#the assurance that comes from the fact that one day nobody will know me by name & that the universe will keep on chugging along regardless

[mountmortar]

went to grab a bottle of water and saw how bright the full moon was in the sky and started looking at it and then got hit with the absolute gutpunch of a realization that the full moon i'm looking at is the same one that shone down on every life form that has ever come into being on this earth

[marcyvampire]

SILLY LITTLE BAT

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Platonic! Batfamily x Anti-Hero! Fem!reader.

sinopsis ⸺ In the shadowed halls of Wayne Manor, a girl lost among the darkness seeks the connection she never had. Her mother, a kleptomaniac with a broken heart, vanished, leaving only echoes of empty promises. Surrounded by a family that never sees her, her pain turns into a deafening silence. The void left by her past traps her in a limbo of solitude and sorrow.

One dark night, seeking her own way, she became what she once despised. Now, like the albino bat rejected by its own flock, she flies alone in the twilight. Her pale skin glows in the dark, but her heart still yearns for the warmth of a home she never came to know.

warnings ⸺ Dark Themes, Dead, murdering,Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Discrimination, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Implicit Sexual Content, Mental Illness, Addiction, Suicide, Torture, Corruption, Isolation, Trauma, Phobias, Paranoia, Manipulation

Chapter Guide! Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt4

A/N — English is not my first language—Spanish is—so there might be some grammar or spelling mistakes here and there. This is the first part of a story I’m writing for a friend (Isabel, I love you, you brat), and also an experiment to see what it’s like to write on Tumblr. Please support me! :"((

Nobody is coming to save you

Get up.

Your mother was not a good woman, and that was an undeniable fact, heavy as the shadow that covers Gotham City at nightfall. She was a creature of the underworld, one among the specters that wandered under the yoke of crime, walking among dangerous names like Selina Kyle or Harleen Quinzel, yet always remaining in the background, never reaching their fame or infamy.

She was nothing more than a kleptomaniac and a mythomaniac, doomed to live by cunning and deceit. She took advantage of the men who crossed her path, from the lowest criminals, like The Penguin, to the most powerful man in the city: Bruce Wayne.

You never called him Dad. To you, he was always Bruce, and on the rare occasions you addressed him, you did so with distant formality, "Mr. Wayne." Richard, your adoptive brother, found in him a father figure, while to you, he was just another shadow in the mansion, that huge, cold house you arrived at after your mother’s death.

You remember how, time and again, you tried to warn your mother to stop stealing, to stop lying, that those dark paths would inevitably lead her to Arkham Asylum, surrounded by all the lunatics you feared so much, or even worse: to death. But she always responded with a playful smile, stroking your head with her delicate hands, adorned with stolen jewelry and crude tattoos. "Those are just fantasies of an eight-year-old girl," she would say sweetly, while her ring-laden fingers assured you that you needn’t worry, "I will always come back for you," she promised, "because you are the only thing more valuable than any diamond I’ve ever held."

But the cruel truth was that was the last time you saw her. That night she left, and she never returned. It was then that the last vestiges of innocence faded with her absence. From that moment on, you ceased to be a child.

And that was one of the few things you understood with absolute clarity. There were no more empty promises, no more caresses tinged with lies. All that remained was the silence of a life fading away, like a stolen jewel that never returns to its rightful owner.

The only thing you knew after calling the police when your mother didn’t show up after two days was that they found her corpse in a back alley far from Gotham, showing signs of having been beaten and bruised by some underground gang.

Commissioner Gordon searched the entire house for illicit substances and signs of debts to mobsters, but he only ended up finding documents, stolen jewelry, and letters from your mother that were never sent, and most importantly, DNA evidence implicating that the city’s millionaire was your biological father.

From then on, your life was stained with eternal gray, that muted shade that erased all traces of light or shadow. There was no more white or black, only a silent fog that, day by day, enveloped you and dragged you into a madness that seemed inevitable. Gotham itself seemed more alive than the place you called home, although "home" was never the right word.

You didn’t love any of the Wayne family members. Bruce, your biological father, never listened to you. To him, you were always just another shadow, a ghost in the vast mansion that he prioritized over his other children, his "true" heirs. There was always something more important, something more urgent, and your presence faded among the cold walls and the echo of his hurried footsteps. With each passing day, you became more invisible to him, as if your very existence were a mistake he preferred to ignore.

Richard, the perfect brother, was kind on some occasions. He spoke to you courteously, but when you needed him, when you asked him to attend one of your performances, there was always an excuse, something that kept him away, as if your passion and accomplishments were insignificant details in his heroic life.

Jason, on the other hand, despised you from the start. He saw you as an intruder, a child of gold—but not of that pure and valuable gold, but of a dirty and false one, which he always mocked with disdain. And although you never cared for him, when he died, silent tears rolled down your face. It wasn’t out of love, but out of respect for what he represented, for the brutal reality of his fall.

Tim, in contrast, was the most indifferent. To him, you were a nobody, so irrelevant that you weren’t even worth a glance. Spending time with his friends or being the Robin of the moment mattered more than you did. You lived on his periphery, in a limbo where neither your name nor your face seemed to exist.

Cassandra, Stephanie, Barbara… at least they treated you with politeness, but you knew they didn’t really remember who you were. They saw you, smiled at you out of obligation, but deep down you knew they had no idea of your name, your story, your struggle to be more than a shadow in that world.

The worst of all was Damian, your younger half-brother. When he arrived at the mansion, Alfred introduced him to you with that serene formality he always had, and you, driven by an almost desperate impulse, tried to reach out to him. You wanted to offer him the support and affection of an older sister, that warmth you would have longed for in his situation. But all you received in return was a cold response: a katana piercing your abdomen. I wish I could say it was just a metaphor, but no, that wound was as real as the blade that cut your skin.

You would have liked to think that the pain was symbolic, that Damian had only rejected your affection with harsh words or his usual arrogance. But no, it was much more than that. The only thing you received in exchange for your attempt at fraternal love was a stab, a scar you still carry not only on your body but also in your soul. Because in that brutal gesture, you understood that the blood that united you also separated you, sharper than any weapon. And that was how you tried to connect.

You strived to stand out, to learn, to shine in your own ambitions, wishing that your success would be enough to earn you a place, a bit of affection. But no matter how hard you tried, it was never enough. Your talent crashed against indifference, your achievements faded into the air, as if they had no weight in the lives of others.

The only light, the only beacon in that storm of gray, was Alfred. The only one who smiled at you with genuine tenderness, the only one you truly loved. To you, he was the real father, the one who was always there, expecting nothing in return, offering you a silent but firm love. You did call him father, and his presence was the only thing that kept your sanity, the only thing preventing the gray from consuming you completely.

But even that love, so genuine and deep, was not enough to fill the void that your own family left you. And in that void, you continue to float, trapped between the girl you were and the woman you are trying to be, searching for a place you can truly call home.

Y/n's small room, though modest, had always been her refuge. The walls were adorned with unfinished sketches, trophies from various activities, and some paintings she had completed with dedication, showcasing her passion for both manual and performing arts.

The dawn light filtered softly through the curtains, bathing the space in golden tones, giving it a warmth that contrasted with the coldness of the rest of Wayne Manor.

On the desk, a small cake rested on a plate, simple yet made with love. Beside it, Alfred, with his usual understated elegance, watched Y/n with a mixture of nostalgia and concern. He, the only one who seemed to remember her birthday, offered her a delicate professional drawing set, wrapped in smooth, elegant paper.

"Happy birthday, Miss," Alfred said with a gentle smile, although his eyes reflected a sadness that was hard to conceal. "I know how much you love art, so I thought this would be helpful for your new projects."

Y/n took the gift in her hands with a genuine smile. It had been so hard for her to find moments of joy lately, but Alfred's gesture filled her with a warmth in her chest that she hadn't experienced in a long time. She placed the gift into one of the many brown boxes she had prepared for her upcoming move.

"Thank you, Alfred. It's perfect," she said, examining the set carefully, as if each detail were a reminder of the affection he held for her. "It will help me a lot... although, well," she sighed, as if searching for the right words. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that." Alfred raised an eyebrow, attentive, as she continued, glancing at the small space that had been her home within the vast mansion.

"Today... today is not just my birthday. It's the day I leave here." Her voice was firm, yet there was a sense of liberation in it, as if this were a long-awaited step. "I am finally no longer a Wayne. I go back to being a L/n."

Silence filled the room for a moment, heavy and dense. Alfred clasped his hands, striving to maintain his composure.

"Miss, I can't help but feel a certain unease hearing this. Are you sure this is what you want? This house, though empty in many ways, has always been your home..."

"Home?" Y/n looked at him with a mix of sadness and determination. "This house has never been my home, Alfred. Not like it was for Dick, nor even for Bruce. I have always been a stranger here, the daughter of a woman who never fit into this world, the bastard child. My mother taught me to find my own path, to not cling to what doesn’t belong to me... and being here, being called Wayne, has never belonged to me." Alfred sighed softly, turning his gaze toward the window. He knew there was truth in her words, but that didn’t lessen the pain of her leaving. "I know it’s hard to understand," Y/n continued, "but for the first time in a long time, I feel happy, Alfred. I’ve graduated, college is just around the corner, and I want to start anew. I want to find what truly makes me, me... not what others expect of me."

The old butler remained silent for a few moments, nodding slowly. He knew he couldn't retain her, that it was not his place to interfere in the young woman's dreams. But still, he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart at the thought of the house being even emptier without her. "I just wish you find what you’re looking for, Miss. And if you ever need a place to return to... this door will always be open for you."

Y/n stepped closer to him, gently hugging him, something she had rarely done. "Thank you, Alfred," she whispered against his shoulder. "You will always be my family, but I need this. I need to discover who I am outside of this last name."

The old butler felt the lump in his throat as he tightened the embrace a little longer before letting her go. He knew that deep down, she was doing the right thing. But that didn’t make it hurt any less to see her leave.

"Alfred, can you call the movers? I’ll be leaving tonight," Y/n said as she closed the last box with trembling hands, her gaze lost in the empty corners of the room she once considered her refuge. The butler, ever serene, nodded with his unwavering calmness.

"Don't worry, Miss, I assure you they will be here on time." His voice was soft, almost an echo of the ancient walls of the mansion, as if he himself were part of that structure that had seen so many comings and goings, so many lives broken and healed in silence.

Alfred turned halfway to leave, but Y/n's voice stopped him, broken yet sweet, like a melody at sunset. "Alfred..."

The man turned slowly, his eyes filled with paternal warmth, though always contained behind a formal gesture. "Yes, Miss?" he replied, with that tranquility that had always brought Y/n peace in her worst moments.

She took a breath, feeling how the words she had kept for so long fought to come out, to break the shell she had built since childhood. "I’ve never told you, but... thank you. Thank you for being the father I never had, for being there when no one else was."

For a moment, the silence in the room was heavier than all the accumulated boxes, deeper than any word. Alfred, who had been a witness to so many confessions and secrets in that house, stood still, his eyes shining with an emotion he rarely showed. "Miss," he murmured, his voice slightly choked, "it was an honor and a privilege to take care of you. If I ever gave you anything close to what you deserved, then my life has had true purpose."

Y/n smiled sadly, nodding slowly. "You did, Alfred. You did. And for that, I will always carry you with me, even if I leave here."

The butler slightly bowed his head in respect, swallowing any emotion that might betray his composure. "Wherever you go, you will always have a home here, Miss."

"I know," she said, though in her heart, she knew she wouldn’t return.

And as Alfred left the room to make the call, Y/n let out a long sigh, as if with it, she were leaving behind a part of herself, a part she could no longer carry with her.

Life in Gotham is like constantly walking on the edge of a razor blade. The city never sleeps, always alert, always dangerous, and for someone with the Wayne surname, the risks multiply. It has been a year since you left the mansion, trying to erase any ties that bound you to that life, desperately wishing the name would fade into the echo of the dirty streets and crumbling buildings. But it's not that easy. The name Wayne remains an indelible mark that the media and the people of Gotham refuse to let fade. The forgotten child, the silent accident of billionaire Bruce Wayne. And although you try to live as if you don’t exist under that shadow, the weight of the legacy haunts you.

You left with little, barely enough money to rent a small apartment in one of the worst corners of the city. You share the space with a friend, a plant-loving girl who has filled every nook of the place with leaves and pots, as if trying to make green defy the constant darkness of Gotham. You get along well with her; her love for nature is almost an antithesis to the chaos of the city, and she has taught you that even in the hardest concrete, something can bloom. She always accompanied you on the coldest, loneliest nights, giving you a warmth that, although ethereal, was very welcome. But still, life is not easy. You barely survive, spending the little you have on cheap food and paying the rent. There are days when the cold seeps through the poorly sealed windows, and you wonder if it was really better to be in the mansion instead of this little trench. However, you prefer this rough freedom to the soulless luxury of Wayne Manor.

Freedom, however, comes at a price. It wasn't enough to distance yourself, to change your life, or even to always carry a knife for defense. Gotham does not forget. People recognize you in the shadows, whisper your name, and approach you, sometimes with curiosity and other times with disdain. You have been beaten more than once. Some just for being a Wayne, others because they think they can extort you, even though they have no idea you can barely get by. The scars on your body bear witness to those beatings, but you refuse to give up. You get up every morning, despite the pain, and continue on your way. You don’t need Batman. You don’t need Bruce. You learned long ago that he wouldn't come to save you.

That night, like so many others, you were heading to the subway for your night shift, with the hood of your coat covering your face, trying to go unnoticed. The sound of the tracks echoed in your ears, a constant reminder of the city's hustle. You had gotten used to walking fast, avoiding eye contact, as if each step was a small battle won against the city. But this time, something was different.

"So it was true, the little Wayne girl is roaming the city... how lovely." The raspy, mocking voice rang out beside you, cutting through the heavy air of the train station. The man speaking wore a suit that, at first glance, seemed elegant, but there was something about his extreme thinness, his skin clinging to his bones and his disheveled hair, that made him look more like a specter of Gotham than a distinguished figure. A ghost from the shadows that had stalked you since you set foot on the streets.

If it weren't for his gaunt appearance and unsettling aura, you might have mistaken him for one of your father's employees. "I'm not a Wayne anymore," you said disdainfully, your voice sharp like the edge of a dagger refusing to be touched. "If you want money, I don’t have any. And Mr. Wayne wouldn’t give a cent for me either."

Your gaze drifted to the station clock. 8 minutes until the train that would take you away from this corner of Gotham, far from the shadows and faces that always seemed to recognize you.

The man let out a dry, raspy laugh that sent chills down your spine. "I don’t want your money, pretty girl," he replied, moving closer, invading your space with the same familiarity that Gotham’s filth slipped into every corner. "You’re worth more than that." You felt his calloused, scarred hand rest on your hip, with a pressure that was neither violent nor friendly. The contact filled you with disgust.

7 minutes.

You clenched your fist, your jaw tight as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I don’t want sex either, idiot," you spat, your words loaded with contained fury. Your hand subtly slid toward your bag, where your knife lay, waiting to be used.

6 minutes.

The man didn’t flinch. In fact, he let out a low, mocking laugh. "And I don’t want that either, little girl," he murmured, his cold, deep blue eyes scrutinizing you as if they could read every dark corner of your soul. "I want something more from you."

5 minutes.

"What do you want then?" you asked, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady, even as the ice of fear began to creep down your spine. Your eyes scrutinized him, searching his gaze for any hint of his true intentions, but all you saw was darkness.

4 minutes.

He let out a long, chilling laugh, tightening his grip on your hip. "Do you know what I want, Y/n?"

3 minutes.

His voice dropped, as if his words were a cursed secret the wind refused to carry away. "I want you."

2 minutes.

The world seemed to stop. You knew there was no time to run. There was no time to pull out the knife or to scream. It was as if the clock itself had conspired against you, reducing those last minutes to mere seconds.

1 minute.

The blow was sharp, a flash of excruciating pain at the back of your head. The cold metal of the station, the hum of the city, everything faded abruptly. The last thought that crossed your mind, before the world vanished into darkness, was that this time, you didn’t expect Batman to save you. It wasn’t a mere thief or a street threat that was taking you.

Gotham, with all its cruelty, always had new ways to remind you that there is no escape.

That night, when the Gotham subway stopped at the station, there was no one to pick up.

The mansion felt emptier than ever, like a deserted and cold labyrinth, where each hallway seemed to stretch into an infinite tunnel, devouring the light.

The silence was overwhelming, an oppression that enveloped every corner, as if even the ancient walls had run out of words. It was so heavy that the few who remained in the mansion couldn’t help but move uncomfortably, trying to fill that void with something, anything.

Bruce Wayne walked through those same hallways with a strange feeling, as if something was missing, though he didn’t know what. An unease, a persistent discomfort that he couldn’t shake off.

He had been like this for months, with that absence haunting his mind, a gap he couldn't identify. And then, suddenly, like a gust of icy wind, the truth struck him.

You.

His daughter.

His little daughter.

How long had it been since he last saw you? When was the last time he heard your laughter, the one that always seemed too sarcastic, too filled with resentment? He stopped abruptly, frowning. Why couldn’t he remember you? He couldn’t bring to mind a clear image of your face, not even how you used to look at him... why? How could he have forgotten you like that?

Damn.

It was as if time had stopped. It had been a year, maybe more, since he had really thought about you. He felt a pang of guilt pierce his chest, a heavy, silent guilt that dragged him into the abyss of his own negligence. Not knowing what else to do, he began to check the rooms, one after another.

Each door he opened was another blow to his conscience. Where was your room? The more he searched, the more confused he felt. The mansion was enormous, but how could he have forgotten where you slept? How was it possible that he didn’t know where you lived in the house where both of you grew up? Had you been here all this time?

Each door he opened was identical to the last, as if all the rooms had fused into one.

None showed a trace of you.

None seemed to have a hint of your presence. Didn’t you decorate your room? He thought frantically, didn’t you even mark it as yours? Panic began to take hold of him. Anxiety wrapped around him like a fist tightening on his chest. Were you still living in the mansion? Or had you left without saying a word, like a shadow fading at dawn? But... no, you hadn’t mentioned anything. You hadn’t said you were leaving. Or had you? And if you had, why didn’t he remember? How could he have ignored you for so long that now he didn’t even know if you were still under the same roof?

“Ah!” he exclaimed in a whisper, unable to contain the dread he felt.

Frustration consumed him from within. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, breathing heavily, and the echo of his voice faded into the empty walls. He tried to remember something, anything about you, about the last time they spoke, about how you were... but everything was blurry, as if his mind was betraying him, hiding you behind an impenetrable fog.

How could he have forgotten so much?

He brought his hands to his head, trying to calm himself, but only felt more confusion, more desperation. The mansion, which had once been his home, now felt like a strange and foreign place.

Had you been the one who made it feel like home? The question echoed in his mind, but he had no answer. Just more questions. More uncertainties. Finally, he let his arms fall, exhausted. He had checked almost all the rooms and had found not a trace of you. Not a clue. Not a sign that you had been there. And at that moment, something dark and painful began to settle in his heart.

Had you ever really been there?

Then something caught his attention as he passed by the cleaning room. In a dusty corner, next to a forgotten bag, something was protruding. Something small, old, and faded. He bent down and pulled it from the dirty clothes. It was a stuffed animal, or what was left of one. The faded black of its suit left no doubt. It was a figure of Batman, but worn down by time, battered to the point of looking forgotten.

Bruce's eyes were fixed on the small piece of fabric hanging from the doll's neck. A tag.

Your name.

Your name, handwritten, in ink that was already fading.

Bruce felt a lump in his throat, a mix of guilt and rage. How could he have forgotten something so important?

He clutched the doll tightly, as if doing so would return a piece of you to him, but instead of comfort, he only felt more emptiness. Where were you? He ran to Alfred, who looked at him with a mix of concern and pity.

"Alfred..." Bruce said, his voice breaking. "Where is she? Where is my daughter?"

The butler, with his always serene face, seemed to age suddenly. A long silence settled between them, as if time was fading away. "Mr. Bruce, I didn’t mean to..." Alfred lowered his gaze. "I didn’t want to burden you with that truth, but... it’s time you know."

Bruce felt a chill run down his spine. Truth? What truth?

"She left almost a year ago. She didn’t say where. She just... she took all her belongings, though they weren’t many, and left. She said she didn’t want to be a burden. That you and the other family members had too many things to worry about."

Bruce took a step back, as if the words had physically struck him. Did she have enough age to leave? A burden? Never, not for a second, did he think that of you, of his little daughter who, even though she wasn’t wanted, he embraced under his wing just like Damian.

You were never a burden.

...or were you?

No, he refused to acknowledge it; he just... he hadn’t spent time with you because Gotham needed him!

But when you needed him, where was Batman?

Where was Bruce Wayne when his only biological daughter needed him?

"Alfred, do you know anything about Y/n?" the hero asked, worry clear on his face.

Alfred didn’t look at him; he only stared into nothingness. "...I haven’t heard anything about her for two months...

And honestly... I'm starting to think...

that she might be lost to us forever..."

A/N — This is definitely apart from being my first official Tumblr post, it is also my first DC post and especially the first from the Lord of the Night xD

Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.

Isabel, I dedicate this to you, my love. Eat more to be well, you fucking anorexic, don't suck.

take a bath!

inspiration: @acid-ixx with his Again & Again series, @gotham-daydreams' work, @i-cant-sing's work and @klemen-tine's work, be sure to check them out!

[strawbeerossi]

Grading Papers

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: You are Dr. Reid’s TA. One night, he asks you to stay late and help grade papers, only to see you worked up. It’s a good thing he has the perfect solution for that.

Content/Warnings: Power imbalance, age gap (20s/40s), sexual tension, thigh riding, praise.

Word Count: 1.2K

Kinktober Day Twelve: Thigh Riding

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

Whenever Dr. Reid had approached you about staying a little later after your class to assist him in grading papers, you reluctantly agreed. It wasn’t like you were uncomfortable with him, in fact it was the complete opposite. Ever since you’d been placed as a TA for his class, you had a massive crush on the older man. Every person in your class did, honestly. There was a reason he had the most students auditing his classes, he was very attractive and his dumbfounded reaction to learning so many students used the class just to look at him just added to his charming demeanor.

He was an understanding man, always willing to listen and work with any student who needed his assistance. It didn’t help that he had a million dollar smile, one that made your heart flutter when it was flashed in your direction. You were in love with a man who was surely old enough to be your father.. Yet you felt no shame.

You’d had vivid fantasies, ones where Spencer would call you in his office and push you against the wall, taking you right there while proclaiming how he’d had his eye on you since he met you. 

You could admit you were a little delusional but nobody could blame you. Who doesn’t want professor Reid to bend them over his desk and-

You were cut off by a throat clear, making you snap out of your thoughts. “It’s good to see you, thank you for coming by. I appreciate you coming to assist me tonight.” He could’ve done it by himself, in all honesty. The papers were quick and easy to blow through, especially with the ability that Spencer had when it came to reading. Instead, he’d invited you here for something else..

“Oh, it was no problem. I didn’t have much else that needed to get done and it is my job to help you when you need it.” You spoke while offering a smile, discarding your backpack before putting it on the floor by his desk. “I’m so glad to hear that. I went ahead and split up the assignments equally.” He assured while passing over a stack of typed up research papers. “I have a chair over here that you can take. My desk is big enough to fit both of us.” He chuckled and gestured to the chair pulled up beside him.

The idea of being so close to Spencer had your cheeks heating up, head nodding as you approached his side and pulled out the chair to seat yourself. It was like you were a horny teenager who was getting worked up just by having your knee touch his, the warmth of your body and the tension bubbling over. “You alright?” Spencer soon asked, an eyebrow raising at how fidgety you were. He was a profiler and you knew that, you’d learned he could see all the tells and read you like a book if he really wanted to. Still, you lied. “Oh! I think I’m just a little scatterbrained tonight.” You tried to save yourself the embarrassment of telling the older man your perverted and sinful thoughts. 

There was a huff that fell from Spencer’s lips, his hands coming out to gently grab your hips before tugging you into his lap. The sudden action had your eyes widening, propped up in the male’s lap as you quickly turned your head to look at him. “Dr. Reid!” Your voice came out in a squeak, making the man shrug his shoulders nonchalantly. “You’re free to get up but given your body language, I can tell this is much more than being scatterbrained. Believe me, I know the signs of someone being turned on. As much as most won’t believe it, I’ve been around enough women to know the signs.”

He was chuckling as he brushed your hair off of your shoulder when you made no effort to move. “I have an offer to make. Don’t worry, you won’t be penalized for saying no, I’ll just back off.” He had to preface his point of not wanting to push things too far beyond your comfort zone. The idea was crazy, the man could lose his license to teach and be blacklisted from teaching. However, you felt just a little desperate. That was what made you nod your head slowly. “Y-yeah, okay.”

His large hands were resting against your hips while helping you stand, his hands moving to your pants to get them unbuttoned and tugged down your legs. “You seem so desperate. I bet you think about this a lot more than you’re letting on.” His tone was like velvet, his gaze on the panties that hugged your waist. 

“How desperate are you though?” The question made you shiver as his hands were ever so gently lifting you up before perching you on his thigh with a soft smirk. This was him expecting you to crumble, to melt while rubbing yourself on his thigh..

You fed right into it, hips rocking steadily against the clothed thigh. The friction of the creases in his slacks against your clothed clit had electricity shooting through your body, mouth agape. “There we go. Does that feel good? Desperate little bunny.” He cooed, his hands guiding your hips as he was fixing the position of his thigh and pushing it up to apply pressure to your needy pussy. “Surprised you’ve lasted this long. You know, you aren’t exactly subtle with the way you look at me.” 

Your face was heating up as he’d caught you, calling you out on your shameless fantasizing whenever you thought he wasn’t paying attention. “You’re so precious.” He began while chuckling softly, his words making your hips speed up on his thigh as you were rubbing your cunt along the creases of his pants, the delicious friction making you roughly grip his thigh.

“Gonna cum on my thigh and soak your panties with your cum?” He questioned, lips now pressing kisses along your shoulder. “Fuck, yes.” You whined, the slick arousal from your panties already seeping through and causing a small wet patch on his right thigh. “Well, what are you waiting for? These papers aren’t gonna grade themselves.” He mused, words dripping with amusement at you, one of his best TAs, left to a whining and whimpering mess while your desperation had you humping his thigh for relief.

The warmth spread over your body, a thin veil of sweat decorating your forehead as you let your head tilt forward, mouth agape while ragged breaths escaped your lips. The rush of arousal shot through your body, nails digging into the part of his thigh that you held as you were hitting your peak, a whine leaving your lips as you could feel the slick seep through your panties, leaving you with uncomfortably wet panties. 

“There we go!” He cooed, gently rubbing your lower back as he was letting your shaking body lean back against his broad chest. “You can sit there as long as you want,” He commented with a chuckle as he was scooting his chair up to the desk while he was getting a few papers from his desk to read them.

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 4

Propaganda

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show

We didn’t do hot Glenn summer for him to LOSE. Spoilers for his story but MORE PROPAGANDA FOR YOU:

Young hot rocker dilf

Loyal to his dead wife <3

Does in fact smoke weed

BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)

His band was a Christmas cover band btw.

Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy

Anti government (ofc)

Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)

Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??

Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch

One incredibly buff arm

Has a pet rat named after his son <3

Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged

OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE

HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON

A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)

HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS

IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED

Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence

Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!

I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.

Listen, I don't know this other character but I've seem some good arguments for her However Consider Glenn Close winning through no effort of his own in a bullshit way despite being a dick is the most in character thing ever. He leveled up three times and got a crab mech, we GOT to give him this win, it's fitting

I don’t regulate if minors follow me or not bc I’m a pretty chill space but I hope the world is aware that’s the only reason I haven’t been downright nasty about Glenn close. I’m down bad. I’m NOT in the boat of ‘Glenn isn’t sexy but I want him to win bc it’s my fandom’. I would estimate I have 200+ drawings of Glenn on my phone that AREN’T safe for work. Way more that are. Where did they come from? That’s MY business. But I tell you this fact to assure you- Glenn IS sexy. I’m not voting to represent my fandom I’m voting out of TRUTH AND LOVE. IF YOU DON’T GET IT YOU DON’T GET IT!!! I just think my level of feral over this man is more powerful than y’all realize. If you don’t get his sex appeal that’s okay, but don’t doubt that this is my truth.

Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so

HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. Do you think pickman needs this to feel good about herself? Can she not accept a loss for the sake of a pathetic father? Can she shake hands with the minivan fucker and his human gun and just take the L on this one? He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.

Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.

Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.

Lup (The Adventure Zone: Balance):

Is somehow the hot twin between her and Taako

Lup Bluejeans (née... Taaco? Tacco? Taco? Tako? who tf knows this is why I'm going with her husband's last name. doylistly she gets her last name from her brother whose last name is given as "Taako again but spelled differently"): Hot, funny, smart and undead. Is there anything else you could want in a woman?? Well, in case there is: she's also canonically trans

LUP IS THE HOTTEST. VOTE LUP.

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

In another life

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Summary: Reader is transported to another dimension where nobody knows her.

Warnings: Language, mentions of blood and minor injury.

Hope you guys enjoy, I actually found this deep in my drafts and said what the hell and posted.

Next Part

It was just another typical day where Gojo and his students were walking to the destination of their next mission.

"Why do curses have to cause trouble on hot days, ugh what a pain" Nobara groaned shielding her eyes from the scorching sun.

"I told you to bring a hat" Yuji pointed out, somehow unbothered by the tortuous weather.

"But hats are so tacky!"

"Then don't complain" Megumi sighed annoyed as usual.

"Don't worry, we can get some nice cold ice cream after we exorcise the curse, in fact I know the best spot! It's a little hole in the wall place but they have the best- huh?"

Gojo suddenly whipped around at the sudden burst of curse energy he sensed.

"What the hell is that?!" Yuji shouted as he stared at a hole crackling in the sky getting bigger and bigger.

"Not sure, but I don't like what I'm sensing. Everyone be ready..”

"Right" they all tensed and got into attack positions.

What they didn't except though was to see a head pop out of the warp, followed by a body. A woman seemingly limp, began to plummet from the warp. Which promptly closed the second she had left.

"What the hell?" Nobara squinted trying to figure out if the figure looked dangerous.

Gojo didn't feel any malicious energy anymore now that the warp had vanished so he sprung into action and caught the woman before she became a pile of mush on the ground.

"Sensei what if shes dangerous?" Yuji frowned.

"Hm" he kneeled down still holding the woman. He eyed down her figure. She had some scratches and a few bruises but other than that she seemed ok...

So what was a human doing falling through a warp in the sky.

"I don't believe shes a threat, not that I can sense anyway..."

"The energy from that warp felt seriously freaky" Nobara shivered.

Gojo was about to respond when a glint made him freeze. His brows furrowed when he grabbed the girls hand and brought it closer to his face. Now that was definitely peculiar…

"Mm" the group suddenly all jerked to the form now rousing in Gojos arms.

The womans eyes began to open slowly. It took them a moment to adjust to the light but then when they were fully open they suddenly became full of life.

"Eh?! What happened??" Her eyes widened as she looked around, becoming aware of her surroundings. "T-toru!!" No one was more shocked than Gojo as the woman launched her arms around their teacher as if her life depended on it.

"Are you alright? He didn't hurt you did he? Ah Of course he didn’t what am I saying…?! I-I'm sorry you had to come save me again, I don't know how he even snuck up on me!" the woman pulled back only a bit to face him, but still held on. "I promise you can train me as hard as you want from now on and I won't complain anymore"

(From now on you are the woman)

You paused noticing his bewildered expression. "What Is it Toru?"

"Um… not to sound rude or anything but….who are you?”

Your face twitched in shock, "Um Toru, now really isn't the time for jokes you know" you pouted slightly.

It was when he took your arms off of him that you felt something was majorly off.

"I assure you I'm not joking" he gently pushed you off and you shakily got to your feet and so did he.

"I don't...I don't understand...Toru, what do you mean you don't know me?" You tried to quell the panic that was rising. Surely he was just playing a prank right?? Right?!?

"You know who I am it seems…" he stated, eying you curiously.

"Know who you- Satoru Gojo if this is a joke you better stop it right now or I swear I'm going to eat all the kikifuku you brought back yesterday! It's not nice to confuse me after being so close to death you know!!"

He only quirked a brow at this, "Listen lady, you just fell from a hole in the sky, If anyones confused its us..."

This caught your attention, "Wait…What did you say?"

"He's right, you fell from this big hole in the sky miss. It closed right away after you came through". Your eyes drew to the new voice and you realized the others were here too.

"Yuji..." his eyes widened and he pointed to himself, "You know me?"

You felt your panic rise more, "Of course I know you! All of you, Megumi, Nobara you're all like family to me, why don't you know who I-" you froze. A cold fear overtaking you. The hole. His technique. You got caught up in it. You weren't saved. Satoru hadn't made it in time.

"I t-think, I u-um" you felt your breathing begin to quicken and forming words seemed impossible.

"I t-think I got t-t-transported by the curse I was f-fighting" you felt your whole body shaking and tried to control your breathing.

"Hey calm down, we'll figure things out soon enough" you stepped back abruptly knowing what that tone and outstretched hand meant.

"D-don't knock me out, you promised you wouldn't do it anymore.." although you supposed that this Gojo had no idea.

He seemed troubled at what to do but sighed a moment later.

"For now why don't we just head back to the school..." you reguarded him for a moment then hesitantly shook your head.

"Alright..." you silently followed everyone, feeling more nervous with every silent step.

The quiet was maddening and you were grateful that Yuji spoke up finally,probably becoming aware of your borderline panic attack "Don't worry, weird things are always happening here. We'll figure whatever this is out ok?" You managed to crack a little tired smile.

"Yeah".

*************************************************

Of the many times you had been sat across Yaga, this was the first time you were ever intimidated.

"Start from the beginning" was all he said as you fidgeted in discomfort. Gojo stood beside Yaga, leaning back on the wall, while Yaga sat imposing as if he was dealing with a curse.

You took a deep breathe and recalled what had happened just before all this madness.

"Well I was just leaving my house to go to the school... I recieved a message saying I needed to report there immediately and I didn't hesitate, thinking maybe something bad had happened...but on the way I was attacked by a curse. I'm not really much of a fighter but I am a little skilled at barriars, so I was able to shield myself against his attacks. The curse became frustrated when he realized he couldn't land a major hit and before I knew it he had sent a huge blast in my direction. I shielded but it didn't matter, I remember feeling really hot and then the next thing I knew I was waking up in Satoru’s arms..."

You peeked at Yaga and saw he was deep in thought. Finally after painful silence he finally spoke, "This curse you fought, what did it look like?"

"He looked kinda like that tree curse thing that the kids fought back at the exchange event, except his presence was..." it was then something struck you. You recall feeling something was off the entire fight. Something oddly familiar and it had just hit you what that was. The smell the energy the odd aura.

"Wait…” both men perked up at this.

"What is it?"

"That's why he felt so familiar!" you said more to yourself in your horror.

"Who are you talking about?"

"The curse...he felt familiar because I've sensed that same presence before..."

They waited for you to continue, "Back when Toru and Megumi first recovered that cursed object...and had me place an extra seal on it...but Toru never mentioned it was stolen? Why didn't he say anything...unless it wasn't stolen but then how did he get unseal- shit"

You ran a hand over your face, "You were right about the spy after all Toru..."

"How can you know all this- the exchange event, who we are, private information if we don't even know who you are?” Yaga eyed you suspiciously.

"I think I can answer that" all eyes snapped to Gojo.

"You mentioned a curse being unsealed, one that megumi and I brought in correct?"

You nodded

"Its a just a theory but I have a hunch I'm correct, tell me, what was the curses name?"

"Ah um...lemme think, it was definitely...uh...ama...amamoo, amamee, uh wait...."

"Amamotetsu?" Gojo offered which promptly made Yaga flinch in shock.

"Yeah that's it!" You jumped up.

"Amamotetsu-! But how?!" Yaga tensed shooting up.

"I'm not sure how he got unsealed but...this isn't the first time I've heard this type of thing happening before.."

This caught your attention, "What do you mean?"

"When Megumi and I first retrieved the curse, we teamed up with Nanami. He was the one who told us about this curse's history... apparently this particular curse is known for transcending through times and universes-"

"W-what?" You felt your body slump down. What did that mean?? Did that mean you- that you were in a different universe?! How-what- you felt your whole body begin to shake.

This was the first time Yaga seemed to let down his guard because he now was beginning to understand you weren't a threat.

You felt something warm being placed on your shoulders. You looked up at Yaga through blurred lenses.

"Yaga..." your voice broke as did the dam holding back your tears... how could this have happened?! What were you even supposed to do?! And Satoru, what was he even going through now?!"

"Listen, theres no need to panic, we'll figure it out alright?" He assured you, but it wasn't quite the same knowing he didn't know you." You nodded anyway.

"Satoru, why don't you call Nanami, we'll see what more he can tell us...in the meantime it would help if we knew some more about you and the curse." You nodded and braced yourself for the onslaught of questions.

"First off, it's quite clear you're close to us, so are you a teacher here or something?" You a teacher? If you weren't so upset you'd laugh

"Teacher? No, I actually work in the city..but I do help out occasionally at the school when I'm needed.."

"So then how did you get involved with us in the first place?" you looked over to where Satoru was finishing the call with Nanami.

"Well...Satoru helped me fight off a curse one time, that's how we met. He basically saved me and then convinced me to train with him...since then I've always kinda been around.." you twiddled with the ring on your finger, more specifically the ring he gave you on that special day.

Yaga must've of noticed your hesitance. "Something tells me there's more to the story.." you looked up with sad eyes, then over to where satoru was also now tuned in, phone in his pocket. You took a deep breathe.

"No it's just, it's finally sinking in ya know..." you decided to keep that part about your relationship quiet for now. You were already overwhelmed and just wanted to lie down for awhile. Your injured although mild still hurt and you were now feeling the true exhaustion settle in.

Yaga looked at you sympathetically then nodded, "Why don't you rest for little, Satoru?" He got off the wall, "Nanami will come by tonight, for now I'll take her to Shoko. Yaga nodded then patted your shoulder gently, "Try to get some sleep, we'll figure all this out" you thanked him quietly then followed Satoru out the room.

You quietly trailed behind him in the dim hallway. His back had never made you feel so lonely.

You didn't even realize you were crying until you felt the coldness on your cheeks. Satoru pasued a sec to turn around.

"Hey, there's no need for tears, didn't you hear us? We'll figure it out"

You nodded despondently.

"C'mon, have I ever let you down before?" He smirked.

You smirked through the tears, "Always so confident, no matter what universe huh" you wiped away your tears with your sleeve and walked next to him.

"Well I am the strongest, I'm sure any other version of me would no doubt be the same"

"Yeah maybe arrogant is the better word.."

"Awe don't be mean now, after all for you to be so casual around me, we must be friends yeah?"

"Yeah you could say that..." you absentmindedly twirled the ring around your finger. Remembering the way he proposed all those years ago.

"And here we are, Shoko!” He called busting inside without knocking.

"How many times have I told you not just to barge in here?”

"Well it's an emergency of sorts"

"Huh?" She finally looked up from her work.

You waved shyly.

"And who's this?"

"Well now that's a bit complicated..."

**************************************************

"Take it easy alright, and if you need anything here's my cell"

"Thanks Shoko, oh wait my phone!" You suddenly remembered and frantically patted your body down.

You sighed in relief pulling out the device, seemingly unharmed by some miracle.

But then your brows furrowed seeing the blue case instead of your own and a sticky note with a tongue sticking out. *Bring this to me at work will you baby, then I can see your beautiful face*

You felt your irritation rise, "Of all the days Satoru you had to switch our phones today!? Ugh" you ripped off the note, usually you loved these little pranks but now you wanted to kill him.

"Huh what did I do?"

"Sorry not you, other you.." you clicked the on button and tried a variety of passwords.

Dammit satoru

"Wait is that my phone?" He peered over your shoulder.

You perked up, "yeah it is! Do you know the password?”

"Hmm lemme try" he grabbed it out of your hands and you waited anxiously.

"Got it"

"Wait really?!"

"Yep, All great gojos think alike-" he suddenly froze.

"What's wrong?" You eyed him curiously but he just stared at his phone dumfoundedly.

"How close did you say we were again...?"

Shoko curious leaned over and her eyes went wide.

"What do you mean, what are you looking at?" You moved next to him and gasped at the saved screen. A picture of you asleep in bed in something strappy, barely covered by the sheets and toru leaned over kissing your cheek.

"AH DON'T LOOK" you tried snatching the phone away but he held It above his head.

Ugh his stupid tallness!!

"Satoru wait!" You reached helplessly as he started scrolling through his camera roll. You were mortified to learn that most of them were candid shots of you. Some appropriate and some not.

You excersizing bent over, your sillohette behind the shower curtain, you licking a lollipop, you wearing a shirt of his on laundry day…

"Geez were you stalking her or something" shoko commented disturbed.

"Satoru! please!" Finally he let you snatch the phone back. Your face hotter than the sun.

"So I guess that's what you were hiding..."

you sighed knowing you couldn't keep it hidden much longer.

"I guess that explains a little why you have my grandmothers ring..”

this got your attention.

"Wait what??" Your eyes widened.

"This is you're grandmothers ring?!"

"You mean you didn't know...?" Shoko asked.

"No...you just gave it to me, but you never said it was hers" You felt a rush of warmth knowing how much she meant to him. Probably the only member of his clan that actually cared for him. Sadly she passed when he was young. The truth is this was the ring he gave you when he proposed- or more like told you he was gonna marry you and you didn't have a choice- not that you were gonna say no to the cocky idiot.

"So what's your relationship with other Gojo then?" Shoko asked.

"Well uh...that's a little...." You hesitated wondering if you should say.

"Might as well say it, I mean obviously other me and you are pretty close" he motioned to the phone.

sigh

here goes

"I guess some might say...well if you look at it one way...um... I guess legally and technically other you, and me are what some might call...married"

"What no way?! Gojo actually settled down!?”

“Hey don’t sound so surprised! Although to be honest.. I’m finding that a little hard to believe myself..”

“Well you weren’t exactly a one woman guy when I met you..”you recalled all his various flings in the time before you were dating.

“The other me must be worried then huh?”

I sigh, “I wonder if you’ve figured out what happened yet..”

“Don’t worry, I’m really smart, there’s no way I wouldn’t know”

“Cocky bastard” I let out a tired laugh.

BZZZT BZZZT BZZZT

“Huh?”

“Wait is other gojos phone ringing?”

“Yeah it says “Wifey is calling..”

“What no way!? How?!” I jump to grab the phone and answer the call. Not knowing really what to expect. Maybe the tower got mingled weirdly.

“H-hello??” I call out anxiously.

“Y/n? Where are you!?”

“T-Toru!!!” I can’t help but cry out.

“Are you ok? What happened?? Why can’t I sense your energy in the city?”

“T-Toru I was attacked on the way to the school! I think that curse- amamama got free and he sent me to another dimension!!!”

“Babe..have you been drinking?”

“I’m serious Toru! That curse! The one you and Megumi brought for me to add a seal to! He sent me to another dimension! I’m here with another version of you!!”

“…is this payback for because I said your ass got bigger? Because you know I meant that as a compliment.”

“Y-you idiot!! I’m serious!!”

“No kidding? You’re being serious?”

“Would I joke about something like this?”

“… hold on a sec” a woosh sound emits from the speaker

“Shit..”

“Toru?”

“I just transported to the road. I can sense the residual energy…I see blood, were you hurt?” He sounds more serious now.

“I’m ok.. Shoko fixed me up..”

“So what…you’re in a dimension parallel to ours?”

“Not exactly… I guess I don’t exist here.. or at least I’m not apart of everyone’s lives..”

“…don’t worry alright? I’ll figure this out, have I ever let you down?”

I give this gojo a knowing look,

“Never.”

“Plus my birthdays coming up, and you promised to do that thing I like as much as I want so how can I let you be in another dimension for too long?”

“Ah Toru you’re on speaker you know!!”

“Hey other me you there?!” Your gojo suddenly shouted.

“Uh yep I’m here..”

“This is definitely a first.. ahem well anyway until I get this sorted out take care of our girl alright?!She’s pretty weak so keep an ey-“

“Hey!”

“As I was saying, keep an eye on her. Also make sure she gets iron pills from the pharmacy since hers are here. Oh and she’s allergic to tuna and if she stays out in the sun too long she’ll get this weird rash-“

“I’m hanging up” you reached for the button.

“Hey cmon I’m not there-well I’m kind of there but I just wanna make sure my baby is taken care of!!”

“I’m an adult not a child! You don’t need to say all these things, I can take care of myself here just fine!!”

“Pfft says the one who made me transport home in the middle of a mission to kill a cockroach.”

“IT HAD WINGS”

“Alright alright, I know you’re a big girl. Let me go so I can figure this all out quickly and get you back.”

“Yeah..ok”

“Hey, no crying ok?”

“Ok.. I guess I’ll talk to you later? We are meeting Nanami here because he has knowledge about the curse apparently. I’ll let you know how that goes..”

“Alright, later then.”

“Love you Toru…”

“Not as much as I love me”

“Pfft asshole”

“Heh, there’s that laugh I love so much. love ya sweetheart, be careful ok?”

“I will”

*click*

For the first time since your arrival you felt some relief.

You awkwardly looked up to the pair and found Shoko dumbfounded and satoru scratching the back of his head.

“Still can’t believe it…”

“Um well that was definitely a first…”

“So what now?” Shoko took a drag seeming bored already.

“Now we go and see if Nanami can make sense of this. Come on, he’s waiting for us.” He motioned and you followed with a bit more hope now.

The power of two Gojos with one goal? Yeah you’d be home before you knew it.

Should I continue this? Make it into a series? Lemme know:) thanks for reading!

Part 2

[apoemaday]

Eurydice

by Carol Ann Duffy

Girls, I was dead and down in the Underworld, a shade, a shadow of my former self, nowhen. It was a place where language stopped, a black full stop, a black hole Where the words had to come to an end. And end they did there, last words, famous or not. It suited me down to the ground.

So imagine me there, unavailable, out of this world, then picture my face in that place of Eternal Repose, in the one place you’d think a girl would be safe from the kind of a man who follows her round writing poems, hovers about while she reads them, calls her His Muse, and once sulked for a night and a day because she remarked on his weakness for abstract nouns. Just picture my face when I heard -- Ye Gods -- a familiar knock-knock at Death’s door.

Him. Big O. Larger than life. With his lyre and a poem to pitch, with me as the prize.

Things were different back then. For the men, verse-wise, Big O was the boy. Legendary. The blurb on the back of his books claimed that animals, aardvark to zebra, flocked to his side when he sang, fish leapt in their shoals at the sound of his voice, even the mute, sullen stones at his feet wept wee, silver tears.

Bollocks. (I’d done all the typing myself, I should know.) And given my time all over again, rest assured that I’d rather speak for myself than be Dearest, Beloved, Dark Lady, White Goddess etc., etc.

In fact girls, I’d rather be dead.

But the Gods are like publishers, usually male, and what you doubtless know of my tale is the deal.

Orpheus strutted his stuff.

The bloodless ghosts were in tears. Sisyphus sat on his rock for the first time in years. Tantalus was permitted a couple of beers. The woman in question could scarcely believe her ears.

Like it or not, I must follow him back to our life -- Eurydice, Orpheus’ wife -- to be trapped in his images, metaphors, similes, octaves and sextets, quatrains and couplets, elegies, limericks, villanelles, histories, myths…

He’d been told that he mustn’t look back or turn round, but walk steadily upwards, myself right behind him, out of the Underworld into the upper air that for me was the past. He’d been warned that one look would lose me for ever and ever.

So we walked, we walked. Nobody talked.

Girls, forget what you’ve read. It happened like this -- I did everything in my power to make him look back. What did I have to do, I said, to make him see we were through? I was dead. Deceased. I was Resting in Peace. Passé. Late. Past my sell-by date… I stretched out my hand to touch him once on the back of the neck. Please let me stay. But already the light had saddened from purple to grey.

It was an uphill schlep from death to life and with every step I willed him to turn. I was thinking of filching the poem out of his cloak, when inspiration finally struck. I stopped, thrilled. He was a yard in front. My voice shook when I spoke -- Orpheus, your poem’s a masterpiece. I’d love to hear it again…

He was smiling modestly, when he turned, when he turned and he looked at me.

What else? I noticed he hadn’t shaved. I waved once and was gone.

The dead are so talented. The living walk by the edge of a vast lake near, the wise, drowned silence of the dead.

[juuuulez]

📋 | carmen berzatto nsfw alphabet.

don’t ask what possessed me today. it was definitely all the weed.

soo much nsfw under the cut….this is just paragraphs of porn.

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act):

whatever ur carmy kink headcanons are i think we all agree that he’s really sweet afterwards :( he might suddenly get nervous or anxious and overthink everything you’ve done (“are you sure you’re alright?” “i know, i know, baby ‘m just.. i wanna take care of you, yeah?”) and you’ll have to assure him it’s okay! you loved it, he was perfect, he didn’t hurt you. he just wants some reassurance and then he’ll be finding you some water, a snack, whatever you need! (“just crackers? ‘cus i’ve got this new recipe, it’s a soup, i can make it—“ “nobody wants soup after sex, carm.”)

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers):

carmy doesn’t like many things about himself, initially.. until you’re quick to vocalise exactly how amazing he is. immediately, carmy is enamoured with just what he can do with his hands. his palm covering the entirety of your neck when you kiss, or how his fingers looked splayed over your hip. and fuck, his fingers! they’re really thick, and carmen secretly gets off on the fact that your fingers are so much smaller, so even alone, you’ll never be able to finger yourself as good, never be able to reach those spots that carmy touched with ease.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it):

let’s be so honest carmen berzatto marking kink is so real. it starts out as a practicality, pulling out to spill over your thighs, sticky white liquid that clung to your curves, and carmy found himself growing more aroused the longer he stared at it. now, even if you’re on the pill, carmy will pull out for the sole purpose of pumping his cum wherever he can, a physical reminder of what’s his, because despite all his flaws, you belong to him.

however, assuming carmy can hold back cumming well enough for this is bold, so it usually ends in covering your already sticky cunt and lower stomach in it.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory):

he jerked off with your panties once. it was near the start of your relationship, and carmen was so busy with the re-brand, he barely got to see you. so, one of the rare days he was over, he’d done some laundry for the both of you. and found some pink lace panties. and kept them. and, those nights he’d come home late and exhausted and slightly miserable, unable to call you for you were at home fast asleep, carmen.. used them to jerk off! sue him! he felt so guilty about it (poor baby) and admitted to it after a couple months of dating. he seemed so ashamed that you couldn’t help but go easy on the punishment… tying him to the bed and getting him off by only grinding over his swollen cock, wearing those same pink lace panties.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing):

of course he doesn’t. not properly, at least. carmy’s never had girlfriends, and maybe had a hook-up or two at fancy chef events in New York or Paris or wherever. nothing that mattered, at least. so this time, he’s careful and attentive. asking questions like he’s studying for a test, watching every single movement, every reaction. you wouldn’t be surprised if he was taking notes.

F= Favorite position:

ooof carmen definitely wants to see your face. he likes holding it in his big palms, whispering sweet words over your lips and swallowing your moans (“c’mon sweetheart, you can do it.. just one more for me, huh? fuck— your cunt fuckin’ wants it yeah? that’s it..”). probably missionary mostly, maybe he fucks you from behind one early-morning, his forehead pressed to your neck while the sun seeps in through the blinds.

G= Goofy (how serious are they):

not exactly serious, but he definitely gets into the zone. for him, sex isn’t casual, and it’s a time that means a lot to him. he’s choosing to be vulnerable for someone, and in turn, feels special that he’s allowed to see you like this. carmen can loose himself in the moment, his mind going uncharacteristically blank, too focused on the pure sensation and emotion connected with it. despite this, carmy can always be found gently tapping your cheek, pushing through the haze to ask “you with me, baby? feel good?”, because his pleasure only comes when you’re still into it.

H= Hair (grooming habits):

carmen doesn’t particularly allocate time to grooming down there, it’s not really a priority, unless his partner explicitly made it clear to him that was of interest. however, i don’t think carmy has the thickest of hair, just dark little curls in all the normal places. idk guys just thinking about shirtless lip…..he’s a pretty smooth guy.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty):

definitely depends. i wanna say a mix of both? when you’re into it carmen is so lovely, making sure to express how much he loves you, how much you mean to him. but private time doesn’t come around very often, so it’s usually instigated with a needy carmen coming home, exhausted from a long shift, his hands gripping at your waist before the words come out. his actions aren’t demanding at all, still gentle, but hurried and desperate to get inside your cunt.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often):

carmy is so a shower jerk person. i know guys i just know. he doesn’t like making a mess anywhere else, because it’s just an inconvenience, and cleaning the sheets or another shirt is just another useless task he doesn’t have time for. it’s rare he begins with the intention of jerking off, either. the hot shower melts away a day of tension, and carmen finds himself finally relaxing, finally tuning into his body, only to realise how much he needs this.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual):

we’ve already established the marking kink… and now listen 😝 i am a sub carmy truther guys! i can’t help it he’s so baby i need him to cry for me ;( but carmy definitely likes being bossed around, being told what to do, when he gets to cum.. it’s a change from being in control of literally everything, which most of the time carmen feels all he does falls apart, so he enjoys not having to think (which usually means second-guess and reconsider and debate and obsess).

L= Location (where they like to get it on):

every single carmen office quickie fic is SO SO SO SO SO SEXY they always have me foaming and barking like a rabid animal….however i’m gonna have to say his or your bed! he likes the idea of you being comfortable..bonus points for you guys probably fucking more often on the couch, since needy carmen can’t wait long enough to split you open :(

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons):

there are a variety of ways to get carmen in the mood, but his #1 is a confident partner who takes what they want. imagine carmy obsessing over the new menu, spending endless hours in the living room, papers and recipes and notes scattered over the table. you’ve barely gotten any attention all night, not necessarily in a needy way, just that this was supposed to be your night off together. the solution is actually quite easy: climbing onto the table, obscuring carmen’s vision of his work. before a protest can leave his lips, brows furrowed in confusion and slight distress, your hands are firmly pressing down on his shoulders. “you’re gonna eat me out, yeah? like you promised?” and he is DOWN on his knees, mind fucking short-circuiting, because suddenly there is nothing he’d rather do.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do):

carmen really doesn’t like seriously hurting you, so no intense spanking or choking. however i really love choking 🙄🙄 so i think he’d wrap his hand around your neck, his finger rubbing the hinge of your jaw, his warm palm a gentle assurance of the power he has without fully exercising it.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are):

pussy eating champ…carmen genuinely gets off on being able to make you feel good. his strong arms bracketing your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin, holding you to his mouth while his tongue fucks deep. carmy can’t help but rut against the mattress, hips hastily thrusting in tune to your moans, the swollen head of his dick rubbing against the sheets. “please, baby, please.. c’mon, just a little longer, please— i need it so fuckin’ bad.” he’ll cry into your cunt after your first orgasm, needing to eat your sopping pussy in order to cum.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed):

soft, grinding rolls of his hips against yours, holding your cunt against the base of his cock, letting your clit rub against his skin. carmen takes it slow, making sure to hit the spongy place right up inside you, the one that makes you cry and squirm.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard):

carmen prefers to take his time with it, but more often you find yourself hurriedly making love on the couch, bench, shower, maybe even his car. clothes scattered around the room, a bra on the chair, carmen’s boxers under the coffee table. he’ll take you wherever he can, whenever the time finally allows it, and he makes it deep and fast.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things):

anything you want, he’ll hear you out. carmen loves to learn, he wants to know everything that makes you tick, and will willingly absorb anything you have to teach. that’s not to say he isn’t nervous, as he finds himself always double-checking you’re still alright, asking if it still feels good.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts):

definitely a multiple rounds kinda guy. he can’t help it! the sight of you laying there, stripes of cum over your stomach and shiny slick on your thighs, carmen finds himself hard all over again. expect a round two, maybe three from him, and even then he’ll probably eat you out again.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers):

carmen doesn’t see the use for sex toys, since he’d much prefer to be the one providing you pleasure. definitely not fully opposed, though, he’ll fuck you long and slow with a vibrator on nights where he just wants to watch and study you.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves):

i 🩷 edging so carmen 🩷’s edging! carmy puts on this needy desperate front (“please, fuck, i need’a cum, ‘m not kidding.”) but there is NOTHING alike to carmy’s mind going completely blank after denying his third orgasm in a row, his cock swollen and throbbing with each pass of your hand, only for you to finally give him permission (“cum for me, carmy, i’ve got you.”)

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk):

think about the lowest, guttural moans you’ve ever heard. as carmen gets closer, they taper off into higher whines, soft whispers into your skin about how much he wants this.

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort):

now, carmen does not take disrespect in the kitchen, and clearly doesn’t tolerate people talking back. but you? there’s a certain fire in his stomach, when you glare at him over the pass, or don’t back up whenever he gets into your personal space. if you stand your ground, firm and sure about whatever you’re doing, carmen feels himself fostering a growing mixture of respect and arousal.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants):

i just KNOW carmen is thick…the stretch seems impossible every time, his cock filling up every inch inside your hot cunt, while carmen whispers that it’s going to be alright, that you can take it.

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level):

higher than carmen has time for. hence the jerking off in the shower, and fucking you on the couch. he’ll take anything that he can get, for he knows time isn’t on his side.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after):

carmy will ask you a hundred questions about how you’re feeling, if you need anything, what he can do, before finally settling in beside you. sometimes he’ll lay there for a few minutes, before dragging himself up, uttering some excuse about needing to revise the new menu. you’ll fuss, try and pull him back down, and he’ll fold almost instantly.

[enthusiasticharry]

the one where YN is no longer the governess to Harry's children, but she is his wife (part 2)

READ PART 1 HERE

author's note: part two of governess!yn (who is still my lil angel baby I cannot lie!) this took slightly longer than anticipated to get to you but i hope you will be happy with the final result! pls let me know what you think, and if there's anything else you'd like to see of these two (i'm certainly not ready to let them go just yet!)

word count: 14.1k of confusion, a lack of communication, friends to lovers, a meddling modiste who we all love, smut, pregnancy.

WARNINGS: discussion of death during childbirth, struggles with infertility (you have been warned)

let me know what you think of edelweiss here! mwah <3

YEAR FIVE

YN’s life had changed in ways that she never could have expected when she became a wife.

YN had never had an example of what a good marriage looked like growing up, and whilst she had worked for couples in the past – nothing could prepare her for the reality. The fact that her life had changed drastically from zero to one hundred within a few days was something that nobody could have prepared her for. It had been a true shift in the motion of her life, and even though it pained her to say – she did not know whether or not this was a welcome addition to her life.

Their wedding day had been a year ago. It took place in early June, which seemed very apt to their relationship. The first time that YN had joined Harry and the children for meals had been in June, and the summer held a very special place in their friendship – relationship? In all honesty, she did not know whether or not their marriage at this point was one of convenience or one that truly meant that something was between them.

As YN did not have a mother to talk her through life as a married woman, she was thankful for the information that she had managed to retain on her own in her life. Miss Francis had sat her down the day before her wedding and attempted to explain what a wedding night included, but YN had put a stop to that conversation immediately and tried to continue to assure the older woman that she knew what was to happen.

Even though YN knew what was to occur on the wedding night, it did not necessarily mean that the act would occur on the said night.

Harry had never attempted to initiate anything of an intimate context between the two of them. The last and only time that they had ever kissed had been on their wedding day, a necessity to ensure that their marriage was fulfilled. Even once they had returned home, she had received no advancements from Harry at all – and had concluded pretty quickly that maybe he did not wish to share this with her. YN knew that this was not completely shocking, seeing as though she was Harry’s second wife, and he had already experienced this before.

There was also a part of her that knew that men had needs. She had come to this conclusion pretty quickly after the husband at the other house she worked at left every night without fail to meet with his mistress (or mistresses, as YN had no idea about the fine details) and yet she could state with full confidence that Harry had never done so. She knew this with such confidence because they spent every evening together (with a considerable amount of space between the two of them obviously) before they retired to bed.

YN would be lying if she said that she had hoped that her marriage to Harry would offer some clarification on what it was she was feeling. She had spent so long denying her wish for marriage, and she thought that once that wish had been fulfilled everything would be put into some sort of perspective for her. Instead, it had confused and worried her more than it had before. The overwhelming, thought-provoking idea that ran through her head most days was that Harry had married YN just to appease her, to be a good friend and that was it. It made her think that Harry (no matter how many times he verbally denied it to her) did not wish for this.

It was not as though Harry required an heir to his estate – he already had one. That normally looming requirement of marriage was gone for him. YN was three and thirty now, and that could offer little in security as to whether she could have children, and with that gone she could not understand why Harry wanted to marry her. If anything, the only reason a man in Harry’s standing would marry was to ease a loneliness he had.

At first, Noah and Honorah had been confused as to why YN was no longer their governess, and instead their mother. YN had assured both of the children immediately that she could never take away their mother from them, and if they wished to continue to call her Miss YN, they could do so without any worries at all. Noah, who stood at ten when they married had huffed and refused to speak to his father or YN for the first few weeks (something that was inherently a trait of Harry’s, but YN would never outwardly tell him that). Norah, however, had only been seven at the time and saw the whole spectacle as something so exciting and had welcomed the change with open arms. YN assumed that since she had never met her mother, YN had been the closest thing to one for her – and she assumed that would be something difficult for both Harry and Noah to accept.

Even though these questions of intimacy usually loomed in the back of YN’s mind most days, along with questions of how the children were faring with the change. But, thankfully, her ole had changed within the household, and she now had duties as Mrs Styles that often took her attention throughout most of the day. The most prevalent job that took up most of her time now involved the children, and more specifically – finding a new governess for them.

To the blind eye, the task on the surface seemed so simple – but in reality, it was not. In the past year, the children (predominantly Noah) had managed to run four governesses out of the door – with the longest of them lasting two and a half weeks.

That was how YN had found herself now – sitting in the drawing room with the fifth governess she had hired who had lasted all of three days.

“… I am sorry, Mrs Styles, but they are terrors. The little boy placed a frog not only on my chair but in every drawer of my desk! And the little girl, well, she listens to everything the boy says and responds to all of my questions by ribbiting like a frog! They are completely unteachable!” Miss Morris exclaims, and YN has to physically refrain herself from rolling her eyes.

“And yet I managed to do it for four years,” YN mumbled quietly whilst running her finger across her eyebrow.

Miss Morris leant forward slightly in her seat, turning her ear towards YN, “Sorry, what was that Mrs Styles?”

“Nothing,” YN shook her head, offering a small smile to Miss Morris, “I do just have to remind you, Miss Morris, that they are children. They are not going to be easy to work with. Mr Styles has raised gorgeous, inquisitive and at times mischievous children – but they are no worse than any you may find with another family.”

Miss Morris shook her head, rather violently at that, “You are only saying such as they are your children – you see them through rose-tinted glasses. They are nothing but terrors, unteachable terrors!”

YN sighed before standing up, nodding at Miss Morris to do the same, “Very well then, Miss Morris. If you had not already claimed that you could not teach the children, you would lose your employment just by calling them terrors. You may have the night to arrange your leave, but you shall not interact with the children.”

Miss Morris opened her mouth as though she was to speak but YN shook her head.

“I would not say anything else if I were you,” YN spoke with a nod.

Miss Morris took one last look at YN, nodded, and turned to leave the room. It was not until YN knew that she was in the all-clear that she sighed and dropped back down on the settee again, exhaling a breath that she did not know she had been holding.

The list of once four failed governesses had now turned to five. Somewhere deep down YN knew this would be the case. It was not that she was necessarily full of herself, but more so that she knew she was the best of the best in terms of governesses. No matter who she presented in front of the children, and whether or not they were good governesses or not – they would never be able to help the children in the way that she did. That was the dilemma that YN found herself in day after day.

The sound of footsteps walking towards the room, and subsequently entering knocked YN right out of her daydream, or potentially it was a crisis – she would never know.

“I think Miss Morris just grunted at me,” Harry spoke, pointing back at the door with a confused look on his face.

YN sighed once more, running a hand across her face, “She can grunt all she wants, Harry! She is out of this house by morning.”

“Oh,” Harry sighed, dropping down on the settee across from her, “She quit?”

YN shrugged her shoulders slightly, “And I fired her. She dared to call the children terrors. Terrors, Harry! I was a moment away from doing something so regrettable I probably would have been sent away!”

Harry laughed with a slight shake of his head, “I told you there was no use in trying to find a new governess.”

“The children still need to be taught, Harry,” YN pointed out, as though she was stating the obvious.

“And you can do it,” Harry shrugged, as though he was the one stating the most obvious thing in the world, “I know that is not necessarily the way that things are done, but when have we ever done things that way?”

A smile taunted on YN’s face, “You would not mind? Having a wife that does not follow the correct rules of society?”

Harry just laughed, “If I cared about the correct rules in society then you would not be my wife.”

YN finally smiled and nodded her head, “I will teach them – God knows that nobody will ever be as good as me.”

“That is certainly more like it,” Harry nodded his head and stood up, “I did have something to tell you before Miss Morris grunted at me. I am going out tonight, a friend of mine is back from a trip abroad. We are meeting at the tavern for a few drinks.”

“Oh,” YN’s heart pummelled to the pit of her stomach, “The tavern?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, “Yes. Is that going to be a problem?”

“No,” YN assured quickly, trying her best to not make the twist in her stomach obvious to Harry, “I hope you have a lovely time.”

Harry nodded, the confused look returning to his features one last time before he offered her another smile and left the room. YN had seen the tavern but had never been inside. She had only ever seen it on her trips into the village. She also knew of its reputation, although she would not say that she wanted to. Those back rooms, and what they held were the thing that concerned her, she supposed.

More than anything, it turned her stomach so much she was unsure how she did not throw up. 

No matter how much she tried, YN could not sleep a wink.

The children had gone to bed hours ago, and surprisingly (to YN’s relief) without any stress. Her body, however, could not accept that relief due to how stressed she was currently feeling.

YN had tried counting sheep, and she had tried running through everything she had planned for tomorrow in her head, but she just could not shake the thoughts out of her head.

She could not shake the thoughts out of her head of everything that Harry was getting up to during his visit to the tavern.

Before, when YN knew that Harry was inside the four walls of this house and could therefore not be doing the things that YN was imagining in her head – there was no cause for her to worry. It was all fine before because she knew that whilst he was not being intimate with her, he was not with anyone else.

YN could not say that now because she did not know if it was true.

It was something that the two of them never spoke about – they never mentioned it. They both danced around the subject as though it was an open flame, neither one of them attempting to get closer to it. YN was truly regretting that now. At least if they had the conversation, if she had forced them to discuss this then she would have some peace of mind at least. Then again, she cannot imagine knowing he was doing such things would offer her any piece of mind.

After failing to succumb to sleep, YN had ended up wrapping herself in a blanket in Harry’s study, one of his books pressed firmly in her hand. She would say that she was reading it, but she had read the last sentence around twenty times and still not managed to finish it.

Then the door opened.

Harry’s head was lulled forward, his posture slightly hunched and his movements sporadic. He was drunk. Without even thinking about it, her eyes danced around his body attempting to see if there were any creases in his clothes that had not been there before he left. 

There was not, and for the first time that entire evening her heart slowed down to a normal pace.

“I saw the light,” He offered her a boyish grin, “I wondered who was sneaking around at this time – I should have known it was you.”

YN sighed in relief, dropping the book closed in her lap, “You are drunk.”

Harry nodded, not even trying to attempt to hide it. His body stumbled towards the other end of the settee from where she was. YN lifted her hand to her head when she watched him nearly fall off, but he caught himself thankfully before there was any need for her to intervene.

“Have I ever told you that you just might be the smartest person I have ever known?” He raised his eyebrow at her, a teasing look on his face.

YN gasped, immediately picking up the book in her lap to smack him on the shoulder with, “I should have known you were such a tease whilst drunk.”

Harry began to laugh, and no matter how much YN tried to resist it she could not help but join in. YN thought that she had seen all the sides to Harry, and yet there were ones that she was learning about every day.

“How was reuniting with your friend?” YN asked, watching as his head lulled back against the settee, dropping to the side slightly so that he was looking at her, “I suppose that is possibly a silly question given the state you are currently in.”

Harry nodded his head, “It was very enjoyable, although I suppose his constant discussion of beaches across the world did need to be taken hand in hand with a drink the further into the night we were.”

YN laughed, “I cannot ever imagine you not being interested in a conversation, Harry.”

He shook his head, leaning towards her slightly, “I was interested! The first time! It was just my luck that every time William had a drink it was as though his memory was wiped and he did not know he had already told me all of it before!”

YN did end up in a fit of laughter at his words. There was an ounce or so of further relief that she felt in that laugh, knowing that the stress she had found herself in was for no reason. It was nice to know that he had not withheld the truth from her – even though she was damning herself for even thinking that he would lie to her.

“It sounds as though you had quite the eventful night, then,” YN leant forward to place the book on the table in front of them before standing up, “Are you able to get yourself to your bedchamber, or are you staying here for the night?”

Harry grunted slightly, his head rolling to the side slightly to look out of the window behind him.

“What was that?” YN pressed, inching a step closer towards him, “You will have to use your words, Harry, I do not speak in grunt.”

“I do not wish to go to bed,” Harry mumbled with a shake of his head, “I do not wish to go to bed because the bed will be cold, and empty and you will be down the hall.”

YN’s lips parted slightly in shock. She knew that Harry was drunk, and therefore his inhibitions were lowered but there must have still been an aspect to it that was the truth. There was a slight part of her that was slightly annoyed by his words. She was annoyed that it had taken him a year into their marriage, on a night when he was drunk to say anything of this sort to her.

YN shook her head, “Harry, you must go to bed and sleep this off.”

“No, we do not have to go to bed,” He reached out to grab her hands, pulling her closer to him, “We can stay here, and we can talk, and you can sit next to me.”

“We cannot,” YN shook her head, unable to stop the pull he had on her, “We must sleep, otherwise we will not get anything done tomorrow.”

“That is fine, YN, we can have a day.” Harry nodded his head, “We could… we could just… we could be together tonight and tomorrow, and it would not matter.”

YN sighs, and she attempts to take a step backwards, but Harry instead wraps his arm around her waist. He rests his head against her stomach, and she can feel the heat of his skin through the thin material of her nightgown. The feeling itself was like pinpricks across the expanse of her skin.

YN did not know what to do – she did not know what to think. Instead of trying to pull away from him (which was impossible due to how tightly he had wrapped himself around her), and against her better judgment – she gave in to him. This was the closest that they had physically been to each other since their wedding day, and she knew it was wrong but there was a part of her that did not want this to end just yet.

Instead of pulling away, her fingers found their way through his hair until they were resting in the curls at the nape of his neck.

He sighed against her stomach, causing heat to rush over her skin that she had never experienced in her life. If this is what she was missing out on, she was cursing herself for not forcing them to have a conversation. She supposed that Harry’s behaviour tonight had made it so they had no choice in the matter.

“Harry,” YN whispered, bringing her hands from the nape of his neck towards his cheeks so that she could pull his face away from her and look at him, “Let us go to bed.”

“No,” He shook his head again, “I told you; I do not want to.”

“Harry,” YN sighed, running her finger across the skin of his cheekbone, “You are not listening to me – let us go to bed.”

When YN woke up the next morning, everything felt different.

This was still her room. There were still her curtains hanging above the windows, her bed she was laid upon and still her books that rested upon every shelf in the room – but things were different.

YN often woke up when the light started to seep through the crack in her curtains, and today was no different. This time, however, she was not alone in doing so.

Her entire body felt warm. There was an excess of heat covering her from behind, an arm wrapped so tightly around her waist making it so even if she wanted to escape – there was no way in which she would be able to. Harry’s head pressed firmly into her neck, his steady breathing causing goosebumps to cover her entire body.

Last night, after Harry had finally registered the words that YN was saying – he had allowed her to direct him to her bedchamber. She had tried not to, but she had been unable to redirect her eyes when he had stripped off his jacket, shirt, and trousers before climbing into her bed. They did not talk, only looked at one another. They had settled into bed for the first time since their wedding day a year ago together, without a single conversation as to why between them. Harry had pulled YN’s body close to his, and they had fallen asleep – and that was it.  

YN knew that it was early in the morning, and Harry would probably need a few more hours or so to sleep off the remnants of last night – but there was no way that YN would manage to fall back asleep. YN tried to pull Harry’s arm off of her, but he grunted slightly, and his arm felt even tighter than it had done before.

YN sighed, unable to do anything but move slightly so that she was on her back and could face Harry. There was something so boyish about his features when he was asleep. It was as though all the stress of being an adult left him the second he was asleep, and YN felt a sort of privilege that she was able to witness him in this state.

It was this that caused YN to lift her hand and run her finger along the soft skin of his cheek – just in the way that she had done last night. Her body jumped slightly in his arms when his eyes opened. This was, in fact, the closest she had ever been to him – and the fact that she could see those green eyes of his looking so closely caused her stomach to somersault.

“It is too early,” He whispered hoarsely to her, “Go back to sleep.”

YN chuckled slightly, her fingers slipping back through his hair, “The children will be awake soon.”

“And we have a staff willing and ready to help with them,” He mumbled, dropping his head further into her neck, “Go back to sleep.”

YN lightly shook her head again, “Even if I tried, I highly doubt it would be possible. Even so, the children have missed out on so much learning these last few months – and I am excited to get them back into a classroom.”

“Another day is not going to harm them,” YN could feel Harry’s lips moving against her neck as he spoke, and then they closed, and he left the lightest of kisses on her skin.

“Harry…” YN whispered, her head pulling away from his slightly so that she could look into his eyes, “What are you doing?”

Harry sighed, his head lulling backwards so that he was laid on his back, just as she was. Whilst they needed to have this conversation, there was a part of her that wondered whether or not being laid in her bed, with Harry possibly having what YN would deem as a slightly delicate condition was the best place for this.

“I…” Harry sighed, lifting his hand to his forehead, “I do not know.”

YN’s breath caught slightly in her throat, “You do not know?”

“I do know, but I do not want to offend or upset you,” Harry sighs, turning his head so that he is looking at her again.

YN sighed, reaching out to grab Harry’s hand, “Whatever it is, you must tell me, Harry. I am your wife; you can tell me anything.”

Harry lifted their joint hands to his lips so that he could place a kiss on the back of her hand, “I understand that when we married, we did so for ease. It was the best thing for us both at that time, and I understand that you may not feel the same but…”

His words stopped, and his eyes dropped down to her lips, lingering for just a moment before they bounced back up to her eyes.

“I may not feel the same how, Harry?”

Harry hesitated for a second, “That I feel as though my affections for you have grown.”

“Harry…” YN whispered, shaking her head lightly, “You cannot… You cannot say such words to me if you do not mean it…”

“I do,” Harry nodded, “I do mean it. I have meant it for a while now, but I never dared to say so. It seemed that all I needed was some liquid courage, and I could not stop myself.”

YN chuckled, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his, “You should not have been scared to speak your mind, Harry.”

“What?” He whispered.

“You should not have been scared to speak your mind because then you would have found out that I feel the same.”

Harry’s face broke out into a smile, and it was quickly after that YN’s followed. He lifted his hand to her cheek, brushing her hair away from her face. It was then that her heart rate began to speed up – when his face started itching closer to hers. Just as she thought that Harry was going to place his lips against hers, the door to YN’s room burst open.

YN pulled her body away from Harry’s, lifting slightly to see Honorah bouncing towards them – still in her nightgown and having obviously just woken up.

“What is it, Norah?” YN smiled at the little girl, watching as she pulled herself up onto YN’s bed.

“I went to Papa’s room, but he was not there, so I came here to find you and I found Papa too!” The little girl smiled, crawling up the bed so that she could drop down between YN and Harry at the top.

“You found us,” Harry mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of his little girl’s head as she cuddled up to him, “How did you sleep?”

Honorah nodded her head, “Very well. I dreamt of horses, and I have decided I quite like them.”

YN chuckled, “That sounds lovely, Norah. We shall have to take you to the stables at some point to visit the horses.”

“Really?” Her entire face broke out into a beaming smile, and she began to tell her father all about the horse in her dream.

As much as it had pained her to admit it before, this is exactly what YN had imagined mornings being married to Harry would be like. Lazing in bed with him, before being interrupted by the children and forcing them to begin their day sounding like complete and utter bliss. YN’s could not have been fuller than it was right now, but then she slowly realised that was not the case when the final part of the puzzle walked through the door.

“Good morning, Noah,” YN smiled, holding her hand out to the boy, “Norah was just telling us about her dream, do you wish to join us?”

The boy seemed to hesitate for a second before nodding, reaching out to grab YN’s hand and make his way onto the bed.

“Only for a little while, though,” He nodded with a shrug, “I am ready to break my fast.”

YN laughed, watching as Noah joined Harry and Norah in their conversation. To YN, it was at this moment that she truly felt as though she was a wife. That she was Harry’s wife.

YEAR SIX

Just as YN thought that one part of the puzzle that was her life had been laid to rest, another part reared its head to her.

YN wished for children.

Just as it was with the idea of marriage, in the past, she had been fine with pushing that thought out of her head and coming to terms with the fact that it was just not her fate. When she thought she was to spend her days as nothing more than a governess, the mere thought of children of her own was laughable.

Now that she was a wife, it was no longer laughable – and she wanted more.

YN knew how children were conceived, and she knew that with the amount that YN and Harry had been doing that act, there was a chance that she could be pregnant, and yet (just as it had been before) neither one spoke of it. YN was beginning to be infuriated by it.

“You know,” Harry spoke from the side of her as they lay in his bed, “To read a book, you have to look at the words on the page.”

YN had not even noticed that she had stopped reading the book she had in her hand and instead was staring above the words and at the rest of the room. YN sighed and closed the book, dropping it down with a slight thud on the bedside table next to her.

“I guess I am just not in the mood to read,” YN sighed, slipping down so that her head was on the pillow, and she could bring the covers up and over her body.

“That is not like you,” Harry turned to face her, a slight smirk settling over his features, “Are you in the mood for something else?”  

YN rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, “Of course you would think that. No, Harry, I am just not in the mood to read.”  

“Since when can a book not capture your attention?” He reached over and placed a finger upon her cheek, lighting and tapping the skin so she would turn and face him, “Some may say I can read you like a book… what is wrong?”

YN turned upon her side, slipping her arm underneath her head as she stared at Harry, those eyes of his offering her an ounce of comfort at a time in which her mind was filled with different thoughts.

“Do you ever… do you ever think about having another child? With me?”

Harry went silent, his eyes squinting slightly before he turned away from YN. Her heart dropped and the comfort that had been there immediately disappeared the second that his eyes were not on her.

“I… I do not know,” Harry spoke after a second or so.

YN’s breath caught slightly, “You do not know?”

“I do not know,” Harry slightly tipped his head at her, “I have not ever thought about it.”

YN turned once more so that she was facing the ceiling, not wanting his face to be in her eyeline anymore. Whilst she had spent days, maybe even weeks or possibly months thinking upon this topic, imagining all of the possibilities of how this conversation would take place – she had never allowed herself to think upon this as one of them.

She supposed in part that was her fault – for allowing her thoughts to run away with her without any true evidence.

“I am sorry, I should not have brought the topic up,” YN spoke after a few minutes or so, before deciding that it was probably time to leave it altogether. She quickly pulled the covers off her, “I shall retire to my room tonight, I think.”  

“No,” Harry reached to grab her hand before she could stand up, “You do not have to do that.”

YN shook her head and pulled her hand out of his, “I just wish for a moment alone.”

YN stood up, reaching over for her gown to wrap around her body. She turned and saw Harry still lying in bed, this time with his hand over his face. It did not seem as though he was going to say anything, so she took that as her cue to leave the room.

Just as YN was about to reach for the door handle, Harry stopped her, “I cannot see you go through that.”

YN stopped her movements and turned to face him, “What?”

“I have witnessed first-hand what pregnancy can do to a woman,” Harry sat up, pulling the covers off his body, and moving towards the edge of the bed, “I cannot… I will not let you go through that.”

It all made sense to her now. The reason Harry had never even thought about it. She was ashamed of herself that she had not even thought of it. He had lost his first wife during childbirth, and he was afraid of the same for her.

“Harry…” YN took a step closer to him, watching as his slightly glassy eyes met hers.

“I know that you love the children, you truly do,” Harry spoke, “Are they not enough?”

YN was slightly taken aback by that question, and in turn, she ended up taking a step away from him, “I cannot believe you would say such a thing.”

Harry sighed, his head dropping forward slightly as he rested his hands upon his knees, “I am only saying what is the truth.”

“No, what you are saying is an excuse – what you are saying is nothing more than offensive,” YN shook her head, “I understand your worries, Harry, I truly do but what I cannot understand is you ever saying that Noah and Honorah are not enough for me!”

Harry sighed, his eyes failing to meet hers, “I apologise, YN, I should have never said such things.”

“No,” YN quickly retorted, “You should not have said such things, and yet you have! I only wished to discuss the topic with you Harry and I would never do a thing that you do not wish to do.”

Harry nodded, finally meeting her eyes again, “I understand, I apologise again.”

“We share the love of two beautiful children, Harry,” YN sighed, unable to comprehend why she was even having to explain the love she held for the children, “I apologise for wanting to just share our love in a child of our own.”

Harry gasped, and YN was shocked herself that those words had left her lips. Whilst YN had felt that feeling, love, for Harry for longer than she could put a timeline on – they had never said those words. If the conversation surrounding children had not caused animosity between the two of them, she worried if he did not return the favour that this certainly would. It was their cycle, one that no matter how much they attempted to change – YN feared they never would.

Harry did not say anything, and instead stood up and walked towards her. YN worried as to what it could be that he would say to her, or if he would indeed just walk past her altogether. Instead, he reached for her hands.

“Of course, I wish that we could share… share our love with a child but…” Harry shook his head, “I cannot lose you, YN. I love you too much. I need you too much. I fear, well, I would not be able to go on if anything were to happen to you.”

YN just sighed, taking a step forward to wrap her arms around his waist, her head falling upon his bare chest, “You will not lose me, Harry.”

“You do not know that,” He muttered against her hairline, “You cannot promise me that.”

“I know I cannot,” YN pulled away, looking up at those green eyes of his, “But… your fear, Harry, and whilst I am not diminishing it could also not be the case.”

Harry sighed, “I love you so much, YN.”

“Then, please,” YN rested her hand upon his cheek, “Think about it.”

Harry leaned down, placing the lightest of kisses upon her lips, “For you… I will.”

After quite a struggle, YN had just managed to get the children down and in bed, both of them deciding today was the day that they did not need a bedtime – and that they were both, in fact, too grown up for a bedtime.

Once she had finally managed to wrangle them into their beds, she wanted nothing more than to drop into bed with her husband and sleep the day off. The only problem was when she walked into their bedchamber – he was nowhere to be found.  She set off throughout the house, looking at all of the different spots she usually found him in. It was not until she spotted a light coming from underneath the door to his study that a small smile crossed her face.

The door was slightly ajar, almost as though he had left it slightly open in hopes that she would find him. She stepped into the room and saw him sitting at his desk, with his books open on the desk in front of him. She knew that he had to be busy to still be working.

Harry had his eyes down, resting his head against his hands. He seemed stressed. YN leaned against the door, a small smile crossing her lips as she watched him. 

“If you continue to furrow your eyebrows like that they will stay that way,” YN joked, watching as his eyes lifted to her.

YN watched as the furrow in his eyebrow ceased, and his chest emptied the air that he had been holding in. It was as though all of the stress in his body had dissipated the second that he saw him in the room. She had not seen him all day, and whilst she had missed him – it was evident just by the look on his face now that he had missed her too.

“Forever jesting,” Harry smiled, leaning back in his chair.

YN shrugged, “You married me for a reason.”

“That I did,” Harry sighed. He held his hands out, beckoning her to come closer to him. YN walked towards him, placing her hands in his and accepting his invitation to sit on his lap, “How are the children?”

YN groaned, dropping her head back slightly, “They have decided that they do not need a bedtime anymore. That they are old enough to go to bed whenever they decide it is time.”

Harry’s body shook with laughter slightly, “I fear the older Noah gets, the more difficult he will become.”

“It certainly seems that way,” YN smiled, her fingers threading through those curls at the nape of his neck, “Are you coming to bed anytime soon?”

Harry sighed, pursing his lips slightly, “I can certainly be persuaded to come to bed.”

YN rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Harry’s words, “I should have known that was going to be your motive.”

Harry’s hands found their place on YN’s waist, his thumb itching ever so closer to the swell of her breast, “I do not know what you mean.”

“You have that glint in your eyes,” YN noted, pulling back from him slightly, “The one you have when you are scheming something.”

“No schemes here,” Harry shook his head, holding his arms up in surrender, “It is just if I am not mistaken… the best time of the month.”

YN could not help the pull of her cheeks that his words caused. It was one thing that YN had noticed very quickly about Harry, even more so when their relationship had turned into what it is now – he remembered everything. Everything that YN told him that was of some sort of importance, he remembered. Even if it was not of much importance, just a tiny, small thing that YN had mentioned in passing, he remembered. It was probably one of the things that YN found the most endearing about Harry. 

When YN and Harry had their conversation about children, it had taken him a few weeks to come to terms with her request. She had left him to think about it and assured her that if anything were to happen, he would be prepared. He would make sure the greatest doctors were at their beck and call the second that anything seemed wrong, and he would ensure her safety at every point. With these in mind, he had decided to oblige her request.

But, when YN saw Harry’s smug expression there was a part of her that knew that at this point, he had no qualms with what she had asked.

“Well, then,” YN smiled, “Since it is the best time of the month, shall we retire upstairs?”

“I was thinking that the best course of action was to shut the door,” YN bit her lip, attempting to suppress her smile but it was no use. She immediately clambered off his lap to shut the door to the room that they were in.

When YN turned back around from the door, Harry had moved so that he was leaning against the front of his desk. For a moment, she just stared at him. She was unable to control the wave of desire that rushed over her body just at the sight of him. It was crazy to believe that just over a year ago they had not slept in each other’s bed and that these feelings had not yet reached the surface. Now, YN could not sleep without Harry beside her.

YN attempted to not think of the past, and instead, she was to focus on the future.

YN took light steps towards him, not stopping until she was in between his open legs. It was then that he almost pounced on her. With such rigour, he dropped his lips down to hers so that their faces all but smashed together, but YN did not mind. Her hands grasped the lapels of his jacket, pulling him even closer to her if that was possible.

“YN,” Harry mumbled against her lips, wrapping his arms around her waist until they rested in the small of her back.

It was not long before their hands were pulling the clothes off their bodies piece by piece. Harry was especially skilled at unlacing a corset, something that made their recent penchant for these activities all the easier to complete. There was something about the comfortability with their movements, the ease, that YN had both longed for and never thought would be a possibility. It was now that they knew the ins and outs of each other, they knew what made each other tick more than anyone else in this world.

Their movements quickened in their speed, and Harry’s body fell back slightly. YN ignored the sound of the items that had once lined Harry’s desk falling to the floor. YN would be lying if she said that this had not happened once or twice in this room and that they did not know the logistics of it. She would be lying even more so if she said that they did not know the logistics of most of the rooms in the house.

Harry’s lips slipped from hers and across her cheek, placing light kisses until they reached her neck. Harry was completely, and utterly obsessed with her neck. He always put the most kisses on the skin between her neck and her collarbone, when they were in bed that was where his head was always placed. The one that excited YN the most was always when they were in public, and Harry pushed her hair off her neck. His fingertips would always linger there, and the touch was always ever so light that it would set her skin alight.

It was always tough work to get him off her neck once he was there, but a tug on the curls at the nape of his neck was always enough to pull him off her and elicit the lightest of moans from his lips. His hands moved down and came to rest at the seam of her chemise, pushing the lace up ever so slightly so that his fingers could rest on the skin of her thighs. His fingertips scratched her skin lightly, causing her to moan into his mouth.

YN pulled away from him slightly so that she could help him unfasten his trousers and pull them swiftly down his legs.

“Eager?” He mumbled against her lips again, his hands pushing her chemise up until they were resting upon her waist.

YN shook her head, “Not eager, just fed up with your constant teasing.”

Harry did not reply. Instead, he picked her up and switched their positions. She landed on the desk with a slight thud, eliciting a moan from her lips. Harry wasted no time in slipping his fingers underneath the thin strap of her chemise, allowing it to fall from her shoulder and expose her chest to him. As the material fell, Harry purposefully slowed his movements so that the soft material rubbed against her pert nipples. To her, it was truly as though he knew her exact strings to pull.  

“You are teasing again,” YN mumbled, pulling away from him slightly in hopes that he would stop the teasing. She should have known better.

His hands grasped at her waist, his fingers setting her skin on fire. He pulled her towards the edge of the desk so that his lips could attach to her nipple. YN gasped, her back arching towards Harry’s body.

He pulled away, his chin resting on the exposed skin of her chest, “You knew what I was like when you married me.”

YN shook her head, wrapping her legs around his body to pull him closer to her, “Not in this capacity I did not.”

Harry laughed, placing a kiss on her skin once more before his lips caught her nipple again. His hands ran up the exposed skin of her thigh once more, pushing it all the way up to her waist until she was exposed to him. His eyes locked with hers again, the slight darkness in them causing a shiver to run across YN’s body and pool in the pit of her stomach.

His assault moved downwards until he was face to face with her. He gripped the skin of her thighs, pulling his legs upwards until they were resting upon his shoulders. She bit her lip in an attempt to conceal the illicit sounds that threatened to escape them. There was nothing that could have helped her when his head lurched forward, his mouth attaching to her immediately.

“God, Harry…” Her body fell backwards, her chest rising up and down at a record speed as he continued his movements.

The mix of continuous flicks of his tongue against her clit, mixed with the suction his lips provided brought her closer and closer to the edge within minutes. YN also wondered if there was a part to play in that in how much she had thought about this throughout the day. It was as though she had been shown something, and now her entire thoughts were consumed by it day by day.

With each second she could feel herself getting closer, and her hands found themselves attached to his hair. Her breathing quickened, and her chest rose and fell at an exasperated rate.

Then it stopped.

YN could not help the moan that passed her lips at the loss of contact, tears brimming against her waterline. She watched as Harry wasted no time in lifting his body back up to her, his lips dropping against hers once more.

“You are cruel,” She mumbled against his lips, feeling the smirk that crossed his features, “You are cruel, and you are mean.”

“I am not cruel and mean,” He responded, his hand moving between them to pull himself out. He gave his cock a few strokes before lining himself up with her, “That is just not the purpose of the best time of the month, is it?”

“It could be, but you…” YN’s words were interrupted by Harry pushing himself into her. YN gasped, her nails digging into the skin of his exposed back, “Oh, god!”

The first time that they had sex was the night of the morning they had been interrupted. YN knew that if it was not for the children, it would have probably happened then. They had spent the entire day exchanging what can only be called longing and intoxicating looks at one another. In part, it felt like both pleasure and torture. YN had been slightly nervous, she would not lie, but Harry had made her feel like the most beautiful woman on this earth. He had not rushed her, he had made her feel comfortable the entire time and most importantly, he had reassured her time and time again that they were doing this together. That this was them showing their affection for each other, in a way that two people could.

All of their sex was not like this. More often than not it was sloppy, and it was rushed, and it was in the five minutes spare they had within the day when nobody from the estate or the children wanted them. If it was not rushed, it was often very slow and sleepy – but in a different remark still sloppy.

“Oh, Harry,” YN’s hands ran down his back towards the curve of his bum, where she pressed her hands against the flesh in hopes of pushing him deeper into her.

Harry groaned against her lips, “This is what you wanted, yes? You were wanting me to fill you up?”

“It was,” YN responded, gasping when he hit that particular spot inside of her that caused her to tighten around him. His hips never stopped their assault on her, and she did not want him to. The second that he slipped his hand between their bodies to rub his thumb against her clit, she was right back to where she had been minutes prior.

Harry’s head dropped into the nape of her neck, resting there whilst he continued to move his hips faster and faster against hers. YN had tried her best to match his pace, but she could not. It was as though she could not control her body when she was with him. He knew exactly what she needed, and he would be the one to get her there.

YN’s entire body went rigid, her mouth parting as a string of moans mixed with calls of Harry’s name left her lips as she orgasmed, Harry’s following just after hers. Their chest, pressed close to one another, were heaving in sync, their breaths ragged but smiles still dancing across both of their lips.

Harry pulled out of her gently and helped her clean herself up, pulling her chemise back on so it was not revealing her in such a promiscuous way. YN laughed, accepting a kiss from Harry when he offered her a hand to help her off the table.

“Do you think it worked this time?” YN asked, wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck.

“We can hope,” Harry nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “But we will not be disheartened if it has not, yes?”

“Yes,” YN nodded, saying the words as though she was trying to convince herself that they were true.

“Let us go to bed,” Harry nodded, reaching his hand out for her.

YN laughed, “We must dress first, imagine if we are to pass any of the staff in this state!”

“They have seen much worse. Now…” Harry dropped down, wrapping his arm around her legs and hoisted her up into his arms, “Let us go to bed… we can tidy in the morning.”

YN just laughed, allowing him to carry her to their room.

YN had been sitting on a blanket in the garden with Noah and Norah when it happened.

When she awoke that morning, she had certainly felt strange. YN had attempted to ignore it, to push the feeling so far down that it would not affect her day. There were things in life that YN could face head-on, with no worries about the consequences. This was something that she could not do. This broke her heart.

YN had smiled at the maid that was in the garden with them, giving her a look to instruct her to look after the children whilst she rushed inside.

She had stripped herself of her ruined clothes as quickly as she could, ordered a bath to be drawn and sunk into the water without a second thought.

They had tried and tried to conceive a child, but it seemed that no matter their efforts (which were frequent) it did not seem to stick. It was heartbreaking every time that this happened, and yet she could not control anything that happened. YN knew that she was older, but she had heard of women having children even older than her before. She just did not understand why nothing seemed to stick for her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. Harry walked in with a smile on his face, “Miss Harding told me you were in here. It is not like you to have a midday bath.”

YN looked at Harry and at those kind eyes that were staring into hers, and she broke down. The sobs that left her lips were loud, and they shook her entire body. He immediately rushed over to her, kneeling by the tub so that he could wrap his arms around body, trying to soothe the sobs that were wracking through her body.

It was at that point that he noticed her discarded clothes, and the stain upon them told him everything that he needed to know.

“Oh, YN…” Harry’s lips skimmed the top of her head, the realisation and seeing her in such pain stabbed at his chest also, “I am so sorry.”

YN shook her head, leaning against his shoulder, “There is no need for you to apologise, Harry. It is not your fault… I just… I am finding it more and more difficult to deal with the disappointment time and time again.”

Harry sighed, his lips placing a light kiss on her hairline before he pulled away, “Move forward, slightly.”

YN nodded, bringing her legs closer to her chest, and moving forward slightly, She watched as Harry stripped from his clothes, dropping them on a pile by the end of the tub and allowed his body to slip into the water behind her. YN immediately relaxed into Harry’s arms, the feeling of his arms around her body offering the comfort that she needed at that time.

“I do not wish to offend you with this, my love, but…” YN dropped her head back on his shoulder, placing her hands upon his that sat on the soft skin of his thighs, “Do you think that we should stop our endeavours?”

YN pulled away to look at him, “You wish to stop having sex with me?”

“No!” Harry’s eyes immediately widened, “No, God no. I do not wish for that, at all. I just mean that… YN I cannot see you go through this month by month. I just thought that we could, stop putting such a pressure on our actions.”

YN let out a sigh of relief and dropped back down next to him, “Oh… I suppose you may be right.”

“I thought you should know by now that it is often not the case that I am not,” Harry jested from behind her, his nose nudging her cheek.

“I think you are mistaken by that,” YN retorted, shaking her head, “I am more often the one that is right, and you know it.”

“So I do,” Harry lifted his hand from the water to tap her cheek, turning her head so that their lips were inches away from each other, “I just think that if we possibly put a little less pressure on ourselves, then you would hurt less.”

As much as YN would hate to admit it again, Harry’s word did hold some truth. Whilst Harry had never put any sort of pressure upon her, she was unable to say that she did not do the same for herself. It was more often than not she found herself worrying if it was her that was the cause of the problems. Harry had two beautiful children already, and yet the only difference between then and now was YN – and that therefore meant that she had to be the problem which was occurring.

“I think that is the best course of action,” YN nodded, dropping her head forward so that her forehead rested against his.

It was not long before he leant forward and placed his lips against hers. The kiss was soft, and light and the only word that YN could use to describe it was loving. It was as though no matter what mood YN found herself in or what was possibly going on in her head – the only thing that ever brought her out of such was him.

Harry’s hand lifted to rest against her cheek, resting against the soft skin and in part brushing all of the worry out of her body. It was a shock to her at what his touch did to her. She never, ever wanted it to end. She was the one to pull away first, placing her head against his shoulder again.

“We shall take the pressure off,” YN nodded, “And wait to see what happens.” “It will happen when the time is right,” Harry placed his head against hers, “And we should not worry ourselves until that time.”

YEAR SEVEN

From the last time that YN felt strange, this one was different.

The feeling itself was nothing that YN would say was significant – but it was there. She waited for the moment that her courses would come and prove to her that whatever she was feeling was just the prerequisite to that – and yet it never did.

YN tried not to worry herself, or to let her mind spiral but it was often difficult not to. It was as though there were some things that her mind just had to run free with. She did not tell Harry of her thoughts, as she did not want to worry him or to let him get his hopes up for something which could not be true just yet. That it could once again just be her mind playing tricks on her.

That was until, a month or so after her courses should have arrived that she started to feel waves of nausea race over her.

That was when her suspicions grew more into what she would deem to be facts. Her missed courses, the nausea, her constant state of fatigue and the fact that foods that she had once loved turned her stomach in ways that she could not express.

These feelings, which had been slight at first soon grew into something that she could not hide.

It was just a random Thursday that she had woken up and felt quite unwell, and whilst she had truly tried to get up and get herself ready for the day – she just could not.

The only way in which YN’s stomach did not churn uncontrollably was if she was laid down. That is how she found herself, on a lounger by the window in the drawing room. Her arm was covering her eyes, and she was focusing on nothing but her breathing – that was the only way in which to settle her stomach.

Even when she heard the door open, and Harry walked into the room – YN could not muster the energy to lift her arm and greet him. She could hear him talking to her, and yet her ears could not focus on the words that he was saying.

It was not until he dropped himself on the edge of the lounger she was laid on was it that she finally turned to greet him, but it was certainly not the greeting he was possibly expecting.

“Why do you smell like that?”

Harry chuckled, “Did you not hear me saying that I had just returned from my morning ride?”

“No,” YN shook her head, her features grimacing, “If I had, I would not be asking you why you smell like that.”  

“It is nice to know that you listen to me,” Harry jested, leaning forward to place either one of his arms around her body. He leant forward in hopes that she would return the favour, and yet she did not. She placed her hand on his chest and pushed him away from her.

“You… The smell…” YN placed her hand over her mouth, pushing Harry out of the way so that she could reach the chamber pot she had left at the side of her on the lounger.

Harry dropped down next to her, pulling her hair back from around her face. He was confused, and even more so when he reached out to wrap his arm around her body and she pushed him away once again.

“Do not come near me,” She held her hand out, instructing him to stay where he was, “You smell horrid.”

“Are you ill?” Harry ignored her orders, “Do I need to fetch a doctor?”

YN shook her head, leaning back against the lounger, “That is not necessary.”

“YN, you must tell me if you are ill,” YN sighed at his words, her annoyance growing by the second, “I cannot bear to see you in pain.”

YN raised her hand to cover her eyes once more, “I am not ill in the way that you think.”

“Then what is it?”

YN tried to swallow the feeling that was bubbling within her, but she could not, “Is there no way that you could change, or maybe even wash before we have this conversation?”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “YN tell me what it is right now.”

YN sighed, turning to meet his eyes despite her stomach’s protests, “I have… evidence to believe that I am with child.”

Harry’s eyes widened as he looked upon her, “What?”

“Did you not hear me?” YN did not mean to snap, but she could not lie and say that her patience was not wearing thin with him, “I said that I believe I am with child.”

“I heard what you said, I just…” Then, his face broke out into a smile, “It is just that I am slightly in shock, but I cannot say not overjoyed by the news – and possibly a little apprehensive.”

Harry attempted to move closer to her, but she pushed him back once more.

“Harry, I wish nothing more than to hug you and kiss you right now to celebrate but I fear if you come any closer to me you might receive something else entirely.”

Harry finally understood what it was that she was saying to him. He stood up and immediately started to unbutton his coat and his shirt. He removed his suspenders, and his trousers came next until he was stood in nothing but his underwear in front of her.

“Would this suffice?” He held his arms open in front of her.

YN laughed, “You will have to come closer for me to make my decision.”

Harry laughed as he dropped back down beside her, wrapping his arms around his wife. He lifted her with such care and ease until she was upon his lap. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“We are having a baby?” He smiled, immediately leaning forward to capture her lips with his, “I cannot quite believe it.”

“Well, I cannot say for certain, but I do think that it is highly likely,” YN nodded, accepting the light kisses he was giving her through her words.

Sighing, YN pursed her lips in an attempt to keep her feelings down. Without his clothes on was certainly much better, but the smell was still lingering around him, and going straight towards her stomach.  

“Harry, I am sorry, but you need to bathe,” YN pushed herself up and off his lap, “I cannot be around you until you do.”

“I thought you vowed to love me – smell and all?” He pouted, still making no movements to stand up.

YN shook her head, “That was before such a smell did this to me. Please, freshen up and then we can continue our conversation.”

Harry just nodded, pushing himself up until he was standing, “I shall wash straight away.”

“I need to leave this room,” YN shook her head, walking towards the door, “Can you open the windows before you leave to air it out?”

Harry laughed but did as his wife wished. His wife that was indeed carrying their child.

“I must say, it’s been too long since you have been in my shop, YN,” Miss Francis spoke, passing her friend who sat on the settee in her shop a cup of tea, “I might have to come and have words with that husband of yours to let you free every once in a while.”

YN chuckled, “You should have seen him this morning. I said that I needed to come and see you and he was readying himself to join us.”

Miss Francis gasped and shook her head, dropping down on the settee with her cup of tea in her hand also.

As much as YN hated to admit it – she had slightly neglected Miss Francis and her friendship since she was married. She, of course, saw her whenever she needed a dressmaking or something altered – but they both knew that was not good enough. Miss Francis had been there with her through thick and thin, and she hated that it had let it get this bad.  

“Well, if I was worried about whether or not he loved you – I’m certainly not worried about that now,” Miss Francis offered the younger girl a smile, but that dropped once she saw the expression on YN’s face, “What is that face for? Are you… is everything okay?”

YN offered Miss Francis a small smile and placed the cup down on the table in front of them. She turned and reached over to grab the older woman’s hand.

“I need to apologise to you, Miss Francis,” YN spoke, squeezing Miss Francis’ hand.

Miss Francis furrowed her eyebrows, placing her cup down, “Whatever for, my dear?”

YN sighed, “For getting married, and not coming to visit you as often. It was despicable of me, and I cannot tell you how sorry I am.”

Miss Francis laughed with a shake of her head, “You do not need to apologise to me, silly girl. You were a newlywed; I am just your modiste – there is no reason to apologise for not coming to see me without a need for it.”

“No,” YN shook her head, “Miss Francis, you are not just a modiste to me. You are my friend I would say that you are my best friend. You encouraged me to marry, you held my hand the morning of my wedding. You gave me your family’s jewels to wear at the ball. And I… well I handled the changes in my life poorly when it came to you. I therefore need to apologise to you.”

When YN looked back up at Miss Francis, her heart broke at the sight of her watery eyes. She had never felt disappointment in herself like this before, and she was angry. She was angry at herself for abandoning this woman.

“YN,” Miss Francis shook her head, “All of that does not matter to me. I was happy just knowing that you were happy.”

“I am happy,” YN nodded, “And I promise you that I will never let it get to this again. I will come to see you as much as I can until… well…”

Miss Francis furrowed her eyebrows, reaching forward to pick up a biscuit, “Until what?”

YN pursed her lips in an attempt to hold back her smile, and yet she could not do it. This had been the real reason that YN had wanted to come and make amends for the guilt that she had been feeling. When she had finally come to terms with the fact that she was pregnant a few days ago, the first person (besides Harry) that she had wanted to tell was Miss Francis. She had wanted to tell her straight away, but it had taken her a few days for the nausea to not be so bad, and in fact for her to be able to get up and ready and even contemplate leaving the house. Harry had not left her alone these past few days, doing everything that he could to make her comfortable. That was why when she had felt fine this morning and had asked Harry to make sure the carriage was ready to take her into town – Harry had tried and tried to get her to allow him to come with her.

It had taken YN explaining to Harry the reason behind the visit, and how she needed to do this on her own for Harry to finally let her go without him. It was under the stipulation that she would go there and come straight back, and if she started to feel ill at any point she had to return immediately. YN, not wanting to upset him anymore nodded and accepted the stipulations with a light kiss to his lips. Any of the turning in her stomach that she felt today was more the nerves of the conversation she was going to have – rather than a cause of the baby.

“Let us just say that… life might be turned around once more in eight months.”

Miss Francis gasped, dropping the biscuit she had in her hand onto her lap and leaning over to wrap her arms around the younger woman. YN laughed, swaying with Miss Francis as they embraced.

“Oh, YN,” Miss Francis pulled away, the tears in her waterline now ones of joy, “I am so happy for you, darling.”

YN had her own tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks. Another part of this which she had not expected to experience as well as the nausea was the up and down of her emotions. Harry, who probably had prior knowledge of this, had taken her constant changes of mood like a champ thankfully. YN, however, was struggling slightly with the changes.

“I wanted to tell you,” YN nodded, “I needed to tell you. I need you to be with me throughout this.”

“Of course, I will, darling,” Miss Francis smiled, running her hand across YN’s cheek, “I will be here for anything that you need.”

“Thank you,” YN nodded.

It was then that Miss Francis sprung up into action, walking over to the trunk where YN had brought some of her dresses with her. YN knew better than to interrupt Miss Francis when she was working, so instead she stood up and allowed the older woman to boss her around the way she needed her to.

“I did wonder when you showed up with the trunk what was happening,” Miss Francis spoke pulling the dresses out, “I should have known.”

“It is just the ones that I think with a bit of altering should have some give,” YN nodded, allowing the older woman to hold the dress up to her body, “Harry said I should have some new ones made but I do not see the need.”

“You might have to, YN,” Miss Francis explains, “Depending on how much altering I can do to these dresses.”

“Well,” YN offers Miss Francis a smile, “You have never been one to turn down a challenge.”

“That I have not,” Miss Francis laughs, “Now, you have to tell me everything. How did you tell Mr Styles?

“It is not quite the story you imagine it to be, I am afraid,” Then the two women broke out into a fit of giggles and it was as though nothing had happened between them at all.

Nathaniel Styles entered the world a mere eight months later.

Eight months of what some might conclude as torture, but others may count as bliss. YN had realised that her pregnancy would be a mixture of the two. She possibly should have realised when the first few months of her pregnancy were torture that she was not necessarily going to have the easiest pregnancy. It had been easy to realise that this experience was beautiful, and YN would not have changed it for the world – it was also difficult for her.

It had also taken a toll on Harry. He had already been particularly attentive before her pregnancy, but it seemed as though it was even more so when she got pregnant. She should have known the way that he acted when she had first told him that she was pregnant and that he was going to be that way. If she thought that Harry was bad before, the closer they were to welcoming their bundle of joy into the world – the more that he would not leave her alone at all. He was there, always in the room with her and ready to be there if anything happened. YN, whilst she may not have said so during time, was thankful for him.

By the time that YN had realised she was in labour, there had been no time to do anything. If Harry had not devoted himself to being close to her at all times (especially during the latter part of the pregnancy) then she would have worried about him missing the birth.

It was slightly scary the speed at which her labour progressed, there was not even any time to call for a doctor, or even Harry’s mother or Miss Francis. She had to rely upon Harry and the maids that were at hand in the house.

Whilst Harry had tried his very hardest to not make it obvious that he was worried, YN knew him too well and knew that he was. The speed at which her labour was progressing was the thing that worried him more than anything. It was as though he had kept worrying about something going wrong, and yet nothing ever seemed to.

It was in the mid-afternoon when their baby boy made his way into the world, making their two other children siblings once more.

Harry had not put Nathaniel down since he had made his entrance into the world. One of the first things that caused YN to fall in love with Harry was the love and care that he had for his children, and now that they had one of their own – that had certainly not changed. YN had been resting in the bed, unable to take her eyes off her husband sitting on the lounger next to the window, with their baby boy placed on his chest. Nathaniel was sleeping soundly against his father’s chest, obviously finding the comfort he needed in the skin-to-skin contact.

There was not a single sound in the room apart from a babble from Nathaniel now and then, until there was a knock at the door. YN’s face broke into a smile when she saw Anne, Harry’s mother peering her head into the room.

Anne held a similar smile on her face, “Are you up for any visitors?”

“Of course, I am,” YN beamed, any ounce of fatigue immediately dissipating from her body. She watched as Noah and Norah walked into the room, both of them rushing around the bed and towards her.

“Is that him? My baby brother?” Noah pointed to the baby bundled against Harry’s chest, his face beaming out into a smile.

“It is,” YN smiled, her head dropping against her shoulder as she watched the two older children walk closer to their new sibling.

It was not often that YN would say that she saw the two of them nervous. They were such confident children; it was so out of character for them. There was nothing in this world that scared them, and yet for some reason, they both seemed that way about meeting their new brother. As the children inched closer to their father, YN felt the bed dip at the side of her. She smiled as she saw Anne sitting there, immediately reaching out to grab YN’s hand.

“How are you feeling?” Anne asked, pushing some of YN’s hair out of her face slightly.

YN smiled, accepting the woman’s comforting touch, “Tired, but I am well. It all seemed to happen very quickly.”

“Harry’s birth was just the same,” Anne smiled, “If you need anything, do not be afraid to ask.”

YN smiled, “Thank you.”

Both of the women’s attention immediately turned to Harry, who was instructing Noah on how best to sit to hold his brother in his arms. The eldest boy’s eyes were wide, and he was listening to every word from his father’s mouth as he spoke.

“Keep your arms together, just like that,” Noah nodded, watching as his father moved Nathaniel from his arms and placed him down in his sons. His face broke into a smile once the little boy was safe and secure in his arms.

“He’s so small,” Noah commented, his eyes wide as he looked up to YN for just a second until they dropped back down to his brother.

“Well,” Harry sighed, reaching over to run the back of his finger across the expanse of Nathaniel’s small cheek, “You both were once this small.”

“Really?” Norah’s eyes lit up, “But you always say that I am your big girl.”

Harry nodded, suppressing a chuckle slightly before he reached his arm out to wrap around his daughter’s body, pulling her into the side of him, “You are my big girl, but you were once my small girl too, but you will always be my baby.”

Norah smiled, accepting the kiss that Harry placed on her cheek. It was very quickly that (just as her brother’s) Norah’s attention was placed upon her little brother, who had interrupted his sleep once again to let out a small whine before falling straight back into a slumber.

“Look at that,” YN smiled, “He feels safe with his big brother.”

Noah smiled once more before it was replaced with one of concern when Nathaniel broke out into tears, his little face turning red and his eyebrows furrowing. Noah’s eyes widened, looking between Harry and YN with a panic-stricken face.

“It is okay, bud,” Harry chuckled slightly, an amused glint in his eyes as they met YN’s, “He must be hungry.”

YN and Anne both chuckled from their place on the bed, watching as Noah angled his arms towards Harry slightly so that he could take his brother off him.

“I think that is our cue to leave,” Anne smiled, squeezing YN’s hand one last before climbing off the bed, “I am sure that there’s some trouble that we can get up to.”

YN smiled, opening her arms wide so that both Noah and Norah could come and hug her and kiss her before they left. Norah had a pouting face as she came over to YN. The older woman attempted to wipe it off her face, but she could not.

“And what is with that face, Norah?” YN teased, running her finger across the girl’s cheek lightly.

She pouted one more time, “I did not get to hold Nathaniel.”

YN smiled, placing a kiss on the younger girl’s cheek, “Your time will come, Norah, I promise. But he’s small now and needs me to feed him but I promise that once he has a full stomach – you will be the first to hold him.”

Norah sighed but alas nodded her head, “I suppose I can live with that.”

“I suppose you can,” YN smiled, “Now go, I’m sure Nana has plenty of things planned for you in the meantime.”

The children both nodded, accepting their Nana’s outstretched hands and walked out of the room. Both Harry and YN watched as the door closed behind them, a smile passing between them as it did. YN pulled herself up slightly so that she was in a sitting position, and smiled as Harry dropped down next to her, passing her Nathaniel as he did.

YN smiled at Nathaniel, and even though his little face was still red and scrunched with tears, YN would not change it for the world. Harry helped in pulling her nightgown down of herself, the act itself being sort of difficult with little Nathaniel in her arms. She sighed slightly as Nathaniel attached to her nipple, her body falling into Harry’s embrace as he wrapped his arm around YN’s shoulder, her head dropping down to his.

It was as though the second that Nathaniel had latched on, his face relaxed and peace was restored throughout his body. His eyes were wide, never leaving his parents faces as he began to eat. It was a beautiful moment, a moment that YN would never forget.

Harry sighed, lifting his free hand up to run his finger across Nathaniel’s cheek again, “He’s got your nose.”

YN chuckled slightly, trying her hardest not to shake too much and disturb the little boy pressed against her chest, “He does… it is no wonder I had so much heartburn with all of that hair – that’s certainly taking after you.”

Harry is the one who chuckles this time, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of YN’s head, “I hope he has your eyes.”

YN shook her head, turning so that she was facing Harry, “I want him to have your eyes.”

Harry smiled, leaning forward to place his forehead against YN’s. Harry’s eyes were one of the first things that YN noticed about him, and they will always be one of her favourite things about him. People always say that home is not a house, and instead can be found in a person. That was more obvious to her when she met Harry, and even more so when she looked into those green eyes of his. Those eyes, especially when they looked at her made her feel more at home than anything in this world. They were her comfort, her love, and more importantly, her home.

“Are you sure that you want him to have my eyes?” Harry questioned, pulling away slightly to look at her, “Because we both know we will not be able to say no to him.”

YN laughs before shaking her head, “I have no trouble saying no to you.”

“That is true,” Harry nods, “I suppose it shall be me that struggles to say no. I will compromise with the next one having your eyes.”

YN chuckled, “The next one?”

“Of course,” Harry sighed, “If you would want that.”

After sharing a slight chuckle between the two of them, they both turned to look at their son, who was becoming drowsier by the second. They decided that now was probably the best time to burp and place him down for a nap. Harry placed a cloth over his shoulder and carefully removed Nathaniel out of YN’s arms again, picking him up and placing him upon his shoulder.

YN watched with a smile as Harry started to walk around the room, gently rubbing Nathaniel’s back in hopes that it would coax a burp out of him. There was something so beautiful about the sight in front of her The fact that seven years ago YN had thought that marriage was out of the picture for her, and here she was now with a husband she could not love any more than she did and three beautiful children.

It was not long before Nathaniel let out the perfect burp, and his eyes began to close once more. He, so far, was the perfect baby. YN could not be luckier, and she also could not be luckier with the man she was raising him with.

“That’s it, baby boy,” YN watched as Harry swaddled the baby with a blanket, dropping him down lightly in the bassinet at the side of the bed.

There was a sigh from Nathaniel, and then not a single peep from him. Harry sighed, dropping back down on the bed next to YN, pulling her closer to him so she was resting her head on his chest. YN sighed into his body, dropping her hand upon his chest.

“Thank you,” YN mumbled, lifting her hand so that she was looking at him, “For everything.”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “Thank you.”

[aynavaano]

Tell me you want me

Hunter x f!reader

Rating: Explicit/NSFW

Wordcount: 3.5k

Summary:

You’re part of Clone Force 99 since a while and have an eye on your Sarge ever since you joined. When you are left alone with him skinny dipping in natural hot springs, things get steamy.

Notes:

Enjoy this little Hunterxf!reader smutlet while we all anxiously wait for the final episode to drop. Reader is part of the squad, she is their medic and has a nickname. All other Batchers make an appearance too. We have fingering and unprotected sex. All happening in the water.

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape, you and the squad finally retreat back into the Marauder, weary from another grueling day of repairs after your crash landing a few rotations ago. Dropping your tools with a clatter in the corner, you sink down onto the floor, feeling the exhaustion seep into your bones. The day's work has left you covered in a film of sweat and grime, your skin sticky with oil and dust, again.

"If I have to endure one more shower with that recycled water, I swear..." you mutter under your breath, frustration lacing your words. Despite the pressing need to fill up your rations and change the water in the Marauders system or at least the filters, there was no way off this kriffing rock before you got the ship back up and running. The overly recycled water, depleted and stale, left you feeling far worse than without a shower since the last days.

Suddenly, Tech's voice cuts through the exhaustion, his tone matter-of-fact as he suggests an alternative. "There are geothermal hot springs just a couple of clicks south from here, they are perfectly safe to utilize for personal hygiene," he remarks, drawing everyone's attention.

Wrecker's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "So that's where you've been sneaking off to in the evenings," he says, earning a knowing nod from Tech.

"Why didn't you mention THAT before?" you inquire, taken aback by the revelation. Tech shrugs nonchalantly.

"Nobody asked me and you all seemed content with the ship's refresher,besides I didn’t sneak off I just went there, " he replies simply, earning an eye-roll from Crosshair and a sigh from Hunter.

"Well, looks like we're all going tonight," Hunter declares, scanning the room as everyone nods eagerly. However, Tech interjects with an apologetic tone.

"Except for Echo. I'm sorry, but the mineral composition of the water isn't compatible with your mechanical parts." Echo sighs resignedly.

"Well, Someone has to watch the ship anyway," he remarks, grabbing a ration bar before retreating to the cockpit.

Watching him leave, Hunter urges everyone else to gather their essentials as you prepare for the trip to the hot springs.

Following Tech's lead, you traverse through a dense thicket of trees and across a rugged terrain, the distant plumes of steam already signaling the promise of warm, rejuvenating waters.

When you finally arrive at the steaming natural pools, happiness surges through your veins, eager to immerse yourself in the warm, relaxing waters. You swiftly cast your bag aside and quickly shed your clothes, opting for a skinny dip - a necessity, given that swimwear isn’t something provided by the GAR. But the night is dark enough to conceal your naked body, the dense steam rising from the water further obscuring any view.

As the squad's medic, you've seen them in various states of undress during countless check-ups or emergencies, but you've managed to maintain your own privacy, determined not to stir up any trouble within the group. However, you can’t deny that you have a weak spot for your Sergeant ever since you joined them and enjoyed patching him up a bit too much.

The sound of water splashing nearby interrupts your thoughts, and you turn to see Wrecker paddling around eagerly. "Come on in Mini, it's amazing. We won't peek, I promise," he assures you with a boisterous grin. You chuckle at the affectionate nickname he gave you a while ago, and the others quickly adopted, not wrongly, given that you are barely more than half his size.

With a contented sigh, you lower yourself into the soothing embrace of the hot spring, feeling the tension melt away from your weary muscles. The clean, refreshing sensation of the water provides a stark contrast to the sticky residue left behind by the Marauder's recycled water and it feels incredibly good to finally get rid of it.

Occasionally, a gentle breeze disperses the swirling steam, offering you fleeting glimpses of your crew mates. Your gaze lingers on Hunter, captivated by the droplets cascading from his tousled hair, now freed from his bandana. You trace the lines of his tattoo down over his broad chest as they disappear beneath the surface of the dark water. Despite your best efforts to remain discreet, you find yourself locked in a momentary exchange of gazes with Crosshair, his piercing eyes betraying a knowing awareness.

Your breath catches in your throat as Crosshair maintains his gaze, his lips curling into a sly grin. Wrecker interjects, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Cut it out, Crosshair. You're making her uncomfortable. We promised not to look," he scolds, casting a wary glance in your direction.

“You did” Crosshair hisses at Wrecker before turning his attention back to you, his tone teasing. "Like what you see, Mini?" he quips, his confidence evident, that smug bastard you think to yourself and attempt to muster a confident response in return, but the slight tremor in your voice is betraying you. "Nothing I haven't seen while patching you all up," you retort, hoping to deflect his attention.

“Sure” he groans with a mischievous glint in his eyes but thankfully, he decides to let the matter drop, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief, sinking deeper into the warm embrace of the water, trying to hide your reddened cheeks. Casting a fleeting glance skyward, you marvel at the sight of two moons ascending over the horizon, casting a serene silvery blue glow over the landscape.

Before long, Tech emerges from the water, signaling for the group to prepare to depart. You, however, are reluctant to leave the comforting embrace of the hot springs just yet.

"Already? Can't we stay a bit longer?" you plead, attempting to negotiate for more time.

"It was ample time to get clean," Tech responds, his tone firm. "And we have another full day of repairs before we can leave this planet. You need at least seven standard hours of sleep to—"

You cut him off, feeling frustration bubbling up. "Stop it, Tech," you interject firmly, your disappointment evident.

"I'm only concerned for your well-being," Tech counters, his concern genuine.

"I know, I'm sorry," you answer, softening your tone. "I didn't mean to sound so annoyed. It's just... I can't remember the last time we had something like this. I'd like to soak in the warm water a bit longer. My whole body is sore from our crash, and this feels so good," you explain, hoping to convey your genuine need for relaxation.

Tech hesitates. “I understand, but it’s too dangerous to leave you here alone, besides the way back to the Marauder is …”.

"It's okay, Tech. You go. I'll stay here with her," a voice rings through the thick steam from behind you.

Hunter.

Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected offer, a rush of warmth flooding through you at the thought of him and you being here alone.

It takes a moment for the rest of them to processes his proposition. Finally, Tech breaks the silence "That is an acceptable solution," he states, his usual pragmatic tone cutting through the night.

Relieved you allow yourself to sink back into the soothing warmth of the hot springs, the steam enveloping you like a comforting embrace. In the background, you hear the others bustling about, dressing and gathering their belongings. Amidst the activity, you catch snatches of conversation and you could swear you heard Wrecker grumbling that he also wants to stay, interrupted by a sharp retort from Crosshair.

"Alright," Tech announces, drawing your attention. "We're heading back. I'll leave the comm open in case of unforeseen events. Regardless, please remember it is not recommended to stay longer than two standard hours in water with this temperature" and with that, the group begins their trek back to the Marauder, leaving you and Hunter alone in the quiet of the night.

As the sounds of their footsteps fade into the distance, a slightly uncomfortable silence descends, punctuated only by the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. It’s not the first time you’re alone with Hunter, but THIS, this is different and you are trying to control your heartbeat knowing very well that he can pick that up with his heightened senses.

“Thank you for staying with me Hunter” you whisper through the thick steam wafting over the pool. The thought of him naked in the water, just a few steps away from you sends a shiver through your whole body and you feel the heat pooling between your legs.

Stars, stay calm you try to control the visions overtaking you, flashes of his naked body and his hands all over you flickering through your mind.

You try to catch another glimpse at him past the billowing steam and through an opening you see him slowly treading through the water towards you, his eyes locking on yours, a look of concern on his face. The water reaches barely up to his lower stomach, exposing an ungodly amount of his luscious body, his caramel skin, toned chest and a tempting trail of hair running down his abdomen now illuminated by the silvery glow of the moons, you can’t break your gaze away but you are close to loosing control completely now.

“For someone happily relaxing in a hot bath your heart rate is concerningly high. Are you uncomfortable? Did you change your mind, do you want me to take you back to the Marauder?”

“No, I…I want to stay” is all you can stumble. Him being so concerned and caring is only adding fuel to the fire already burning inside you.

Hunter is right before you now, scanning your face for any signs of distress but the only thing he finds is your bright pink cheeks and dilated pupils.

He carefully brushes a loose strand of your hair from your face, his hand lingering a bit too long to go unnoticed.

“Is this because of me?” he whispers softly, a hint of trepidation in his voice. He lost count of how often he wanted to ask you this, when he felt your heart jump at his touch, when he sensed your eyes lingering on him, but he didn’t dare, knowing a no would destroy him. So he decided to remain oblivious instead of getting hurt. Until now.

You gaze up at him and there is no denying anymore, no hiding, so you nod, not able to voice what you feel for him. That you want him so badly.

And before you know whats happening his lips are on yours. His kiss is soft but quickly getting hungrier and messier. He pulls you closer to him sliding one arm around your waist and you intuitively wrap your legs around him feeling his already hardening cock pressing against your core.

He gasps at the sensation of you grinding your hips against him and breaks away from the kiss, looking deep into your eyes.

“Tell me you want this," Hunter's voice is a low, urgent whisper, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me you want me."

You lean back in to kiss him, desperate for his lips on yours and hungry for more but he breaks away again, searching your face for an answer.

“I’m your Sarge, I don’t want to take advantage of you, I need to hear you say it. Say you want me and I’ll give you everything.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his intense gaze. "I do, Hunter," you reply without hesitation, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want nothing more than you."

Before you can even finish your words, he pulls you closer again, his arms wrapping around you possessively. The warmth of his embrace fueling your hunger for him and when his lips crash against yours in another searing kiss, you melt into him completely, his tongue trailing along your lips pleating for access.

Your tongues entwine and Hunter's touch feeds the fire within you, every caress sending sparks of heat coursing through your veins. You feel his hands hungrily roaming over your body, down your chest, gently cupping your breasts, leaving a trail of longing wherever they touch you.

His hands slide down to your hips, one hand cupping your ass, pulling you closer as his lips trail down your neck, leaving a line of open mouthes kisses and soft bites in their wake. With each movement, you feel yourself melting into him, your body craving more of his touch and your pussy aching desperately for his attention.

"Stars, you feel amazing," Hunter murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "I've been wanting this for so long."

A soft moan escapes your lips at his words, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water around you. You feel his fingers trailing down to your throbbing core and you can't help but arch into his touch, desperately yearning for more.

He carefully slides his fingers between your slick folds, teasing your clit with a slow gentle rhythm that leaves you gasping for breath. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, quickly building a tension that threatens to unravel you completely in his arms.

He keeps you steady, his strong arms easily holding you up, the water flowing around you, fingers trailing through your slit and finally with a slow, deliberate motion, he slides one finger inside you, giving you a taste of what you so desperately want. You gasp at the sensation of him entering you and arch into his hand, aching for more friction.

"Stars, you're so wet for me," Hunter whispers, his voice low and breathless.

You can't help but beg for more, craving the sensation of him deep inside you, filling you up completely. And as he picks up the pace and slides in another finger, you feel your body tightening, getting ready to explode with pleasure.

"Kriff, I love how responsive you are to my touch." he whispers in your ear, nibbling on your neck.

You let out a few lewd moans and gasps at his words, the sensation of his fingers driving you completely crazy. With each thrust, you feel yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable in its intensity. The tension in your core almost reaching it’s snapping point, two fingers pushing inside you and his thumb rubbing your clit.

And then, with a flick of his wrist, Hunter finds that perfect spot that sends you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Waves of ecstasy wash over you, rippling through your whole body, leaving you trembling in the wake of your orgasm as you cling to him for support.

“Stars, do you know how beautiful you look cuming all over my fingers?” he moans against your skin, looking at you as if you’re the most precious thing in the galaxy.

He slowly slides his fingers out of you to steady you against his chest while you catch your breath. You let out a low whine when he slips out of your core, leaving you feeling empty, and immediately desperate for more. You fumble around trying to reach his cock but he firmly holds you up, both hands under your thighs, his face buried between your breasts.

“Hungry, are we?” he grins up at you, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth and sliding his fingers over your wet folds aching to be stretched again, drawing a couple of lewd sounds from you.

You tilt your head back when he captures your other nipple between his teeth and finally pulls you closer until you're straddling him in the water, your bodies pressed together in a heated embrace. You feel the pressure of his rock hard cock straining against your core, fueling your hunger for him even more.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice barely above a breathless moan, impatiently wiggling around in his arms to line him up at your entrance. When he carefully bites down on your neck, leaving a mark, while squeezing your breast with one hand, you are completely loosing any kind of self control, you might as well just beg.

"Hunter, kriff…please…fuck me"

He looks up finding your gaze and without a word, he guides himself inside you with a single deep thrust, his huge cock stretching you in all the right ways as he fills you completely. You gasp at the sensation of your pussy stretching around him, your body arching into his as he begins to move, each thrust giving you more of what you’ve been longing for ever since you joined the squad. He starts slowly, not far from teasing you, pulling out almost completely a few times, until only his tip rest inside you and then slamming back in until he is buried to the hilt.

The water around you amplifies every sensation, the gentle rocking motion only adding to the intensity of his thrusts. He increases his pace and with each push of his hips against yours, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak, your pussy already clenching around him.

“Fuck, not gonna last long like this” he groans “ …y..you feel too good around my cock…so tight…been dreaming about this too often…”

"I'm close," you whimper, your voice barely above a desperate plea. "Please, Hunter, don't stop."

With a low growl against your neck, he increases the intensity, each thrust pushing you further towards the brink of oblivion. You cling to him, nails digging into his back, grinding your hips against his, to take him as deep as possible until you feel the tip of his cock deliciously pressing against your cervix with every thrust. You wrap your arms around his neck your fingers finding hold in his hair, as you begin shaking, and with a shuddering gasp, you feel the tension in you snap and the first wave of pleasure crashing over you with an intensity you haven’t felt before, stars exploding before your eyes, your whole body trembling as you ride out the waves of your orgasm on his cock without slowing down.

He keeps fucking you through your high, drawing more moans and gasps from you until you feel him tense too, his length pressing even harder against your walls.

“Where do you want me?” he gasps.

“Inside” is all you can get out with a loud moan, your pussy still clenching around his cock and you feel Hunter's own release echoing yours, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. With a final thrust, he spills himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his warm cum as you both ride out the waves of pleasure ripping through you together.

You cling to each other, panting, your bodies pressed together in a sweet embrace as you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You let your fingers trail through his hair and softly trace the lines of his tattoo looking at him in awe, completely blissed out. He let’s his forehead rest against yours and you are exchanging soft loving kisses when you suddenly hear your comms crackle from somewhere beside the pool.

“Hunter are you listening… Hunter…Mini… “

“noooo Tech…leave them” you hear clattering and a voice in the background

“Hunter do you hear me? Even though Crosshair suggested you are not solely bathing but possibly engaging in intercourse I recommend you get out of the water. The time you spent there is unacceptable and will negatively affect your blood circulation. Mini… I’m sure you know that, you’re the medic. Do you hear me? It’s clearly been too long. Get out of ther…” the comm crackles again, weird noises and mumbling in the background until you hear Crosshair.

“Sorry for the interruption Sarge, I couldn’t stop him, just give us a sign when you’re headed back” and with that the comm falls silent again.

You can’t help but blush, feeling a bit exposed before the whole squad not even knowing where this is going or if it was just a one time thing. You desperately hope it’s not, when you said you want him, you meant it but you’re to afraid to ask how he is feeling, so you just revel in the heat radiating from his body drinking up every scent, every detail while it lasts, legs still wrapped around his waist, holding him close, fingers trailing trough his hair. Hunter nestles his head in your neck, pulling you even closer to his chest, leaving a few soft kisses along the way while his softening cock is slowly slipping out of you.

“Let’s get back to the Marauder then” he murmurs against your skin, “at least it seems they already suspect whats going on and appear to be ok with us being together…sleep in my bunk tonight?”

Your heart beams at his question, pounding in your chest.

“Guess that’s a yes” he chuckles, giving you one last loving kiss before he sets you on the edge of the pool to get ready for heading back to the ship.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 45

part 1 | part 44 | ao3

Nancy, Jonathan, and some guy with the longest hair Steve's ever seen are standing in a loose circle with Eddie and his bandmates, talking and sort of dance-nodding along to The Power of Love by Huey Lewis (a fact that Steve absolutely intends to mock his boyfriend for the second he gets the chance), and Steve, like, mentally girds his loins.

He and Jon are cool with each other, and he and Eddie are obviously, uh, plenty warmed up to one another by now, but the rest of them...

One's a stranger, one's an ex who seems drunk as shit and is currently so invested in spinning around to the music that she hasn't opened her eyes to notice him, and the other three are thawing to him at a truly glacial pace. Steve hasn't so much as been invited to watch a rehearsal yet because Eddie's 'still working on them' and needs 'a bit more time, but don't worry, they'll come around.'

They don't openly scowl when he and Robin approach, though, so Steve takes that as a win.

"Harrington!" Eddie calls, bowing deeply to add, "Lady Buckley."

Steve would feel stung by the surname if not for how downright giddy Eddie sounds. God, he loves tipsy Eddie; fucking Disney cartoon boy.

"Munson," he plays along, giving him a sly grin and a shoulder bump as he sidles up next to him. "Didn't know you were allowed to leave the basement at these things."

Jeff interrupts his air-guitaring to glare at Steve, bur Eddie holds out a hand and assures him that Steve's just fucking around. Before Steve can apologize or defend himself, Long Hair Guy leans in across the circle, his eyes wide and intense and bloodshot to hell.

"Dude," he greets. "You have. Such beautiful hair."

Steve barks a laugh. Robin rolls her eyes. Jonathan also rolls his eyes, but it seems more fond and less annoyed. "Can't take you anywhere," he mutters to the guy, then asks them, "You guys met Argyle yet?"

Steve holds out a hand. Confusion washes over him as he processes what Jonathan just said. "Uh." Argyle. "Like the sweater?"

"Yeah, man," Argyle smiles, dopey and slow. Sure. The guy in head-to-toe tie-dye and a neon green fanny pack is named Argyle. Why not? "My parents wanted a sheep, but they got me, instead."

Jonathan laughs like it's the funniest joke he's ever heard. Steve's pretty sure he's too sober for this conversation.

They exchange handshakes, and Robin asks if she can touch the guy's hair, and they all slip into easy, friendly conversation, naturally splintering into smaller groups of twos and threes. Steve's just getting the rundown on all the 'sick new gear' the band got for Christmas when the song changes, and god, this night just could not get better.

"Oh, fuck off!" Eddie groans in the DJ's direction.

Steve has to practically swallow his lips to keep himself from cackling, and then he gives up and does it, anyway, because Eddie looks like he just sucked a lemon while watching a dog die as his bandmates all start sing-shouting along. "We're talking away..."

"No." Eddie wheels around and points a finger at Steve, because Steve's singing, too.

Steve just sings louder. "I don't know what, I'm to say!"

"Oh, my god." He scrubs a hand down his face, dragging the skin down until Steve can see the pale pink of his inner eyelid. "Nobody I know has any goddamn taste!"

"Maybe you don't have any taste!" Robin teases, bouncing around and swinging her arms haphazardly to the music.

Nancy backs her up with a mumbled "Yeah!" but she's still spinning around in such tight circles that Steve doubts she has a single clue what's happening in the argument right now. Which is kind of endearing, actually. He likes how willing she is to stick up for people.

The chorus kicks in; Gareth air-drums the switch to half time just before Frank does an honestly super impressive falsetto of 'in a day or twoooooo', and Eddie despairs while Steve laughs his fucking head off.

—

part 46

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[gojos-thot-patrol]

Now Loading...

Starring: Frat boy! Sukuna and a (possibly) pregnant reader

Synopsis: Funny how something as small as a grain of rice can cause a shift so massive in so many lives. Deny all he wants, you're having a baby and now Ryomen has to comes to terms with being a young dad. While it can be read on it's own, this is also part of the Frat Boy Au, which you can read here!

Content Warnings: a pregnancy scare, other than that, it's mostly fluff ;)

(Also, if yall want a song to go with the fic: New Mistakes by Jellyfish inspired it)

You had experienced time slowing down before. It slowed down as you walked across the stage for your high school graduation. It had slowed down again when you got your acceptance letter to college. It slowed down the first time you saw your now boyfriend, and when you met his mom for the first time. But it had never been slower than it was now, as you sat on your bed, staring at the Clearblue pregnancy test in your hand.

“Well, what’s it say?!” You roommate, Mei Mei, asked- arguably more nervous than you were. She knew Ryomen was bad news, but she didn’t think he was this fucking bad. She moved to try and take the test from your hand, only for Shoko to slap her shoulder.

“Stop making a bad situation worse Mei.” Shoko growled, irritated from not being able to light a cigarette during this high stress situation.

“Two lines…” You mumbled, not looking up from the stick, “Two lines, what does two lines mean!?” Their expressions told you everything you needed to know. Panic filled you as you dropped the test and grabbed a pillow to scream into. God, how could you have let this happen?! Your period was only a few days late, you had taken the test mostly to put Mei Mei at ease. You didn’t know if you were happy you took it or not anymore.

“It’s okay Y/n, we’ll figure this out.” Shoko sighed as she rubbed your back, failing to hide the disappointment in her voice.

“How am I supposed to tell him?!” You panicked as you ripped your head up from the pillow, “How do you tell someone you ruined there life?!”

“You ruined his life?!” Mei Mei scoffed in disbelief at the assertion, “You should be asking him how the hell he plans to make this up to you! He ruined your life!”

“Nobody's life is ruined!” Shoko snapped at the both of you. “It’s a baby not cancer, Jesus fucking Christ. And it’s not like you don’t have options. You’re the one in control here Y/n, whatever you want to happen will happen.” She said, motherly assurance uncharacteristically thick in her tone. It did make you feel a little bit better about the situation. You weren’t absolutely powerless here.

And it wasn’t like you were against being a mother. Quite the contrary, you liked the idea. Of course, you never thought it would be this soon in your life, but…the universe had a funny way of handling things. And if you were going to have a baby, you didn’t think you could have picked a better guy than Ryomen. He was loving, and kind, not to mention the fact he was guaranteed a good job out of college. But, you also knew that he was beyond nervous about being a dad one day, terrified by the notion of becoming his own father.

“I need to talk to Ryomen.” You sighed. 

🍼🍼🍼

“Dude, In what world does a theoretical physicist need to know about the themes of The Metamorphosis, so a dude becomes a bug, so wh-”

“Hey, shut up Y/n just texted me.” Ryomen cut Satoru off as he checked his phone, the buzzing alerting him to a notification. They were sitting next to each other on the couch, venting about classes they hated. Sugruru was sitting on the arm of the couch closest to Satoru, and Nanami taking up an entire love seat across from them as he played on his own phone. It was a relief to have an excuse to end this conversation really. Ryomen did not have it in him to try and listen to his frat brother straight up misunderstand classic literature for the millionth time.

“And you couldn’t wait to answer it until I finished my sen-”

“No, Y/n texted.” Ryomen said without looking up from his phone, but trusting his tone got across his annoyance. Satoru knew you took precedence, Ryomen didn't know why he was acting like you didn’t all of the sudden.

“And she couldn't wait for two-”

“Are you still talking?” Ryomen snapped. Satoru let out an irritated grumble, frustrated he couldn’t go on his (ill informed) rant about how classic American literature, and literature in general, was useless. “Y/n wants to come over.” Ryomen informed his frat brothers. “Like, now.”

“What’s up with Y/n?” Suguru asked from his spot on the arm of couch, deciding it was safe to enter the conversation now that there was no hope of Satoru going on his rant.

“No clue, she just says we need to talk.” He grumbled softly as he typed on his phone. It wasn’t like you to be this cagey about anything, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t concern him at least a little.

“Dude, shes gonna break up with you.” Satoru's mouth moved faster than his brain did, and for it he got a swift elbow to the stomach. 

“No she’s not.” Ryomen hissed. “She just wants to talk.”

“It’s probably to make plans for fall break, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Nanami said, quickly getting irritated with all the arguing. 

“Yeah, the dorms close in, what, like two weeks?” Suguru confirmed, “She’s probably gonna ask to stay with your family so she doesn't have to fly back to her own.”

“You’re probably right.” Ryomen took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. That made sense. You got along great with his mom and brother, and your own family basically not at all. It tracked that you would rather drive a few hours and spend a week with people you liked than fly out to people you didn’t. Yeah, that made sense. Yeah.

So why did he still feel so anxious?

🍼🍼🍼

Ryomen had never been more convinced that you were going to leave him than he was now. As you sat across from him on the bed, starring at your fidgeting hands as if they held the secrets to the universe. Something was palpably wrong, he could feel it hanging in a thick veil between the two of you. He didn’t know if he should reach beyond it to hold you, or give you your space and let you come to him. He settled on nervously picking at his nails.

“So, uh, you wanted to talk?” He asked.

“Yeah, I, uh..I’m just trying to think of how to say this.” You muttered. He felt the color drain from his life when you said that. What did he do? Was it about Amy- or whatever the fuck her name was? That was a month ago now, surly it wasn’t that. Was it someone else? That thought made Ryomen realize that actually, he was capable of murder. 

He could feel his jaw clench at the thought of you with another man, white hot rage filling his hands and emotions while images of you with a stranger flashed in his head against his will. What the fuck did that asshole have that he didn’t? What made them think they were worthy of your smile, of your laugh, of you? Who did they think they were?

“Ryomen, I’m pregnant.”

“He’ll never love you like I do.” There was a thick silence of a different variety as they two of you spoke over each other, both of you trying to process what the other said.

“A-are you saying the…baby won’t love me?” You weren’t offended, you were just confused.

“You’re fucking pregnant?” Ryomen could feel his entire world shifting in real time. Thank god you weren’t leaving, but…Pregnant?

“Yeah, that’s what I said, what did You say?” You questioned again, trying to figure out where the fuck that came from. Of all the things you expected him to say, it wasn’t whatever he said.

“It doesn’t really matter what I said, forget I said anything, how long have you known?” He asked, finally pushing past the veil to wrap his arms around you. 

“Like…maybe thirty minuets?” You sighed, rubbing your face as the stress came back. “My period was a week late, so…I took a test, and well…Baby.” You still weren’t sure this was all real.

Ryomen felt the world freeze around him as reality took hold. A dad? He couldn’t be a fucking dad. He was in his fucking twenties, he still had two years left until he graduated, he couldn’t be a dad yet! He thought about his own father, who buckled under the pressure and ran off the moment things got hard. What if he inherited that kind of cowardice? Hell, he didn’t even have the spine to tell his dad to fuck off when he came back in his life after eleven years of radio silence just to completely take control of his future, how the fuck was he supposed to raise a child?!

“Babygirl, that’s amazing!” He smiled, pulling you into his lap and kissing your forehead, “You’re going to be an amazing mom.”

“You think so?” You whispered, taking some comfort in his confidence, It eased your own fear about the uncertain future. 

“Of course I do.” He assured you with the grin that got you into this mess in the first place. Ryomen was fucking petrified of what came next, and he could tell you were too. To him, easing your fear was the most important thing. He could have his own freak out later, right now he needed to be here for you. 

And his words did the trick. Slowly you could feel the tension melting from your shoulders as it settled in that he wasn’t mad, and you weren’t in this alone. “God, I was so scared you where going to leave.” You confessed, feeling the tears pool in the corner of your eyes. His arms tightened around you, holding you like he feared you might be the one to run.

“I’m not going anywhere Babygirl, I promise,” He swore to you, kissing the top of your head, “Wherever you are, that’s were I’ll be. Right next to you and our baby.” His smile was so reassuring, for a second, you actually felt hopeful for the future. He pulled your face to his, and you melted into his kiss.

Ryomen laid with you in his bed, cuddling and talking softly until you finally passed out. He insisted on you staying the night with him, if for no other reason than he found comfort in having you near. He waited until he knew you were in a deep sleep, breathing softly and steadily. He kissed your cheek before he slipped out of bed, into the kitchen for a beer, then out to the balcony to drink it. He was leaning against the old wooden railing, running a hand through his hair as he tried to visualize what his future would look like now.

“So a baby, huh?” He nearly jumped out of his skin at Suguru's voice.

“Jesus fucking Christ, a warning Geto!” He hissed as he took a drink of the cheap beer, giving Suguru the side eye as he leaned next to him.

“Sorry, I’ll make sure to yell at the top of my lungs everywhere I go from now on.” Suguru chuckled softly.

“How do you know we’re having a baby?” Suguru grimaced a little at the pink haired mans question, knowing he got the information through unethical means.

“Satoru listened in on yours and Y/n conversation.” He said as if his ear wasn’t pressed up against the door too, “Sorry.”

“Mmm.” Ryomen groaned, not wanting to accept the apology, but acknowledging it none the less.

“So…whats the plan?” Suguru asked the question no one really wanted to ask, but everyone wanted the answer to.

“The plan is I’m going to be a dad, I guess.” Ryomen grumbled, not really use to the idea yet. He took another drink.

“Well, in that case, congratulations then!” Suguru smiled, taking the cheap beer from Ryomen’s hand and lifting it up, “To the new dad! You’ll do great.” He said as he took a drink.

“Gee, thanks you’re too kind.” Ryomen scoffed.

“Hey man, I’m serious.” Suguru insisted, “I think you’ll be a great dad, if for no other reason than cause your dad sucked. You have the perfect example of what not to do.”

“No I don’t.” Ryomen argued, stress edging into his tone against his will, “My dad wasn’t even there to show me what to not do, he was fucking gone! I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do!” His panic was getting the better of him. He took his beer back and took another drink.

“No one does.” Suguru chuckled, still as calm as ever. “You think this shit comes with a manual? No parent in the long history of parenting has ever known what they were doing. But, you’re worried about it. You’re worried about being a good dad. And that’s further than any shitty parent gets. Probably further than you’re dad got. It shows you care man. And besides, you’ll have Y/n with you. She’s going to be a fantastic mom. If shes got the patience to deal with us, a toddler will be a breeze.”

“I don’t know man. What if…what if I am just like my dad?” Ryomen muttered. He looked just like him. He was going to take over his business. Hell, after his dad forced him to be a business major, Ryomen even changed his last name back to his fathers. It made sense at the time, a Sukuna should be the one to take over the Sukuna family business. But, now? Now that he had to pass that last name on? He wasn’t sure he wanted it. “What if it’s just…in my blood to be my dad?”

Suguru actually laughed at that, hard enough to embarrass the man next to him. “Ryomen, being a shitty person is not genetic I assure you. If it was, Nanami would be a lot more insufferable. It’s not up to our parents to decide who we are as people, that for us to decide and us alone. You’re not your DNA sequencing, you’re the actions that you take and the choices that you make. Your father has no control over that.”

“I mean…yeah. I guess you’re right.” Ryomen muttered, taking another drink before handing the bottle back to Suguru. As cliche as it may have been to say, he was starting to feel better. Maybe he wasn't doomed to be his father. Maybe the Sukuna name wasn’t a death sentence.

“Of course I’m right.” Suguru grinned as he finished off the beer. “So what are you going to do now?” He asked.

“Now?” Ryomen sighed, “Now I need to go talk to my mom.”

🍼🍼🍼

It was a week before Ryomen found the time to make the drive home. A week that he spent attached to your hip. A week making sure you didn’t have to lift up a single thing, a week of threatening anyone who dared smoke around you, and a week of coming to terms with his new future. The two of you had spent the time researching doctors, and on baby forums looking for advice. He was relieved to admit, he kinda became fond of the idea of having a little baby running around. 

He started to imagine what they would look like, what they would sound like, and what their favorite color would be. Money wouldn’t be an issue once he took over Malevolent Shrine International, so he wasn’t worried about that. Honestly, you wouldn't have to work if you didn’t want to, and if you did want to he could afford child care. The two- No. The three of you were going to be okay. He hoped it would be only three.

He knocked on the door of his childhood home, having forgot his key and not being willing to go all the way back for it. Much to his dismay, Yuji answered the door. 

“Sorry, sign says no solicitors.” He said, quickly trying to close the door. Ryomen was fast to push against him, trying to get his body through the crack in the entry. 

“Open the door brat or I’m going to wipe your hard drive.” Ryomen threatened,

“College hasn’t changed you one bit, has it?” Yuji scoffed, sticking his tongue out at his brother. 

“It’s made me more prone to violence, wanna see?” Ryomen growled as he pushed against the door harder. Yuji stood firm though, an immovable object to Ryomen’s unstoppable force. 

“I’m going to tell Y/n you said that!” It was Yuji’s turn to threaten, “I’m also going to tell her that you beat me up! And you’re mean! And that you kick kittens!”

“Why you little-” Ryomen finally got his arm through the small space, almost getting a hand on his little brother before his mothers voice brought the entire show to a halt.

“Are you two Trying to break my door?!” She sounded exasperated, “Yuji, let your brother in!” The moment their mother got involved the boys remembered how to act, with Yuji calmly opening the door and Ryomen walking in like he wasn’t just trying to strangle his little sibling. 

“Hi Mom.” He said, smiling warmly as she came up and hugged him.

“Hi Honey,” She said, giving him a soft pat on the cheek. “Wheres Y/n? I made coffee.”

“She had a test today, she couldn’t make it.” He said. That was a lie. You were completely free, but, he didn't want you here for this conversation.

“Mmm, you know your ears turn red when you lie, right?” His mom laughed as she walked to the kitchen. He followed her with a roll of his eyes, sitting at the kitchen table.

“She was busy, alright?” He defended himself as his mom put a coffee cup in front of him, sitting across from him with her own.

“Sure. So what did you need to talk about sweetie?” She asked. Ryomen took a moment to really study his mom. She didn’t look so different from how he remembered her in his childhood. A few more wrinkles, a lot more gray hair, but still his mother none the less. He wondered how she felt when she realized she was having a baby.

“So, um…Y/n is…” He couldn’t make eye contact.

“Ryomen, don’t tell me you got that poor girl pregnant.” She gasped, putting down her mug and looking at him with demanding eyes. 

“Why would you jump to that?!” He tried to deflect.

“Then tell me she’s not.” She said, looking at him with a scowl that dared him to try and lie.

“....She is.” He sighed, taking a drink from his coffee to get away from her disappointed gaze.

“Sweet Jesus...” His mom sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead. Then she laughed a little, shaking her head with a soft smile she tried to hide behind her coffee cup.

“What?” He asked. She shook her head again.

“Nothing just…well, I guess I was around your age when I had you. A little younger. You can’t really be mad at the apple for not falling too far from the tree now, can you?” She chuckled softly, and it put Ryomen at ease. So she wasn’t going to eviscerate him. Good. 

“Yeah, well…Gotta honor some family traditions, am I right?” He tried to joke, only to be quickly shut up by his mothers disapproving glare. 

“So whats your plan big man?” She asked, “You’re not going to leave her alone with this, that’s for damn sure.”

“No mom, I couldn’t even imagine-”

“Good, cause I’ll choose Y/n over you every time.” She teased. 

“I know mom.” He smiled, “Good to know you like her, cause that makes this question a lot easier to ask.”

“Oh?” He really caught her attention now.

“I was wondering, do you know where Grandmas wedding ring is?” He bit his lip as he finally said it out loud. Even before you were pregnant, every time Ryomen imagined his future, it was always with you as his wife. He couldn’t conceive of a life without you by his side, now more so than ever. He was going to make things right, and unlike his own dad, he wasn’t going to wait for the second baby to do it. He knew he was on the right track when he saw his mothers proud smile.

“As a matter of a fact, I think I do. I think I know where some of your old baby clothes are too, hold on.”

🍼🍼🍼

“Ryo!” You smiled as he walked into the entry of the frat house, carrying a walmart bag of old baby clothes. You were down the stairs and in his arms in an instant, laughing happily as you jumped to him. He caught you with a grin, spinning you around before putting you back on the ground.

“I could get used to that.” He teased. You smiled and rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“I’m sure you could. Ryo, I have amazing news, I- wait, what’s in the bag?” You asked as your brain finally registered that there was something in his hand. 

“Oh, yeah!” He smiled excitedly as he put the bag on the coffee table, “Remember how I went to talk to my mom? She says hi by the way, but look! She still had some of mine and Yuji’s old baby clothes!” He said, pulling out a truly precious onesie, covered in stars and a rocket ship, followed by a red, blue, and yellow stripped jumper.

“Oh baby-” You sighed as you realized your good news might actually not be good news.

“I know it’s not a lot, and its all kinda old and used, but it’s a start, you know? Something to bring the baby home in.”  He said, putting the clothes down and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Baby, I’m not pregnant.” You dropped that like a nuke. He blinked at you as he tried to process what you just said.

“Huh?”

“I’m not pregnant Ryomen, I’m sorry. I got my period.” You said, gently cupping his cheek. You did not expect a reaction like this at all. Confusion, sure, but not…disappointment?

“But I thought you took a test?” He asked, trying to catch up to reality.

“I did, but it must have been a false positive. Apparently that’s pretty common with my birth control.”

“Oh…” He wasn’t expecting to feel so upset about this either. Like the entire world he had build up in his mind was gone. He realized he was going to be mourning the death of someone who truly never existed, and felt so ridiculous about it. He didn’t realize he was tearing up until you brushed a tear off his cheek.

“I’m sorry Ryo…but, hey! Look on the bright side, we get to keep our twenties!” You chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. He smiled gently and nodded.

“You’re right it’s just…I don’t know. I kinda liked the idea of starting a family with you.” He confessed softly, an idea that would have made his skin crawl just a little over a year ago. You really did force him to grow up. You laughed a little more sincerely this time, and gave him a quick kiss.

“Sorry Ryo, if you want a family, you’re gonna have to upgrade from the girlfriend package to the wifey bundle.” You teased him. 

“Y/n!” Gojo yelled from up the stairs, “Nanami got tired of waiting for you, he un-paused the game!” You paled as you realized that Nanami was unfairly demolishing you at street fighter.

“Hey! That’s illegal!” You yelled as you ran up the stairs to try and salvage the round. Ryomen watched as you ran away, an unfamiliar fondness growing in his chest. Normally, he would have been unbelievably jealous you were hanging out with his friends- especially without him. Now though? He saw it as a good sign.

“Upgrade, huh?” He muttered, mostly to himself. His hand dropped into his pocket, clutching the ring box there. “Don’t worry Y/n. I plan on it.” He promised as he went up stairs to join you. 

[wyattjohnston]

kinda hope they catch us - andrei svechnikov

summary: 3 times the engagement was a secret and 1 time it wasn't.

word count: 1,698

note: this is a fic written for @isconnormcdavidok as part of a server exchange run by @mp0625 💚

It never ceased to amuse Eva that seeing the other WAGs was like seeing a friend you hadn’t seen in months. It had been 2 days since the last home game, and yet it would still be all hugs, kisses and tell me what I’ve missed. Some of them weren’t at the game so Eva could talk about dragging Andrei along to Christmas with her folks, at least. Everyone else would get a somewhat rehearsed story about her plans for starting the New Year off on the right foot.

It was only ever so hard during the holidays when everyone always expected a big, grand tale every time they saw each other.

And only more so of a big deal because she was keeping a secret.

A large secret.

A secret taking up quite a bit of real estate on her left hand.

1.

Eva sighed at the line up of cars in the driveway and on the street outside her parents’ house. She had tried so hard to not be late for once, and she thought she was doing an excellent job.

Andrei assured her that they were, actually, only fifteen minutes late, which was the most on time Eva could ever remember being and her family would hopefully be impressed by that fact.

They made their way to the front door, arms so loaded with presents that she had to awkwardly press her nose to the doorbell because neither of them could free a hand to let themselves in.

A nervous buzz zipped through Eva’s body, her body bursting to tell her family news they’d been waiting to hear for what felt like forever, and she had her mouth open to spill it as soon as the door opened in front of her—except she was grabbed by the arm, her cousin letting out an exasperated “finally”, and hauled into the living room where the entire family was waiting.

Eva looked at Andrei, about to ask him if this was all his doing, to ask if he’d planned this, only to be met with him staring back at her and about to ask the same thing.

There wasn’t any time to work it out between them, though, because Eva’s sister was pulling her husband in front of them all and announcing that she was pregnant. Eva’s left hand got suddenly heavier.

It didn’t matter, though, that it had to put their plans on hold—and there was no question that that had to be the case—Eva used the now empty couches to unload presents from her arms, taking the ones Andrei was carrying.

“We’ll still be engaged tomorrow,” she whispered to him, the pressure of his hand on her upper back settling her.

His laugh was deep but soft when he said, “I know, Zolotse. I know.”

Eva joined the line to celebrate her sister and the pregnancy that she had all but given up on ever happening.

No effort was made throughout lunch to hide the new engagement ring, not intentionally on her part, anyway. Andrei holding hers hand throughout lunch, or when everyone moved back to the couch after, was the norm so nobody thought anything of it. He just so happened to be hiding the news they’d been so eager to share.

2.

Eva always made an effort to watch Andrei’s home games; she’d very much grown to enjoy over the course of their relationship, having met Andrei very early on in his NHL career. There was a nice rotating cast of significant others and kids who appeared at games, too, and Eva’s relationships with them had become some of her most cherished.

“Are you going to take your coat off?” Courtney asked, tugging at material as she passed Eva. “And gloves?”

Eva balled her hands up and then shoved them under her thighs. Her ring caught on the glove which in turn caught on her jeans, but she wasn’t going to let the cold get to her.

“Are you coming down with something?” Gracia asked, concerned enough to put her hand against Eva’s forehead. “It doesn’t feel like you have a fever.”

“I’m just really cold. I haven’t been able to get warm all day.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re twenty-three not eighty-three. Can you start telling us when it’s about to rain?”

Eva rolled her eyes, insisting that she wasn’t sick or old or anything else. She was cold.

There was a period of time before the game started where people were seeming to give her a wide berth; Eva was unsure if it was because they thought her contagious or if she looked generally unhappy about being at the game. And she wasn’t unhappy to be there; she made that very clear when Nykki finally sat next to her.

“Are you sure? You’re a little grumpier than usual.”

“Because nobody will let me be cold!” Eva protested. “I’m just trying to get warm.”

During the first intermission, a blanket from the team store was delivered. It was mortifying.

Andrei, when they were both home after the game, found it amusing at least, when he saw it laid across their bed where she was waiting for him with the covers tucked up under her chin.

3.

The boys were, yet again, off in a road trip. This time, just for one game in Toronto before they flew back for New Years’ Eve. Eva was out to brunch with most of the younger cohort of WAGs, ready to start ringing in the new year even if it was a day early.

Before she left, she’d spoken on the phone with Andrei as he was rushing out the door to get on the bus for practice.

“I think I’m going to take the ring off,” she had said, spinning the ring around her finger as she spoke.

There was a beat, much thicker than Eva had been expecting, before Andrei asked in a thick voice, “You what?”

“Nobody knows yet, right?” she asked, unsure if Andrei had told any of his teammates. It wouldn’t be a big deal, but she would have expected him to tell her. “Taking it off until you get home won’t be a big deal.”

Another beat followed, and Eva was expecting him to tell her that people already knew, that he was nervous to do so. She was opening her mouth to say that she wouldn’t bother if people already knew—because everyone would definitely know before she left for brunch—but Andrei beat her to it, sounding even more dejected.

“Zolotse… You don’t want a ring? You don’t want to be engaged?”

“Oh, god. Andrei. No. That is not what I mean!” Eva said in a rush, her voice becoming more and more high pitched with each word.

“What you mean?”

“If I take it off, we can tell people tomorrow! Together!” she held her left hand to her chest and bit the inside of her cheek as her eyes started to water. “Andrei, baby, I just want to tell people together. That’s all.”

Andrei asked her softly, a couple more times before he had to leave, to promise him she was telling the truth.

It put a bit of a damper on heading out to brunch, because she found that, even though it had been her idea, taking off the ring was a struggle. Still, she put it delicately on her bedside table, and headed out to see her friends.

+1

Hiding the ring was easy when her hand was securely in Andrei’s as they walked into the New Years’ Eve party. She was filled with nervous energy, and even though the ring was hidden she found herself looking at everyone as if they would be able to tell with just one look at her.

Not that they had up to that point.

They weren’t without drinks for very long as someone seemed to have been tasked with holding a tray right near the doors. Eva, without any input from Andrei, led them straight to where Martin and Nykki were standing off to the side—they were the first people they wanted to tell, after all.

There were handshakes and hugs the second Martin and Nykki noticed their arrival.

“Did you find the non-alcoholic wine?” Nykki asked, gesturing to Eva’s champagne flute and earning a furrowed brow in response.

“No? Why would—no, that’s not what I want to talk about. We have something to tell you.”

“I fucking knew it,” Nykki shouted, immediately turning to Martin and excitedly smacking his chest. “I told you she was pregnant?”

Andrei choked on his drink.

“Pregnant?” he asked, hurried and panicked.

“What the fuck?” asked Eva. “Where the fuck did you get that idea?”

“You’re obviously keeping a big secret.” Nykki’s tone was more accusatory than Eva expected. “You’ve been weird since Christmas, and you were really sick at the game on Saturday, and you’re not drinking—”

Eva cut her off to exclaim, “I had three mimosas at brunch yesterday!”

“They weren’t orange juice? What have you been hiding from us then?”

“This fucking dwarf planet I’ve been wearing for a week?” Eva pulled her hand from Andrei’s to hold it out to Nykki and Martin. “That somehow nobody has noticed? It has gravitational pull.”

Nykki grabbed Eva’s hand so rapidly that Eva was startled, but she let Nykki inspect it closely whilst Andrei and Martin had a silent conversation over Nykki’s excited screaming. It drew the attention of everybody nearby.

There was a lengthy conversation once more of the WAGs gathered, how did he do it? When did he do it? Why didn’t you tell us? And Eva had to try and convince them that she hadn’t meant to—aside from the brunch—it had just ended up that way. Not one of them believed her in the moment.

Her hand was being passed around the group, everyone admiring the ring and asking questions Eva didn’t know the answer to, so Eva caught Andrei’s eye here he was holding court with the boys and nearly melted at the softness of his smile. At the pride behind his eyes. At the love that emanated from his entire body.

[rubykgrant]

Idea for a Magnus Archives AU (that I don't have time to write all the way out, but it still intrigues me~)

At some point after Martin's father left, but when he was still very young, somebody offered to bring Mrs Blackwood some furniture. Used, but still in good condition. She refused, insulted by the idea that she needed "pity" or "charity", despite the fact that her health is already making things difficult... one day, while her son is at school, she hears a knock at the door. It takes her a while to get there. When she finally opens it, whoever knocked is gone, but they have left behind a table.

She assumes it was the same person as before, and is now irritated that they have "dumped" their old junk on her doorstep. A neighbor sees and offers to at least bring it inside. She decides it may as well be put to use, so she lets the neighbor move it in. Alone in the house, she looks the table over. It certainly isn't new, but isn't too beat-up or broken. It has a VERY unique pattern... almost like an optical illusion...

When Martin gets home from school, he's surprised to see that his mother is in the kitchen, getting ready to cook dinner; she hasn't done that in a year! He offers to help, or just make himself a sandwich and canned soup if she wants to rest, but she assures him that she's feeling MUCH better. This continues for several months, the doctors are amazed by what seems to be a miracle recovery! All the neighbors and old friends agree, she's also had a change in attitude lately, but it all seems for the better. Her son is especially happy... his mother seems so much more "gentle" than she used to be, and she doesn't even make him drink oolong tea with her anymore. She's decided that Earl Grey is better.

Nobody notices that her hair is a different length, a different color. Nobody notices the shape of her eyes and jawline has changed. Nobody notices that she's taller. Not any friends, neighbors, doctors, or family. Even all the photographs in the house have changed. A different woman is holding a tiny, newborn baby. A different woman is sitting next to a small Christmas tree, helping a child open a present. Nobody notices... except for one person.

When Mr Blackwood heard from an old friend that the wife he left had recovered, he suddenly had second thoughts. He really had thought she would die, and he must have had some sort of break-down. He couldn't handle it, so he ran away... but he's thinking clearly again. It has nothing to do with the fact that he also heard his wife recently got a new job, a very well-paying one with the kind of health plan that a spouse could share. It has nothing to do with the fact that he isn't feeling well himself lately, and he's noticed that he has nobody to take care of HIM. It has nothing to do with the fact that he hasn't been able to find work, and he also can't find a place to live. He just wants to go back because he misses his wife and son. That's all.

When Mr Blackwood returned, he brought flowers. To apologize. He knocked on the door, and heard a muffled voice call- "Come in!". He picked a time of day when he knew Martin would be at school, so he and his wife could reunite with some privacy. He expected his wife to be upset. He expected his wife to be angry, maybe cry, or try to throw something at him. He expected it would take time for his wife to let him explain, then forgive him. He expected HIS WIFE. The woman in this home was not his wife... she said she was, she smiled, used his name like she knew him, but she WASN'T. Her voice, face, EVERYTHING was different! This was wrong, why was this strange woman here?

He ran away, even though she called for him to stay. He tried to speak with their friends, her family... everybody acted like he was crazy. They acted like the woman claiming to be his wife was right. After months and months of trying to talk some sense into people, he finally remembers Martin; surely a child would know their own mother? Mr Blackwood has been watching the house, and he sees little Martin kiss the woman good-bye, then leave for school. As if everything was normal. He can't stand it anymore! He bursts through the door, shouting at the woman to tell the truth, but the noise alerts the neighbors, who call for help, and he leaves...

He stays away for more than a year, but he never went far. He kept watching. He tried to figure out WHY somebody would pretend to be his wife, and HOW she could fool everybody. It never makes any sense. He comes back again, in the middle of winter. Martin is sleeping over at a friend's house. Mr Blackwood has been sleeping in an old treehouse, long abandoned by the kids who built it. He can't stand the idea of that strange woman sleeping in the bed that SHOULD be his (that would have been his, if he hadn't left). He uses his key to open the back door. She hasn't changed the locks. He goes in, ready to be rough if necessary; he will get the truth if it kills him.

Around 2 in the morning, Mrs Blackwood calls for help. Her husband, the one who left her, the one who came back and threatened her, just tried to attack her! She fought back, and he ran off again. No trace of him is ever found. When Martin comes home, they have a discussion, and decide it isn't safe to life here anymore. So they move, not too far, Martin can still visit people he knew growing up. The new house is much nicer, in a safe neighborhood.

They take just about everything with them, except for a few large pieces of furniture they sell. Mrs Blackwood wants to keep the table with the unique pattern, though. She's grown rather fond of it. The movers she hired are... odd, but they get everything to the new home very quickly. When his mother speaks with the two of them beside their truck, Martin watches from a window, and he has the strangest feeling that... his mother might just step up into it, and ride away with them. Then she'll be gone, and he'll be alone. He can't explain why, but he almost expects it to happen.

She doesn't leave. She comes back inside, smiling, and hugs her child. Why wouldn't she? As the years go by, Martin wonders about his father; why the man left, why he came back, why he seemed so confused about who his own wife was. Martin also wonders what his father looked like, as none of the pictures they saved show his face. Mrs Blackwood tells her son- "I suppose there's a resemblance, but when I look at you, I just see YOU, not him. I love you too much to see your father in your features".

Martin grows up happy and safe with his mother. He's able to finish school, and eventually starts working at a bakery. Later, when he moves out to get his own place, he finds a job at a restaurant-confectionery in London. His mother didn't want him living so far away, but he really wants to sort of "get out in the world", have some experience on his own. Someday, he'd like to have his own tea shop and cafe. He works from the middle of the day to late shifts at the cafe, and he gets to know some of the regulars very well. One woman, Sasha, comes in often to get food and drinks for her coworkers. Martin likes chatting with her, and eventually meets Tim when they come to have lunch together. He considers them to be friends.

One day, they call and tell Martin they want to order the most extravagant cake possible for their boss; it is his birthday, and they are going to be obnoxious about it, but also trick him so he doesn't know they've planned something. Martin offers to bring it over himself, so they can pretend to not be up to anything. This is how he enters the Magnus Institute. This is how he meets Jonathan Sims. This is how he starts learning about the strange things they research here. This is how he sees a picture of a table with a very curious pattern. This is how he asks if he can listen to the statement about that table...

[spdraws]

All of my current Leverage and Leverage Redemption headcanons!!!!!

• Every night, Eliot checks that everyone is asleep in their beds, checks the locks on the doors, and makes sure the security system is working.

• It really freaked Breanna out the first time she saw Eliot severely injured. Hardison's stories made Eliot seem invincible. Eliot had to hug her and assure her that he was alright.

• Sophie hates Converse and Vans. Like she has some extreme beef with them.

• Breanna and Harry play Pokemon Go together often. Breanna is Team Instinct and Harry is Team Mystic and they fight over gyms all the time.

• Harry knows how to braid hair because when he was still married, his wife insisted that he should be able to do his daughter's hair.

• Eliot has an entire cupboard of drugs, mostly painkillers, ambiguously labled. He has received calls from every single girl on the team boiling down to, "Eliot, I'm on my period, and I can't figure out which of your stupid white bottles is ibuprofen." He's become quite used to it, and now keeps a special area of the cupboard for period stuff.

• Parker steals a stuffed toy whenever the con involves a store owned by an evil person. She's amassed quite a big collection, but bunny will always be her favorite.

• Hardison, with contributions from Parker and Eliot, now sends so much money to Nana that Nana was able to save up to buy a new house in a better neighborhood for all her foster kids.

Edit: she instead invests in supporting local community programs because people have enlightened me that nana wouod never move

• Harvey and Brenna text terribly made memes to each other all the time.

• Breanna's contacts are as follows:

Eliot: Wallmart Batman

Sophie: 👑SLAY QUEEN👑

Hardison: 👨🏿‍💻

Parker: 🐈‍⬛️Cat Burglar🐈‍⬛️

Harry: STUPID LITTLE LAWYER MAN

• Weekly movie night choices:

Sophie: Downtown Abby

Parker: Finding Nemo

Eliot: The Last Mohican/Rocky

Harry: The Spy Next Door

Breanna: Sonic (for the memes only)

• Eliot's room is the comfort room. Bad dream, feeling kinda sick, a recent con weighing heavily in mind, go to Eliot's room. He's almost never asleep, he knows more than anyone about first aid, and he gives the best hugs. He'll act all annoyed, but he'll always make the whumpee stay until they feel better.

• Everyone assumes Sophie can sew because she's the mom friend, but she has no clue. The team seamstress is actually Harry.

• Eliot keeps an ever-growing list of everyone's favorite foods. He keeps extra ingredients around, so he always has what he needs to whip something up if someone's having a bad day.

• Breanna can be extremely petty when she wants to be. She has been known to hack alexas to say creepy stuff out of nowhere and streetlights to turn each one red just to mess with people.

• Harry really loves dogs.

• Sophie once owned a turtle named Mistress Shellington that now belongs to her daughter.

• Harry's favorite color is yellow.

• Breanna forcing everyone to see the Barbie may not be the worst thing to ever happen to him, but Eliot ranks it pretty high on his list of life tragedies.

• Sophie has noticed that Eliot, when it comes to Parker and Breanna, will always grab them (hand, elbow, shoulder) when crossing the street. Nobody gives him any grief for it because they know he just wants to keep them safe.

• Breanna, from upstairs: ELIOT WHAT'S AN 8-TRACK TAPE?

Eliot: *deep sigh* I'm so old.

Harry: *chokes on drink*

• There are so many dents in the walls, and Sophie loves each one. Scrapes from Parker's grappling equipment, divots from Eliot's throwing knives, dents from Breanna's drones. It makes the HQ feel like home.

• Harry is an honorary girly. Girls' night is more like girls plus Harry night.

• Hardison has a note on his phone of things Breanna has said that make him feel old.

• Eliot has resigned himself to the fact that he will be Parker's and Breanna's personal jungle gym until his dying day. Parker pokes his bruises and climbs all over him, and uses his shoulder as a pillow. Breanna is almost the same. She punches and pokes him, just like Parker, and she often lays her head in his lap when watching tv.

Sophie has a picture on her desk of Breanna, asleep in Eliot's lap, and Parker, asleep against Eliot's shoulder. Eliot has one arm around Parker, the other caressing Breanna, tucking her fly away hair behind her ear. A calm smile is on his face. It's one of Sophie's favorite pictures.

• Eliot follows the sidewalk rule at all times.

• Eliot always sits facing the door. If the team is somewhere in public and one of the others takes the seat with the clearest view of the entrances and exits, he will make them switch seats with him so he can see the doors. It's a military habit.

• Parker hides chocolate in the vents so that nobody else can find it.

[riewritten]

TWO FACED MONSTER

JOHAN LIEBERT x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

WORDS: 300

TAGS: identity theft, manipulation, obsessive tendencies

The moonlight peeking through the apartment window panes augments the serene beauty of your roommate, who has been watching you sleep for as long as he can remember. It’s a newfound hobby, perhaps, as he doesn’t get the chance to look at you this close when he’s neither wearing a wig nor embracing Anna’s femininity, which then allows him to break down your walls.

You had a bad day today, and even though Johan barely listened, it paved the way for him to suggest sleeping beside you under the guise of making you feel better. You give him a look of appreciation and then nod meekly as you shyly admit that it would indeed make you feel better.

It’s always been like that for Johan—or Anna, as you call him.

He took time washing up—or so he reasoned out—so he could spend his beauty moment at the bathroom concealing his jawline that he deems masculine, doubling up his silicon pads in case a circumstance comes where you'd hug him and snuggle on his chest, and refilling his wig adhesive because, for the longest time he had watched you during nighttime, he saw how fidgety you were while asleep. He doesn’t mind that, really, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

As you tuck yourself into bed, Johan is done internalizing Anna’s psyche. Anna then lies down and hoists your hair up to your head’s crown, sending tickles. The squeak you let out made Anna chuckle.

While telling him all sorts of stories, you giggle midway, feeling a lot like a teenager at their first pajama party with best friends. Anna assures you amicably, “I’m willing to do this as much as you want if it’d make you feel better.”

“Oh please no. Once I get a partner, they’d be so jealous of you.”

She hums, almost a whisper, tiptoeing so she could sound perfectly comforting, “Then you might as well not find anyone other than me.”

You roll your eyes and joke back, “Mm’kay, your wish is my command.”

Little do you know, he’s not in any way joking around. Perhaps this fleeting tranquility and the moonlight doing their wonders to help lower your guard at his presence is none but a measly reparation for the damage he’d inflict on your heart once you realize his tomfooleries.

Nonetheless, it doesn’t matter to him that you only favor his physique as a woman. He wouldn't mind if you could only look at him fondly if he were called Anna. After all, he’s Anna and Anna is him. And names are not important. And sooner or later, no one in this world would know you by your name anymore. Once you're awakened from the fact that Anna is a two-faced monster fooling you, you’d have nobody else besides him, no one to call you by your name but him. By then, much to his anticipation, as the scenery of the doomsday comes, you would have no choice but let him engulf you.

continuation of the drabble inspired by @/504PY's art >w<

if you like this then consider giving oil well fires a read :D it's almost the same as this but... longer. lol

[roosterforme]

Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You do your best not to let Phoebe and Jeff derail how perfect your weekend with Bradley has been. After dinner, the two of you start asking what comes next, and you take him to a spot on campus he has dreamed about but never seen before.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swears, and angst

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

You should have known the two of them would be here to ruin your perfect night with Bradley. Your perfect weekend, really. But it was nearly impossible for you to think back on your time with Bradley ten years ago without Jeff and Phoebe popping up.

You tilted your face to look up at Bradley again, but his eyes were still focused across the room. "It's okay, Beer Boy. Let's get a drink."

Bradley turned toward you and nodded, and you ordered two beers from the bartender and handed him one. He laced his fingers through yours and let you guide him back toward the table where you had set down your bag. 

"Sorry. I just haven't seen or talked to either of them since I left for Rhode Island. Crazy."

"I wish we didn't have to see them now, either," you said, glancing over to their table again. You kissed Bradley's lips and whispered, "I will physically fight Phoebe if she tries to touch you."

Bradley laughed at that, and you smiled too. "You always were a little scrappy," he said. "But I don't think either of them could hurt me now, even if they wanted to. Which I certainly hope they don't."

"They better not."

You couldn't stop stealing glances at them though. Jeff looked exhausted, and he was losing his hair. Phoebe still looked pretty enough, you supposed, but she appeared to be with her husband who was plainly ignoring her and staring at his phone. And it looked like her hair was brittle and crispy from dying it several shades lighter than it used to be. 

Both of them looked miserable. Maybe they should have married each other. 

"Bradshaw!" came a booming voice, and you watched Bradley stand and accept a hug from Tyson.

"Hey, man. It's been awhile," Bradley said as you stood up as well. "Is your wife here?" 

You watched Tyson's eyes grow to the size of saucers, and Bradley casually reached for your hand. 

"No," Tyson said, still looking at you in surprise. "She's pregnant again and not feeling well. Decided not to come at the last minute." He smiled softly at you before glaring at Bradley. "Hey, why didn't you tell me you two were together again?"

Bradley cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, we're not-"

"It's recent," you blurted out, earning a surprised look from Bradley. "It's good to see you, Ty."

"Yeah.... damn. This is such a flashback!" he said. "Bradley moped for months after you dumped him. But I guess you know all about that now."

You squeezed Bradley's hand tighter, but he was still looking at you like he wasn't sure what was going on.

"I can assure you that I also moped for months," you told Tyson, letting out a shaky breath. "You guys chat, I see someone else I know."

There was in fact nobody else that you recognized, but you needed a moment to yourself. Why did you insinuate that you and Bradley were together again? You weren't together. If he wanted you in that way, he would have told you where he lived. He'd had a full day to do so. And now he was flying home in the morning. 

You felt like leaving before you could start crying. You were going to ruin what was left of your time with him if you couldn't accept this for what it was: one perfect reunion weekend with your first love.

"I thought that was you."

You spun around and almost bumped into Jeff. He was staring at your cleavage as you moved your beer bottle in front of yourself to try to block his view. 

"Hi," you managed to say, but you couldn't bring yourself to smile like he was.

"You look great."

Since the same could not be said about him, you just kind of shrugged. "Thanks."

"I can't believe you're still with Bradshaw."

You took a deep breath. "He's wonderful," you managed to say. "What are you doing these days?"

"Oh, selling used cars," he mumbled. "You?"

Your eyebrows shot up. He had the same math undergraduate degree as you. "I work here. Teaching. Mostly computational physics and linear algebra, but I have a calculus lecture as well."

"Wow," he said, looking both annoyed and impressed. 

"Yeah. Looking at some other schools for tenure positions for the fall."

"Must be nice," he mumbled.

You nodded and looked him square in the eyes. "I worked really hard."

When you noticed Jeff's eyes looking over your shoulder, you felt a warm hand on your lower back. 

"Hey, Sugar," Bradley whispered in your ear, and you looked up at him over your shoulder.

"Hi, Beer Boy," you whispered back, and without a single glance in Jeff's direction, Bradley guided you back to your table, leaving Jeff gaping at the two of you.

"You okay?" he asked, pulling out your chair as dinner was about to be served.

"Of course. You didn't want to talk to your old buddy Jeff?"

Bradley rolled his eyes. "Fuck no. Figured you didn't really want to either." 

You laughed and took his hand as he sat down. "You figured right."

Bradley raised your fingers to his lips and kissed them before reaching for the leg of your chair and pulling you closer to him. When your graduating class president and the dean of admission gave their speeches, Bradley wrapped his arm around you, and your head came to rest against his shoulder. Of course his fingers found your tattoo, blindly tracing along your skin there. 

Your eyes found his when he smiled down at you. His impossibly handsome face and his warm, brown eyes and his perfect lips. How had you managed to go ten years without him? You reached up, stroking his mustache with your thumb until he was almost laughing. 

You whispered, "Missed you," and then he was no longer smiling. He was looking at you intently when suddenly everyone was applauding for the finished speeches, and the waitstaff started rushing around with plates of salad. 

So you ate your dinner with your thigh pressed up against Bradley's, sharing food off of each other's plates. You laughed at the throwback music the band was playing, and Bradley eventually went to get you both more beer. 

Everything was comfortable in a way that you didn't know you were craving until you were experiencing it. 

"Do you want to dance?" Bradley asked you as the band started up again and several people made their way to the center of the room. 

"Yes," you replied, and he pulled you to your feet. He guided your arm over his shoulder with a smile and wrapped his hands around your waist. You traced his faded scars with your fingers while he sang along to the song. 

"You have the best singing voice," you told him, your smile growing wide. "I forgot just how much I loved listening to it."

"Think they know any Grateful Dead?" he asked. "That was my favorite to sing to you."

"Remember when you made me watch like eighty four hours of their concert footage?"

Bradley rolled his eyes and pulled you fully against him. "It was only like a fifteen hour DVD, Sugar. And we didn't even make it all the way through."

You licked your lips. "You're right. We found a different way to occupy our time."

Bradley's face was earnest and open, but there was still a smile dancing along his lips. "We sure did that a lot, huh?" 

You nodded and leaned up to kiss him before you said, "We've been doing it a lot since yesterday, too. This is one hell of a reunion weekend."

You watched the long scars on Bradley's neck as he swallowed. "Is that it though? Is this just for the weekend?" His eyes were searching your face intently. 

The idea of ending things tomorrow morning was too much for you to take, but when you spoke your voice was tiny and unsure. "Do you want more?"

Bradley's eyes drifted closed and his hands slid up your back, holding you in place as his dancing slowed. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel his racing pulse beneath your fingers on his neck. After a pause, he was looking intently at you again. 

"I wanted more ten years ago, Sugar."

The truth of his words stung you a bit. You'd wanted more, too. But you had also wanted him to get a chance to fulfill all of his other wishes and dreams, without making him feel tethered to you while you were so far away. 

"But what about now?" you asked. Then you took a deep breath and forced yourself to add, "Why didn't you tell me you live in San Diego?" Your voice broke on the last words, and you could see the look of panic in Bradley's eyes.

"How did you know that?"

You tried to pull out of his grasp as you swiped at the tears welling in your eyes. "I saw your luggage tag. In the hotel room. You live in San Diego, and you weren't even going to tell me, were you?"

When you squirmed away, trying to put some space between you, he held you tight. "No. I wasn't going to tell you. Not yet."

"Why not?" you asked, your voice barely audible over the sound of the band. "You don't want me now."

"That's not it!" he insisted loudly. "Sugar. Come on, baby. That's not it."

You just shrugged helplessly and looked around the room, the colorful lights obscured by your tears. "What is it then?" you asked, not meeting his eyes. 

He was stroking your cheek now, and although you tried your best not to, you could feel yourself melting into his touch. "Please look at me." You met his eyes and sniffed, and he kissed you softly, reverently, and you let him. "You're so smart, Sugar. And you work so hard." You watched him struggle with his words as so many other couples danced around you. "And I can't be responsible for derailing your career if Miami is a better choice for you. I can't do that."

"Bradley."

But he just shook his head. "No. You need to visit both schools. You need to remove me from this equation."

"But Bradley!"

"Sugar, you let me do what I needed to do ten years ago. It nearly fucking killed me at first, but I never blamed you for what you did. You kept me safe. And made sure I knew how you felt about me first. And you let me make my decisions for myself and not because I was focusing all my energy on you. It hurts me to say it, but thank you. And now you need to do the same thing for yourself."

You sucked in a deep breath. "And what if I choose San Diego? What if that's the right choice for me? Where does that leave us?"

Bradley smashed his lips against yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck once again. His kiss was demanding, but it ended as soon as it began. "Ask me that again after you make your decision. Either way, whatever your decision is, ask me again, okay?"

You nodded at him. 

"And please forget about my luggage tag and my address and promise me you'll visit both schools."

"I will, Beer Boy. I promise."

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

Bradley held you tight in the middle of the dance floor, cradling your head against his chest and singing you another song. He was so close, once again, to telling you he loved you. He wanted you to know it, was pretty sure you already did, but he was too scared.

More than anything, he wanted you to choose San Diego. Because it was the right fit for you. Not because he was there. But he'd be lying to himself if he didn't want to play a part in your future plans. 

"Beer Boy?" you finally asked him. 

"Yeah, Sugar?"

You were smiling again. You seemed to be more at ease now that you got the information about his address off your chest. 

"Can we go? This is nice and all, but I just want to be with you. Alone."

"Let's go," he replied without hesitation. "Should I call an Uber?"

You nodded as he reached for his phone, and he followed you willingly to grab your purse. "I'm going to run to the restroom. Meet me in the lobby?" you asked. 

Bradley kissed your cheek. "Yep. Ride will be here in nine minutes."

You disappeared through the crowd, and Bradley made his way toward the lobby at a slower pace. He opened up the airline app when it prompted him to check in for his flight, but instead he started to scroll to see if there were any seats available on a later flight. He really needed to be back in San Diego tomorrow, but if he could stay with you for just a little bit longer....

"Bradley?"

He thought he was alone in the lobby. He knew that voice. He spun around and came face to face with Phoebe.

"Hi," he managed. "Phoebe."

"Wow," she sighed. "You look great. Even better than you did ten years ago."

"Yeah? Thanks." He swallowed, his throat tight. It was hard to even look at her, even after all this time. This woman had fed into and also stunted his self esteem for nearly four years of his life. 

"Your scars healed nicely."

"Oh," he muttered, brow furrowed.

"You know I didn't mean it that way, Bradley," she said quickly, taking another step into his personal space. "They never bothered me before."

He ran one hand down along his face. "I'm not doing this with you, Phoebe. I truly hope you've been well, but I'm not doing this."

Bradley started to walk away, but she reached out and stopped him with her hand on his chest. 

"I owe you an apology."

He froze and looked down at her in shock. 

She laughed bitterly. "I never could handle the rejection you gave me. But seeing you here with her? Still? My god, I feel sicker than ever over what I put you through. Sorry."

Bradley felt her patting his chest before she started to withdraw her hand. He stood completely still and then nodded and whispered, "Thank you."

He could hear your heels on the floor and sense your presence before he saw you, but instantly you were at his side, linking your arm through his.

You made a show of running your thumb along his mustache before tilting his head down and kissing him, and he let you do it. "Hi, Sugar," he whispered when you released his lips. 

Bradley watched you turn toward a bitter looking Phoebe and say, "Oh. You'll have to excuse us. We were just leaving." Then you tugged on Bradley's arm and led him toward the exit. "I saw her touch you," you whispered. "I didn't like that."

"No? What are you going to do about it, Sugar?"

You just smirked as he pointed out the car that had arrived to pick you up. "I'm going to take us on a little detour. That's what I'm going to do about it."

He opened the car door for you, and you gave a different address to the driver while you scooted across the back seat so Bradley could climb in as well.

"Where are we going, Sugar?" he whispered next to your ear before kissing you there. 

You were practically crawling into his lap when you said, "My office."

Bradley had pictured many times how you might look working in your very own office in academia. He figured all the college guys would be swarming your office hours to spend a little extra time basking in your presence. He also just knew you'd be a great teacher, one who graded everything farily. But getting to see your actual office? Mess around in it, perhaps?

He grabbed your chin and kissed you so hard you squeaked. But his phone started vibrating in his pocket against your leg. He yanked it out without breaking your kiss, and just wanted to silence it. 

"Oh, it's Nat," you whispered, pulling away from him and looking at the screen. 

Bradley grunted and quickly opened the text thread from one of the few people in his life who consistently talked to him on a daily basis.

Phoenix: How's your class reunion going? Haven't heard from you since yesterday morning!

When the car stopped at a traffic light, and Bradley looked at your face all lit up from the street lights, he put his arm around you. "Mind if I send her a picture?" he asked. 

You just smiled and said, "Okay, Beer Boy."

He snapped a few selfies of the two of you all cozy in the backseat, including one with your head resting on his shoulder and another one with your lips pressed to his cheek.

Quickly, he sent two of them back to Nat and then got his lips right back on yours. 

"Almost there," you whispered, pulling away briefly before licking Bradley's lips with the tip of your tongue. His black suit pants felt extremely tight at the moment the car pulled up to the curb in front of the building where Bradley used to walk you to your lab class. 

He helped you out of the car, and his phone started vibrating in his hand. 

Phoenix: OH MY GOD BRADLEY IS THAT SUGAR?

Phoenix: ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW.

Phoenix: IT'S HER. ISN'T IT? SHE IS STILL FUCKING BEAUTIFUL AND YOU LOOK SO HAPPY.

Phoenix: WHY AREN'T YOU WRITING BACK?

Phoenix: OH MY GOD, ARE YOU FUCKING? I AM SO SORRY! TEXT ME BACK LATER.

Bradley tossed one arm around your shoulders and let you read the screen along with him. You started cracking up. "Is it okay if I respond?" you asked, a huge smile on your face.

"Of course," Bradley replied, and he used the ID card you handed him to unlock the building, holding the door open for you to enter. 

"This way," you murmured with a soft laugh as Bradley followed you to the elevator bank, keeping his hand on the small of your back.

As you stepped into the elevator with him right behind you, he watched you send a message to Nat and then hand his phone back to him. He glanced at the screen.

You think I'm beautiful? Bradley was showing me a bunch of pictures, and I think you're stunning! I'm having the best weekend of my life, but I promise I'll return him to you in one piece. It's the least I can do after you've taken care of him all these years.

Bradley's heart was pounding in his ears as the elevator arrived on the eighth floor. "This is the best weekend of your life?" he asked as you laced your fingers through his and led him down the dimly lit hallway. 

"You know, it's not nice to read other people's conversations, Beer Boy," you said with a smirk as you used your ID card to unlock your office door. 

He looked at his phone again.

Phoenix: YOU CAN KEEP HIM! PLEASE KEEP HIM! I'LL SEND HIS FEEDING SCHEDULE AND HIS VACCINATION RECORDS.

Bradley put his phone away with a grin and let you lead him into your tiny office. Two walls were lined with shelves, one wall had a window with a view of the cafeteria, and your desk was right in the middle of the floor. Most of your things seemed to be packed in the cardboard boxes that were stacked up next to the door. 

"Well, this is my office. What do you think?" you asked, shrugging and spinning in a small circle. You looked perfect in your dress, with your tattoos and your mussed up hair. 

"I think...." he began, licking his lips as you planted your palms against his chest. "I think this is the best weekend of my life, too."

Your breathing was a little shallow as you looked up at him and nodded. "What are we supposed to do about it?" you whispered. 

Bradley kissed you softly. "You promised me."

You pulled him closer to you, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss. "I know," you murmured against his mouth, and soon he was tasting you, his tongue gently sweeping against yours. Your fingers scraped along the short hair at the back of his neck as you nibbled on his lips and gasped when he stroked your tattoos. 

Every little sensation, everything that was specifically you had him aching for more. There was no way he could be without you now. He didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do. 

You broke away from his kisses and pressed yourself against his erection. "I have an idea, Beer Boy. What's your Professor Sugar office fantasy?"

He groaned, a deep, needy sound from the very back of his throat. You were gasping in his arms, mouth agape before he even said anything. "We really gonna do that?" he asked you, his voice raspy and broken as you stared up at him with wide eyes. "Because I've been thinking about that for a very, very long time, Sugar."

Bradley eased his fingers along your bare shoulder and up your neck, digging them into the back of your head a little bit, forcing your eyes to remain on his. "Yes," you agreed, already looking like you were in a daze. "I sometimes think about you when I'm alone in here. So it only seems appropriate."

He kissed you hard until you were moaning into his mouth. He wanted you in every way imaginable, all the time. But right now he wanted it sweet and slow and impossibly hot as he showed you just what he thought about when you were on his mind and his dick was in his hand. 

He grabbed you by the hips and guided you backward until you met your desk. Then he spun you around and helped you grab onto the edge of your desk, listening to your hitching breaths and rubbing himself along your backside. "I need you to know," he whispered, pushing your hair away from your ear, "that I'll be thinking about this for the rest of my life."

"Bradley," you groaned as he kissed along the back of your neck, sucking on your sweet skin until you were bucking back against him. 

"Fuck." He reached around to the front of your dress, taking the fabric on either side of the slit and bunching it up in his hands. Then he slowly guided it up around your waist and held it tight with his left hand. "I'd love to fuck you like this, Doctor Sugar," he whispered, running his nose behind your ear. "But with the finesse and restraint I did not possess when I was a student."

"Oh my god, Bradley!" Your voice sounded lighter than air in this small room, your bodies only lit up by the exterior campus lights that filtered through the window. 

He looped one finger through the elastic of the tiny underwear you had on and started to yank it down over your hips, sucking in a harsh breath as you wiggled against him until they were sliding down your legs. Bradley watched the lace land on the tops of your high heels, and then he was unbuttoning and unzipping his pants with his right hand. He eased his pants and underwear down to his thighs and bent you a little bit at the waist with his large frame. 

"You're always soaking wet for me," he gasped as he reached around and slid his fingers against your slit. "You get like this for anyone else?"

"No!" you squeaked as he sunk two fingers inside you without any warning. 

"Just me? You'd get this wet if I was sitting in one of your classes, watching you teach? Soaking through your underwear, squeezing your thighs together in your short, little skirt?"

"Oh god, yes," you groaned, and he pumped his fingers in and out you hard, until you were practically screaming. 

When he slowed his pace again, stroking your clit, he told you, "I'd sit in your class and touch myself. I don't think I would be able to help it, Sugar." He held you firmly against him, pulling his fingers out and leaving you whining before coating his cock with your wetness. He nudged your legs apart with his knee and then guided himself to your entrance, your body welcoming him so sweetly as he bottomed out in one movement. 

Your head was tipped back, and he ran his slick fingers up your neck and between your parted lips. The feel of your tongue swirling along his fingertips and the vibrations of your moans had him shoving his fingers a little deeper. You moaned and whined as you cleaned his fingers while he fucked you at a steady pace. 

"What would I have to do to get an A in your class, Doctor Sugar?" You sucked on his fingers for another beat before he removed them from your mouth and grasped your chin instead. 

"I'd make you stay after class," you gasped. "Watch you touch yourself for me."

"Fuck, fuck!" Bradley growled, slamming into you harder, his left hand gripping your hip. He pulled you by your chin and the front of your neck, arching your back until you were whimpering, meeting his movements stroke for stroke. He could feel you fluttering around him, and he eased his big hand down over your breasts and your tummy until they met your clit. He gave you a sharp squeeze, and this time you did scream before he soothed you with his fingers. 

"I'm gonna cum," you cried, squeezing around him, but Bradley withdrew completely and spun you to face him. You looked up at him, shocked, and he pushed you back to sit on your desk, grabbing your thighs and thrusting into you again. 

You leaned back on both hands, eyes on his as your legs shook gently in his hands. Bradley leaned down and kissed you softly, and you smiled against his lips. He moved a little slower as you came for him, drawing out your orgasm and sucking on your neck as you chanted his name like a prayer. 

Then you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him snug against you as his thrusts grew shallow. "You gonna cum for me, Beer Boy? You gonna earn top marks? Be the teacher's pet?" you purred. And he kissed your mouth and your cheeks and your chin, memorizing the feel of your lips against his mustache as you whined. 

He filled you up, moving inside you until he was no longer dizzy with need. Bradley took your face gently in his hands, satisfied and so in love with you. 

"Sugar," he whispered, your body still intimately connected with his. "I l-"

There was a loud knock on the door. "Hello? It's Ted. From security."

"Oh shit," you hissed, sliding off the desk and shimmying your dress back down. You looked so alarmed, Bradley had to stifle his laughter as he zipped up his pants and straightened out the rest of his suit. Then he groaned when you turned on the overhead lights. 

"Uh, hang on, Ted!" you called, kicking your underwear loose from your shoes. Bradley bent and picked them up, shoving them into his pocket as you opened the door a few inches. "Hi, Ted!"

Bradley heard the security guard's voice. "Oh, it's you, professor! I heard a lot of noise, and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Everything is fine!"

There was a pause, and Bradley watched your shoulders tense up. "Are you alone?" Ted asked. "If you're not okay, I can help you."

You sighed deeply and tipped your head back before pushing the door open wide, revealing Bradley where he was leaning against your desk with both hands in his pockets. 

"Hey, Ted," he said with a smile, and he got to watch the much older man flush crimson as he looked back and forth between the two of you. "Everything is just fine in here."

You pressed your lips together and also nodded at Ted. 

"Right, okay, well. You have a great night, professor," he told you before tucking his radio back into his pocket and hustling away.

You turned to look at Bradley with your hand over your mouth, and Bradley started absolutely cracking up. "Sorry, Sugar, but Ted's never going to look at you the same way again."

You lightly hit his abs, and Bradley pulled you into his arms. "I guess it's a good thing I'm technically only working here for two more weeks," you groaned against his neck. "Poor Ted." Then you were laughing harder in his arms, and soon neither of you could stop. 

Eventually, Bradley tilted your smiling face up to look at him. "I'm going to miss you so much, Sugar."

Your smile wavered a bit. "Can you stay longer?" you asked softly. "A few more days?"

He just shook his head and stroked your lip. "I'm leaving for a six week deployment on Monday."

"Oh," you sighed so sadly that Bradley immediately wanted to tell you he could stay for another week. Another month, just to be with you. 

"Sorry, Sugar."

You took his hand in yours. "Then can we go back to my house? And snuggle?"

"Please."

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

Thanks for reading and loving these two! I just loved the texts with Phoenix! Beer Boy and Sugar have one more night together.... Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

PART 6

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