and melt into the embrace, his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safer and more content than you have in days. It doesn’t take long before you once again fall into a deep sleep.

Mitch, however, stays awake for some time after you. It’s still fairly early, especially since he’s on west coast time. Once he’s sure you’re asleep he pulls out his phone, careful not to disturb you with his movement.

He sends a text in his group chat with Sarah and Harry, telling them about how sick you are. It’s obvious how worried they are in their replies and Mitch assures them that he plans to take you to the doctor in the morning if you’re not feeling better.

The moment he wakes up the next day he can tell something is wrong. He feels like he’s in an oven and he immediately realizes the heat is coming off of your body as you lay sprawled on him. Carefully he reaches over to the side table and picks up the thermometer to see what your temperature is.

He grimaces as it beeps loudly in the quiet room, but you remain asleep. He checks what it says and grows more worried. While yesterday you had a mild fever, it’s much higher now. Just as he puts the thermometer back down you suddenly wake up coughing.

Mitch helps you sit upright so you can breathe easier, and after it passes he hands you a glass of water, encouraging you to take small sips.

Your whole body is aching, and a violent shiver shoots through you.

“Baby, I think you should get checked by someone today, okay?”

You want to refuse, saying it’s not that bad, but you don’t have the energy to fight so you simply nod to agree.

The start of the morning is hazy. You and Mitch shower together so he can help you and make sure you don’t slip in your weakened state. You get dressed and throw your damp hair up into a bun and join Mitch in the kitchen for breakfast. A shower and food have done you some good, and you’re feeling more alert. You make an appointment with a doctor, happy to see an opening in just an hour.

Mitch insists on cancelling his morning meeting to go with you, but you tell him you’ll be fine. He concedes by just pushing it back a little bit so that he can drive you to your appointment.

As he drops you off he tells you for the hundredth time to text him with updates and let him know when you need to be picked up, reassuring you that he can leave his meeting if he needs to.

“I’ll be okay Mitch. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. I have for a while now.”

“I know you can, I just- we all just like to take care of you.”

“And I love that about the three of you. But I will be fine. Now go, I need to check in.” He grabs your hand for a moment and squeezes tightly before letting you go.

You go into the office and the woman at the front desk hands you the typical forms to fill out. After handing those back you wait for a little while, happy that you thought to bring a book. Focusing on that helps you not focus on how crappy you���re feeling.

Once in with the doctor you tell her your symptoms and she does her normal physical assessment.

“Well, there are a number of things this could be. We’ll test for covid, flu, strep. But, we’ve had a number of cases of fungal pneumonia recently, so I want to check you for that as well. Seems there could be something nearby that’s causing these infections.”

With that she sends you off to the lab next door where they do a number of tests, including a chest x-ray to know for sure what’s going on. You text Mitch to fill him in while you wait for the results.

You get called back into your doctor and she informs you that you do in fact have fungal pneumonia.

“I’m going to prescribe you itraconazole, an anti-fungal drug. You can continue taking cough medicine and acetaminophen to treat the symptoms of the infection.”

You nod to show you’re listening and ask, “Is it contagious?”

“No, fungal pneumonia is not contagious. To get it you need to come in contact directly with the spores. Did you visit the wetlands recently?”

“The one’s over near Creek Road?”

“Yes.”

“Yea, I went there Sunday afternoon. Why?”

“Most of the patients I’ve recently diagnosed with this have been there. There must be something on one of the trails that’s infecting people.”

You continue to nod, finding this mildly interesting. If you weren’t sick you’d probably find it fascinating, but you’re too tired to think about it too deeply. She asks about your hike, writing down the specific areas that you walked to send over to the rangers at the Wetlands so they can determine where the danger is.

“I’ve sent your prescription to the pharmacy you listed; it should be ready soon.”

“Thank you,” you say, and she leads you out of the room.

You sit in the waiting room and text Mitch that you’re done, and he tells you he’s outside, his meeting having finished a half hour prior.

The drive home is quiet, with a stop at the pharmacy to pick up your prescription. When you get back to the apartment you head straight for your bedroom, exhausted from the morning’s activities. Mitch joins you a few mimutes later, bringing lunch and your medicine with him.

He Facetimes Sarah as finish your food, and she and Harry answer. They ask how you’re feeling, and you shrug, too tired to come up with a full response. You take the medicine that Mitch gives you, and you fall asleep while they’re still on the phone, comforted by the sounds of their voices.

They stay on the call expressing their concern and Mitch assures them that he’s taking care of you. A few minutes later they hang up, and Mitch carefully cleans up lunch. He’s about to lay down next to you again when you wake up.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asks.

“The same I guess. Don’t you have another meeting to be at?”

“Yea it’s in a little while, but I can cancel and stay home with you.”

“Mitch, really, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes I’m sure! Go, you’ve got important stuff to do.”

“You’re important,” he replies.

You nearly respond sarcastically but instead you find yourself blushing at his words. He leans down to kiss you, and you’re very grateful that you’re not contagious and can still do this when sick. It’s the first kiss you’ve shared with him since Sunday, and it feels like home.

He pulls away, pressing a kiss to your head and gets ready for his meeting. He checks in with you again before leaving and you reassure that you have everything you need and plan to stay in bed watching movies the whole time he’s gone. He walks out of the room and comes back a minute later, one of your cats under each of his arms. Mitch places them on the bed with you, gives you a final kiss and a “love you” and leaves the apartment.

Mitch is gone for a movie and a half, walking in partway through the 2nd live action Scooby Doo.

He sees what you’re watching and looks almost guilty.

“What?” you ask after seeing his expression.

“I was on the phone with Sarah and Harry while I drove home. They’re concerned about you traveling when you’re not feeling well.”

Your first instinct is to immediately reply that they’re being ridiculous, that you’ll be fine. But instead, you say, “We have 2 full days until the flight to LA. Let’s just play it by ear and decide on Sunday, okay?”

“Okay, that’s fair,” he replies.

“And even if I’m not better by then I could always just fly out Tuesday. You guys will look silly without your Daphne!”

“I still can’t believe you convinced us all to have Scooby Doo as the costumes for Harryween.”

“I can’t believe you chose to be Scrappy Doo.”

“Well Pauli already claimed Scooby. What was I supposed to do?”

“Pick a normal villain from the show, like everyone else?”

“But I wanted to be a dog for Halloween!” he practically whines as he plops in the bed next to you.

You smile fondly, loving when you got to see this side of him. You weave your fingers through his hair and you’re both quiet for the rest of the movie.

Mitch dotes on you for the rest of the weekend, insisting that you do nothing other than rest and get better. He prepares food, brings you your medicine, and carries you with him whenever you’re feeling particularly clingy.

While you hate being sick, you love the excuse to slow down for a few days. Everything is always so hectic for the four of you, and a weekend of nothing but cuddles on the couch with comfort movies and shows in the background is nearly perfect. It would be completely perfect if Sarah and Harry were also there. And if you didn’t still feel like crap.

You slowly got better, and by Sunday morning you were confident that the anti-fungal medicine was working, and you were officially on the mend. It took a lot of convincing the others, but by Sunday afternoon you and Mitch were seated next to each other flying back to Los Angeles.

It’s late when you land, and you go directly to Harry’s place. He and Sarah are waiting outside and rush to the car to help with your bags. The boys bring the luggage inside and Sarah wraps an arm around your waist and walks with you.

You spend the first few minutes there telling everyone repeatedly that you’re fine, just a bit tired. And you’re telling the truth. Your fever is gone, the chills and body aches going with it, and you have only a mild cough. Even if you hadn’t been sick the last couple days you’d be tired after traveling coast to coast.

That night you sleep in between Harry and Sarah, Mitch on Sarah’s other side knowing the other two needed to feel you close to them.

You wake up in the middle of the night, knowing you’re about to have another coughing fit, and try to sneak out of bed so you don’t wake anyone. Unfortunately, Sarah is wrapped around you so tightly that you can’t escape. You start to cough, turning into the pillow to try and muffle the sound but the others wake up anyway.

They all fuss over you, Sarah rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. Finally, you stop coughing, but you keep your face pressed into the pillow. You don’t want them to see the tears in your eyes, knowing how much more worried they’ll be if they see that. You can’t help it though, between the breathlessness and the chest pain the coughing brings, your eyes have no choice but to water.

You try to calm yourself with some deep breaths, but that just causes you to start coughing again. This time you turn into Sarah, needing the comfort her hold brings you.

“Sorry,” you eventually say. “I didn’t mean to wake everyone up.”

“Are you okay, love?” Harry asks. “That didn’t sound good at all.”

“I’m okay, my lungs are just a bit irritated.”

“Are you in any pain?” He questions. You know he’s very familiar with lung issues, having dealt with asthma in the past, and you know that he’ll be able to tell if you’re lying.

“My chest hurts a bit, but it’s really not that bad.”

He gives you a look, like he doesn’t believe you, so you hold his hand and say, “I promise, it’s not that bad. It’s already getting better.”

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you to him. You straddle his lap, tucking your face into his neck. You melt into his embrace, loving the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you. Even though you still feel sick, being surrounded by the three people you love fills you with warmth.

Somehow you fall asleep still sitting up with Harry holding you. When you wake up the next morning you’re still in that position. Harry is asleep beneath you, leaning back against the headboard.

The last thing you want is to wake him again, especially since there’s a show tonight. You open your eyes and see Mitch and Sarah are also sleeping, wrapped in each other’s arms. It’s a perfect start to the day, and you note that you feel much better than the last few days.

It’s not much later that everyone begins to stir. It’s already mid-morning but there’s enough time before they need to be at the venue, so no one is in any rush to get up. Sarah does demand that you switch to her lap, saying that everyone else has gotten more cuddles with you and it’s her turn. You go willingly; something about her soft embrace that comforts you immensely.

Eventually you do all get up to eat and shower before going together to the Forum. You stay backstage and get ready while they do soundcheck, wanting the set list to remain a surprise until the show. You love the group costume that was chosen for night 1, everyone dressing as their own version of Barbie or Ken, you included.

When the others get backstage they compliment you on your look and you smile bashfully at the attention. It’s a bit chaotic with everyone getting ready and having a quick dinner. Finally, you say good bye to the others, give Harry a kiss, and head to the floor to watch the show.

You don’t go out yet, knowing that the fans will notice you once you do, and you don’t want to give away the costume theme. As soon as the show officially begins you walk to the fenced off section for friends and family in the back of the pit.

You’re still not feeling 100%, and the lights and loud music are a bit disorienting, but you don’t let that show. This is your first time attending Harry’s concert as his official girlfriend, and you know that people are going to be watching you, judging you.

Even though you’re still a bit under the weather, you have a great time at the concert. You’re so happy that the set list was a surprise, and you know a fan nearby got your reaction to the start of Canyon Moon, one of your favorites that you hadn’t heard live before.

As always, harry puts on a perfect show. You love watching the fans and checking out all of their costumes. He does the whale to close out the concert and your face hurts from smiling so much. You feel exhausted, and look forward to getting home, but it was worth pushing through.

To no one’s surprise you fall asleep on Harry’s shoulder during the drive home. Sarah and Mitch are in a different car, since you had run out with Harry the second the show ended. You wake up at home, laying on the bed while Harry is taking your shoes off.

“Hi, lovey,” he says as you sit up, your legs dangling off the end of the bed with Harry standing between them. You reach your arms up, placing your hands on his face and gently pulling so he knows to lean down. As soon as he’s close enough you press your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“Hi baby,” you say once you break the kiss. “You did great tonight.”

“Yea? Liked the show?”

“Loved it. Always do.”

He smiles at that, dimples popping out on each cheek. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good. Sleepy, but otherwise I feel fine.”

“That’s a relief,” he replies. “Hated seeing you sick. Hated knowing you were sick, and I couldn’t be there to make you feel better.”

“Well, I feel much better now. All healed up.”

He flashes his dazzling smile again, and you pull him in for another kiss.

“Let’s get ready for bed,” he says as he breaks the kiss a minute later.

The two of you are halfway through your nighttime routines when Mitch and Sarah get home. Before long the four of you are cuddled in bed, Harry quietly humming something that sounds oddly similar to “I’m Just Ken.”

The four of you go out the next morning since you want to see a bit of the city. They each choose a couple of their favorite spots to show you before you all need to get to the venue. You again get yourself ready as they do another quick soundcheck, one of the stylist’s helping you with the red wig you’ll need as Daphne.

Once Harry is in his Fred costume the two of you take some pictures together. Night 2 is the same as Night 1, except you’re a bit more worn out from walking through the city all morning. As much as you insist to the others that you’re not sick anymore, that’s not completely true. Your head is pounding by the end, and you feel slightly dizzy. On more than one occasion you feel like your heart is beating out of your chest, it’s racing so fast.

You do everything to keep a smile on your face and not show how you’re feeling. For the first time ever, you feel relieved when the show is over. You enjoyed it of course, but you can’t wait to lay down, which will hopefully stop the world from spinning.

You’re quiet on the drive home, but still able to hide your symptoms from Harry. Once home you get ready for bed, falling asleep before Mitch and Sarah even get back.

The next morning is slightly chaotic as the four of you need to be at the airport fairly early. It’s not until you’re all seated on the private plane that they pick up on the fact that you’re kind of out of it. You claim to just be tired, but you know that they don’t buy it and are all watching you closely.

You’re seated next to Sarah and fall asleep on her shoulder shortly into the flight. When you start to wake up a couple hours later you shift, tucking your face into her neck. Mitch catches Sarahs concerned face, asking, “What’s wrong?”

“She feels warm,” Sarah answers. She places her hand on the back of your neck, noting how hot your skin has become. The boys are both immediately worried, each reaching over to feel for themselves.

You lift your head up and give them all a look, silently asking why they’re all touching you.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks. “Be honest with us, please.”

You take a moment to assess before answering, “Kind of dizzy. And cold. And sore.”

“Anything else, love?” Sarah says.

“Maybe a bit nauseous? But not that bad, really.” Despite your insistence that you weren’t going to throw up, Mitch gets up to grab an airsick bag just in case.

“How long until we land?” he asks as he sits back down across from you.

“About an hour,” Harry answers before he turns to you and asks if you need anything.

“I’m fine,” you reply. “Can you just, uhm. Can you maybe sing?”

“Of course I can love. Any requests?”

You shake your head, tucking back into Sarah’s side. Harry begins to sing, and you take deep breaths, trying to keep any nausea and dizziness at bay.

It’s a difficult hour, and a rough landing has you nearly reaching for the airsick bag but you’re able to hold it back.

You all get home mid-afternoon, and you immediately start to unpack. You know that if you don’t you’ll just leave the suitcase for days. When you’re done you head back to the living room where you find Harry sitting on the couch.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Ordering dinner. Don’t think anyone is up for cooking tonight.”

You sit next to him, putting a random show on TV for background noise. You grab a blanket, wrapping yourself in it to fight off the chills. You lean against Harry who wraps an arm around you.  Mitch and Sarah join you two and you guys finish ordering food and sit together quietly while you wait for it to be delivered.

Once it’s there you all move to the kitchen table. You don’t have much of an appetite but try to eat some of your dinner. The others notice that you don’t eat much, but they don’t push it, knowing that your stomach is still bothering you.

Everyone changes into comfy clothes after dinner, and you head back to the living room couch. You’re in between Harry and Sarah, Mitch trailing behind in the bathroom for a minute. You wonder what’s holding him up but understand when he walks out with your medicine box.

He takes your temperature, frowning when he sees you once again have a high fever. You take the medicine he hands you before curling into Sarah’s side. Her hand slides through your hair and rubs your back, and you focus on those comforting touches.

You all watch a movie before deciding it’s time to head to bed. You stand from the couch, taking a moment to steady yourself as a wave of dizziness washes over you.

Your heart is beating incredibly fast again, and you’re having trouble catching your breath. The others stand around you, asking questions that you can’t hear over the pounding of your heartbeat.

You meet Harry’s eyes for a moment before everything goes dark and you collapse into his arms.

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AN: Thank you again for reading this story! There will be a part 2 to this!