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zorrasucia · 10 months

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Teach Me Tonight - Part 1

Part 1: [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Masturbation, Mutual masturbation, P in V sex, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary: He scratched his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassment taking over desire. "Would you teach me? How to- I wanna make you feel good."

It had all started five months ago.

You had finally found a good spot for your vintage clothing store. It used to be a bar, right next to a sandwich place called The Beef. Things lined up so that the new restaurant, The Bear, opened a week before your store did. You were thankful - fine dining brought just the kind of business you wanted.

After weeks of eyeing the delicious looking desserts through the window, you decided to close early and get one of each and a coffee.

"You have a sweet tooth, huh?" the server joked amicably. "Have I seen you around?"

"I own the store next door," you replied.

"Of course!" he smiled. Then added: "Do you sell anything denim?"

You eyed his all black suit, guessing his size.

"Yeah, I just got a few pieces you might like."

"Oh, it's not for me," he laughed. "I've been telling my cousin to visit for weeks but he hasn't listened. I'll send him your way tomorrow."

You hadn't thought much of it. But the next day the cousin showed up. He was short, pretty, with blue eyes and built like a brick house.

"Carmen," he offered you his hand to shake; his arms were covered in tattoos.

"Your cousin said you are looking for vintage denim?"

"Yeah."

You showed him the new arrivals and a few of the most popular pieces - everybody wanted Levi's 501s. But he surprised you asking about specific models and the lining on jackets. You didn't know it at the time but Carmy found a way into your heart and mind from the moment you met him.

He was smart without being cocky, with an offbeat sense of humor and the nicest profile you had ever seen. He started bringing you (exquisite) leftovers for your lunch, stopping sometimes for a little talk. You called him to show whatever new pieces arrived to the store. It became a thing.

You were friends until you weren't. Until he got comfortable enough to touch your hand and hug you. Until you got the nerve to ask him out and kiss him.

It had been three months of seeing each other as much as your schedules allowed, kissing at closing time and talking way too much about jeans.

Today was a rare instance of Carmy taking the day off from the restaurant, and even rarer that it had lined up with yours. The afternoon was spent in your living room, eating take out from his favorite place, your legs on his lap, talking about the frantic week he'd had and your plans of going to a estate sale next weekend. You ended up tangled on your bed making out, the song of the city playing outside your window, his tongue eager in your mouth and your hands carding through his hair. You felt electric, like anything Carmy did could light the spark within you. You writhed in his embrace and found that Carmy was hard against your hip, grinding slightly.

"Are we doing this?" you asked against his mouth. You were leaning back and pulling him towards you.

"Now?" he sounded surprised.

"I mean, yeah," you chuckled. It felt right. And you had thought about it for weeks. But he seemed genuinely taken aback so you added: "If you want."

There was a long silence. Was it too soon? You looked away, feeling mortified - this was all a mistake. You tried to disentangle yourself from Carmy's embrace to give him space but he held on tighter.

"No, I do, I want to," he said softly. "It's just-"

His thumb soothed the skin on your cheek and you realized he wasn't surprised, not really. His eyes were half lidded - it was a weird look on him, a combination of embarrassment and desire.

"Do you like kinky stuff? Is that it? Because we can talk about it-" you stopped in your tracks when you saw his face contort into a grimace. "Sorry."

"It's fine," he reassured. "Actually it's the opposite problem," he mumbled. "I'm- I'm new to this. I have done none of it. Ever," he confessed. You caressed the hair on his temples.

"Oh. That's okay," you said and he avoided your gaze. You tilted your head to look him in the eye. "It is. I promise."

"Would you-" he scratched his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassment taking over desire. "Would you teach me? How to- I wanna make you feel good."

You smiled. "I mean, sure, but hopefully we'll both feel good."

He laughed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. You settled on the bed, lying face to face, just kissing, taking your time, warming the space between you once again. Carmy followed the pace you had set, his lips were gentle against yours. There was a nervousness to him though, he was too still. You took one of his hands and placed it on your chest, cupping your breast over your shirt. He gasped into your mouth and paused the kiss.

"Just touch me," you nuzzled your nose against his. "Anywhere you like."

His hands hovered above you, settling on your waist, lifting your shirt a little. His fingers were cold and you shivered.

"Sorry- I-" he stopped.

"Hey, you're just a little cold," you kissed his cheek and ran your hands over his chest and around his shoulders reassuringly. "I'll let you know if anything feels wrong."

"Promise?"

You nodded and placed his hand back on your waist. His fingers tickled up your sides and you hummed contentedly even though your clothes were getting in the way.

"Want to take it off?" you asked.

You lifted your arms so that he could push the blouse off of you. He cleared his throat at the sight of you, his eyes wider than you had ever seen them, and you could feel yourself melting into his beautiful hands as he touched and touched.

"Can I?" you had started tugging at the hem of his pristine, white shirt.

"Yeah," he replied breathlessly. You helped him out of it, and started tracing the lines of muscle on his arms.

"You're so beautiful," you said and he flushed down to his neck, the way he looked after a long day in the kitchen.

"Well, right back at you," he replied earnestly. "Wh- What should I do next?"

"Kiss my neck?" you proposed. He nodded eagerly and buried his face in the crook of your neck. "Keep going," you pleaded.

His hair tickled you as he went down your collarbone and the top of your breasts. You trembled with pleasure. This was new to him but also new to you. You had gotten used to men that never asked what you liked - this was different. Nice.

"I'll show you something," you guided Carmy's hands to your back, over the clasp of your bra. "There's a hook back there, feel it?"

"I think so," he furrowed his brows in concentration.

"You bring the sides together and it opens," it took him a couple of tries but he managed. "Good," you praised and Carmy smiled wide, carefully taking it off.

He continued kissing down, noticing how your breath hitched when he got close to your nipples.

"Feels good?" he asked, his breath on your skin hardened your nipples and made you arch your back.

"Yeah," you carded a hand through his hair, keeping him close and moaning when he kissed each side.

His lips and hands roamed all over your chest, so diligently, so thoroughly, that you thought you might come from that alone. Your thighs kept rubbing close together to find some relief. Carmy saw you and placed a hand on your hip.

"Show me," he said.

You took one of his tattooed hands and placed it between your legs, arching into it. His fingers pressed around aimlessly. It wasn't terrible but it wasn't good either.

"I have an idea," you said after a little while. Carmy looked up at you. "Come, let's sit."

He settled with his back to the headboard while you undressed all the way. Then, you sat between his legs, your back to his chest.

"This is nice," Carmy said softly, one of his strong arms surrounding you. You put his hand back between your open legs, his fingers over yours.

"I'm going to touch myself the way I like it," you explained, your index already tracing the outlines of your folds. "And then you try."

Carmy cleared his throat behind you. "Okay."

You closed your eyes, focused on the feeling of Carmy around you - his sculpted chest to your back, his long fingers echoing every move you made, and his breath caressing the side of your face. Carmy's hands were bigger than yours, more calloused - the feeling of them, almost in unison with yours, was making you dizzy.

"Here," both of your middle fingers touched your clit. You moaned. "Here is good."

"I can hear that," he teased.

When your hand moved around, his stayed there, drawing tiny circles on it.

"Oh," you gasped in surprise and pleasure. Your free hand started squeezing at your breast only to be replaced with his other hand. "Fuck," you cursed under your breath as he kept going. "That's good. That's so good. Don't stop."

"Wouldn't dare," he managed to say.

He sounded just as worked up as you were, his breathing laboured. You could feel his nose buried deep in your hair and his erection poking at your back. He started grinding against you, and you leaned into it a little. He groaned.

"Please," he begged.

You reached behind, palming him over his trousers. It was hard to keep a steady pace from that angle and he was already making you lose control but you tried.

"Shit, shit," he fucked into your hand, messy and desperate, every sound from his mouth pushing you over the edge.

"Carmy," you called his name over and over as your orgasm washed over you. It was hot, blinding, and it made it hard to breathe. You realized Carmy had come too once you regained your bearings and found the bit of his trousers you were holding was damp and warm.

He rested his forehead on the side of your face.

"I could die right now," he mumbled, blissed out.

You hummed in agreement. You stayed in content silence for a while, Carmy's arm keeping you close and his thumb caressing your shoulder.

"We can go over the rest next time," you offered.

"I, uh," he shifted where he sat, "I kinda hoped I'd see you when..."

You twisted a little to look at him. He was back to that embarrassed-horny state, cheeks flushed.

"See me...?" you prompted.

"When you came."

"Oh!" you touched his thighs gently. "I mean, if you can go again-"

"Yeah," he chuckled breathlessly. "Yeah. Just give me a minute."

"Alright."

You got up from the bed to rummage through your bedside table for condoms. You placed them by your pillow. When you turned, you found Carmy with his eyes closed, his brow furrowed, one hand caressing his neck and one on his crotch, moaning softly. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen. You got back on the bed in front of him, and reached for the closure of his trousers. He stopped abruptly.

"Shhh," you soothed. "Keep going. I'm only taking these off."

"Thanks," he replied.

You took his trousers and boxer briefs off, trying your best to not stop his rhythm. He took his cock in his hand and started caressing the head.

"You look so fucking hot, Carmy." He let out a chuckle and picked up a little speed. "Can I help?" you asked after a while.

"You don't have to-"

"I want to," you said. You moved to kneel beside him and started kissing his neck, mirroring his hand on the other side. Then, you pulled on the hair on his nape. You could feel the vibrations on his throat when he moaned.

"So nice," he said softly.

"What else? Tell me what you'd like me to do."

"Just touch me, please," he echoed your reply from before.

You did. Over his chest, flicking at his nipples, down his stomach following the trail of hair and back up, your nails leaving red lines in their wake. Carmy was already hard again but you still wanted to give him pleasure, so you put your hand next to his on his cock and he groaned.

"Slow, please," he begged.

You moved on the bed until you were between his muscular thighs.

"Let me know if you want me to stop," you said right before you kissed the tip of his cock and made him growl.

You left small pecks wherever his hand couldn't reach - the inside of his thighs, the curls under his navel, and his head again. Then, you licked along his shaft.

"Stop," he pleaded, the veins on his throat were bulging, his hand had stilled completely. "I still want to fuck you."

"Okay," you cupped his face tenderly. There was something vulnerable about him that you had only seen a couple of times. "Had you imagined anything?"

"Uh, not really," he hesitated. "Just you. I want to see you."

"We could do it like this," you proposed, nudging his legs close so that you could straddle him. He was still leaning against the headboard. "Either you or I can take over, so-" you let it float, the reassurance that you were there for him but he could do as much as he was comfortable with.

"Yeah. Sounds- sounds great," he ran his hands over your bare back.

You reached out for the condom beside him.

"May I?" you touched his thigh reassuringly. He nodded. "So, opening these with your teeth looks sexy but it's dumb as fuck because you can break it," you explained, maneuvering the wrapper carefully. Then, you rolled it over his length, his head tilting back with a moan. "There's flavored shit, and textured ones. We can try some later, if you want."

"Later," he smiled, the idea of more nights together but also the need he had for you right now - his pupils were blown.

So you got closer, hovering just above his cock.

"You can use lube too," you whispered. "But I'm soaking for you," Carmy groaned, "so we won't need that right now."

You lined him up to your entrance and lowered yourself slowly, your hands holding his shoulders for support. He felt so right inside of you, filling you up, hurting just enough. His jaw went slack as you took him completely.

"Holy fucking shit," he cursed, head tilted back, exposing his neck so you could lick up and kiss his Adam's apple. He tasted like sweat and sex. "You're killing me."

You grinned devilishly. "I'll start slow."

You started riding him, the pace was almost gentle. He buried his face between your breasts and held you close. You felt safe, cared for, adored. Was this what lovemaking felt like?

Carmy started to leave sloppy kisses on your skin, using his teeth in some of them. You started picking up speed, holding tight to the back of his neck.

"You feel perfect," Carmy said against your skin. "Fucking perfect."

You moaned in response, it sounded whiny and desperate. He seemed to love it, trying to make you repeat that sound by kissing your nipples and touching your clit.

"Jesus, Carmy."

You didn't know how long you'd be able to keep the frantic rhythm you had set, your legs were already shaking. Feeling you falter, he started fucking into you, hard thrusts that hit you just right and made you scream. He stopped.

"Are you okay?" he asked, mortified.

"I'm fine, Carmy, I swear. Please, please, keep fucking me," you begged. And he did. And you were becoming more of a mess as he did.

"You're doing so good, Carm. So fucking good. You feel-" you let sweet nothings burst out of your lips. It made him go faster and harder. You wouldn't last long.

"I'm- Carmy, I'm going to come," you mumbled.

"Look at me, please," he ran his hands over your spine, soothing even as he fucked you. His blue eyes searched for yours. "Look at me."

You held his gaze as long as you could, your nails digging into his shoulders and every thrust making it harder to think. All of a sudden, you went slack and fell on him, trembling with pleasure, and seeing stars. A few more thrusts and he came too, biting on your shoulder to drown a scream. You stayed there, breathing hard for a little while.

"Is it always like that?" he asked. His voice was hoarse and his hair was wet with sweat.

"No," you replied. "No, it isn't."

"Good to know," he quipped and you laughed. You untangled yourself from Carmy, leaning back to see him, his droopy eyes and blissful face.

"Fuck," he said. "You are so beautiful."

You traced the curve of his nose with your finger. "Right back at you."

[Part 2]

#this one goes to the girlies that got stuck without ao3 #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction

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nanamiya3 · 9 months

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Hello! As an SA survivor, I really appreciated your story with Naoya. My comfort character is Nanami and I was wondering if you could write something similar? Where reader has an anxiety attack bc of her trauma and finally tells nanami about it? She’s worried that he won’t accept her and nanami reminds her he’ll never do that. It’s a heavy topic so I completely understand if you want to pass on this! I appreciate your writing regardless so thank you for taking the time to write & post these stories :)

hii! i'm sorry it's taken me so long to respond (can you believe my last post was almost half a year ago :0) but thank you for the ask! i made this absurdly long because i love backstories but i hope you like it :)

nanami x fem reader (she/her pronouns used) - fluff & comfort - pet names (darling, sweetheart, baby) - wc. 7.7k

please note that there are mentions of SA (nothing explicit/graphic) after the little "exhibit" sections are over. if you aren't comfortable with mentions of past SA (ex: nanami asking if someone has "hurt" reader) please don't read past the little "exhibit" scenarios or don't read/expand the post at all :) again, it's pure fluff in the "exhibit a, b, c" parts, after that SA is discussed/alluded to

Nanami Kento is an exceedingly patient man.

Exhibit A: The time you were an hour late to your first date.

—

“Come on, just trust me on this one!” Shoko exclaims as she pelts you with blueberries—your blueberries.

“Hey!” You glare at your best friend, snatching the bowl of fruit away before any more berries end up on the floor. “Do you know how much blueberries cost these days? They’re not in season right now and—”

“Blah blah,” Shoko sticks her tongue out at you. “I’m not saying you have to marry him.. It’s just one date!” She pauses, tone becoming uncharacteristically serious. “I’ve been friends with him since high school… He’s a really nice guy, very respectful.”

“Oh?” You quirk an eyebrow at your roommate, laughter bubbling over your lips. “Very respectful,” you’re giggling now, “I’m sure he’s veryy respectful.”

Shoko groans, hands scrubbing at her face. “You’re unbelievable—I need a cigarette,” she mutters.

“You’re unbelievable! You’re a med student who smokes!” you cry out, flinging an accusatory finger at her.

Shoko just snorts, waving a dismissive hand in your direction as she pats at her pockets for her lighter. “I’m serious though, I think he would be good for you.”

“Sure, he’s exactly what I need,” you reply dryly. “What was his name again? Nanami something—”

“Kento,” Shoko chimes in.

“—Nanami Kento,” you finish, twirling a blueberry between your thumb and index finger. “I’m sure he’s a great person. But you know there’s a reason why I’m never home when your guy friends are over…” You trail off, shrugging as if you’re unbothered, but Shoko sees the way your brows furrow and lips tremble. “Plus, I’m too busy with my dissertation and research to try to have a life,” you huff, easing the tension with some lighthearted humor, popping the berry into your mouth.

Shoko rolls her eyes at you good-naturedly, waggling her brows as she tries to lift your spirits. “What if I showed you a picture of him?”

Two photos, a not-so-slick mention of Nanami’s height by Shoko, and a sworn testament to his upstanding character later, you fold.

You, 6:47 PM

hey! i’m running late right now, there was an emergency at the lab. can we push the date from 7 to 8? i’m really sorry :(

Nanami Kento, 6:50 PM

Yes, of course. I hope everything is okay, take as long as you need.

You, 6:51 PM

thank you so much! again, i’m really sorry. i should be there by 8 :)

Nanami reads your text, slipping his phone into his pocket as he sighs. He had already arrived at the restaurant by the time he saw your first message—it’s too late to leave and come back now. He takes a seat in the waiting area, glancing at the bouquet in his lap. Shoko had threatened to break both his legs if he so much as breathed at you wrong tonight—he hopes you won’t find the flowers too much for a first date.

Nanami thinks back to what he knows about you. He remembers the first time he was at Shoko’s place: you were nowhere in sight (much to the dismay of Gojo, who kept asking Shoko to play matchmaker for him), but Shoko just explained that you were studying late at the library. Every time after that, it was another excuse: Shoko’s roommate can’t come because she’s busy in the lab, busy at the library, busy writing her dissertation, busy running simulations, busy reading papers, busy being a TA, busy meeting with her advisor. He’s only seen you once while at your apartment, and that was because he accidentally walked into your room thinking it was the bathroom: You’d been hunched over your desk, back to the door, and Nanami had immediately walked right back out into the hallway upon his realization that bathrooms didn’t usually contain beds and desks, shutting the door as quickly as possible so as to not disturb you. You hadn’t even turned around by the time he was gone.

That was the first and last time Nanami Kento ever saw you. At least until last week, when he received a text from Shoko detailing your contact info and a winky face, phone lighting up with a call from your roommate moments later.

“Hello?”

“Kentoooo!!! Guess what??” Shoko’s voice is all high pitched and giggly, barely containing her excitement.

Nanami thinks he knows exactly what she’s up to. “What is it?” he ventures.

“My roommate just agreed to go on a date! With you!!” Shoko’s glee is apparent, even through the tinny speaker on Nanami’s phone. “I just sent—”

“I never asked her out,” Nanami cuts in. He’s frowning slightly: not entirely opposed to the idea, just hoping Shoko hasn’t gone and planned your marriage without his knowledge.

Shoko’s sigh echoes loudly over the line, and Nanami winces at the earful he’s sure to be in for. “I know,” she’s rolling her eyes now. “That’s why—if you would just let me finish my sentence—I sent you her number so you could ask her yourself.”

Nanami’s quiet for a moment, thinking it over before he asks, “Why are you doing this?”

Shoko doesn’t miss a beat. “Because you’re both losers with no lives,” she laughs a little at her own joke, then slowly considers her next words. “And… I think you would treat her well—I know you would be good to her, and she deserves that.”

Nanami can tell how much Shoko cares about you, from the way she spoke about you to the way she threatened to buy 51% of his start up’s shares and tank the company if he ever hurt you. Yeah, he really hopes you don’t think he’s coming on too strong with the flowers.

So, Nanami sits in the restaurant patiently, checking his phone ever so often to make sure he hasn’t missed any messages from you, smiling and telling the hostess he’d like to wait a while longer to be seated. And when you do show up—17 minutes earlier than expected—he’s all smiles and reassurances. You’re feeling (and looking) frazzled, apologies spilling out from your mouth like a dam let loose as you follow him and the hostess to your table. But Nanami’s the quintessential gentleman: waving away your guilt and apologetic expression, pulling your chair out for you, handing you the beautiful arrangement of flowers, pouring you a glass of water to help calm you down, insisting you call him Kento.

And though most people wince and attempt to change the topic when you talk research, Kento’s patient as he listens to your ramblings on the roadblocks you face, the students you have to teach, the lack of common sense in the lab. He makes a point to ask questions about your research, finding it interesting because you find it interesting, loving the way your face lights up when you get to describe the implications of your findings.

You hate to admit it, already hearing Shoko’s “I told you so!” in your head as you think to yourself, but Nanami Kento might just be exactly what you need.

—

Exhibit B: The time you spent 4 consecutive days with your head in a toilet bowl.

—

Shoko Ieri, 1:58 PM

dude, what the hell are you doing right now???

Nanami Kento, 2:01 PM

What do you mean? I’m working.

Shoko Ieri, 2:01 PM

what could possibly be so important with your company that you’d be working right now??

Nanami Kento, 2:02 PM

It’s 2 PM on a Monday… Am I not supposed to be working right now?

Shoko Ieri, 2:02 PM

you’re so fucking dense you would sink in the dead sea. your girlfriend has been throwing up all day and you’re WORKING?

Nanami Kento, 2:02 PM

Throwing up? What do you mean??

**Incoming call from Nanami Kento**

“Hey assho—”

“What do you mean she’s been throwing up all day?” Kento’s voice is tinged with urgency and worry. “Is she okay? Are you there with her? Can you check her temperature? I’ll be there in—”

“Dude,” Shoko cuts in, “Don’t act like you didn’t know. There’s no way you didn’t know—I mean she’s been hurling like crazy since this morning, and you’re an asshole for not checking up on her.”

Kento’s shocked, and still extremely worried, trying to just get Shoko to focus so he can make sure you’re okay. “I really didn’t know, Ieri, she hasn’t texted me at all today.” His voice is strained, concern evident in his tone. “Please tell me you’re at home with her—is she okay?”

“Well…” Shoko considers how to best put your condition so as to not cause Kento a heart attack, a little confused on why you didn’t tell him anything. “She’s been throwing up pretty steadily throughout the day and she’s got a pretty bad fever.”

“How bad are we talking? I’m driving over right now.”

“104 degrees… 104.6 last I checked,” Shoko winces as she says it, knowing how bad it sounds.

“Oh my god.” The absolute terror in Kento’s voice makes Shoko wince even harder. “Ieri, we need to get her to a hospital—this is serious.”

Shoko shakes her head, reporting dejectedly, “She won’t go. I tried a couple hours ago but she said she doesn’t get paid enough by the school to afford an emergency visit.”

Kento’s at a loss for words.

“She said she’ll be fine since I’m ‘basically a doctor,’” Shoko finishes bitterly.

“T-that’s not… You’re not… Y-you’re just a med student—that’s not the same thing—” Kento thinks he might have a heart attack.

“I know, I know,” Shoko sighs. “But, I don’t think it’s anything too bad. She isn’t throwing up blood, her breath and heart rate are both pretty stable, and she was conscious enough to talk back to me when I tried to get her to the hospital.”

“Okay,” Kento says as he takes deep breaths, trying to not think about you dying or suffering or—“Okay. Okay. Okay. I’ll be there soon, then. We can talk later.”

“Alright. Drive safe—I don’t need another patient to look after,” Shoko jokes before hanging up.

5 minutes later, a stressed Nanami Kento is on your doorstep, rushing in as soon as Shoko answers the door, barely listening to what she’s saying as he moves towards your room. And then he’s inside, kneeling before your bed as his eyes dart over your figure, murmuring a gentle, “Hi baby, how are you feeling?”

You blink your eyes open, trying to pull yourself out of that feverish fog blanketing your mind as you slowly register who’s in your line of sight. No… It can’t be. How did he find out? He’s not supposed to be here—you didn’t tell him for a reason.

“Ken?…” You rub at your eyes, sitting up with a whimper as a wave of nausea hits you square in the stomach. “W-why are you here?”

“Because somebody told me you have a 104 fever, and it wasn’t you,” Kento tuts, tone disapproving but eyes gentle.

“Ieri…” you mumble, shaking your head slightly.

“Ieri,” he confirms, shaking his own head—this time at you. “We’ll talk more about that later… Right now, I need to make sure my darling is feeling okay.”

Your mind is still foggy, but your lips quirk up into a small smile as you tease in a small voice, “Your darling is feeling superb.” You give him a weak thumbs up and cheesy grin. “I feel great.”

“Really? Because there’s a bit of vomit on your chin right now,” Kento deadpans, secretly relieved you’re feeling well enough to joke.

And then you cry out in mock outrage, regretting it almost immediately as you clutch at your middle, the outburst costing you a fit of spasms and pain in your stomach. Kento’s mood sobers instantly as he gently rubs at your back, asks if there’s anything he can do for you, adjusting the pillows behind you to help ease you into a more comfortable position.

“You should go,” you whisper as you reach up to grip his hand.

“Now why would I do that?” Kento asks, smiling softly as he feels your hold on his hand tighten.

You turn your face into the pillows, mumbling out a muffled, “I’m sick… and gross. I can’t let you see me like this.” You groan, turning your head back to look at your boyfriend as you caution, “And you’re going to get sick.”

Kento just smiles as he cups your hand between his own. “You never look gross, and I won’t get sick because I don’t overwork myself.”

You huff out a tired sigh, weakly swatting at the hands wrapped around your own as you slur, “It’s rude to torment the sick and dying,” and turn on your side to face the wall—away from your amused caretaker.

For the next three days, Kento—with the help of Shoko, (not quite) M.D.—looks after you as you miraculously manage to regurgitate every bit of sustenance you consume. He’s cleaned that metal “throw-up” bowl on your nightstand—meant to be used in case you couldn’t get to the bathroom in time—more times that he can count. He’s changed your sheets, helped you to the bathroom, and dutifully cooked light soups and stews, spooning them into your mouth before inevitably patting your back reassuringly as you throw it up into the toilet. Most of all, he’s poked and prodded you with that goddamn thermometer: if you had the strength to, you’d steal it right out of his hands and tell him to quit being a mother hen.

But Kento just can’t help his worrying. To take care of you, he’s been staying the night over, sleeping on that couch in the living room he’s definitely too large for. Even Shoko feels a little bad for him, watching him dutifully set alarms for every other hour so he can check up on you throughout the night. The two of them work in tandem to make sure you’re okay, combining the power of Shoko’s education with Kento’s sheer stress to maximize your care.

And when you finally come to—when the haze clouding your thoughts finally clears—he’s just as patient and gentle as he has been over the past few days.

“You’ve gotta stop overworking yourself, sweetheart,” Kento murmurs into the top of your head.

“I can rest when I’m dead,” you protest, twisting from your position on his chest to make a show out of the dramatic wink you send his way.

Kento groans. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he says with a sigh, helping you curl back up on top of him.

You giggle, breath fanning out against his collarbone, amused by Kento’s exasperation. “Thanks for taking care of me though, Ken. You’re the best,” you whisper softly, turning to pressing a kiss against his neck.

“Of course, darling,” he replies quietly, voice full of love. Then, louder, feigning nonchalance, Kento announces, “But if you don’t start taking better care of yourself, you’ll be on your own, and I’ll just watch from a distance and say ‘I told you so’ when you get sick.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me!” you pout, frowning at the thought of him purposely ignoring you.

Kento sighs, pretending to be upset, “You’re right. I wouldn’t do that.” He reports dejectedly, “I just love you too much,” practically able to feel your smile at his words against his skin. “But—” he leans down and tilts your head up to look at him, thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place to maintain steady eye contact. “—the next time you’re sick or in need of help, you’ll tell me directly.” His voice is serious, as firm as his grip on your chin and it makes you nervous, like you’re in trouble, eyes darting around to avoid his gaze. “No trying to hide it, no making me worry. I shouldn’t have found out about your fever from Ieri—you should have told me yourself. I don’t want you hiding things from me, especially if it’s about your health and well-being. Got it?”

You’ve tensed up against Kento, heart hammering in your throat as you feel a wave of guilt wash over you. His free hand moves to soothe your back—trying to show that he’s not angry with you—as he drops his hand from your chin, eyes tracking the way you hang your head to avoid looking at him.

And then, after a bout of anxiousness, you nod, stealing a glance up at Kento to gauge his mood as you start, “I’m sorry, Ken, I didn’t mean to worry you.” You take a deep breath before you continue, “I just didn’t want to bother you. I knew you’d drop everything if you heard I was sick and it wouldn’t have been fair for me to take advantage of you like that.” You pick at a piece of lint on his shirt, avoiding catching his eye and aiming for humor as you add, “And nobody wants to watch their partner throw up, it’s gross. I couldn’t let you fall out of love with me like that.”

Kento cracks a smile. “Darling, if you think throwing up in front of me is going to make me stop loving you, I need to do a much better job of showing you how much you mean to me.”

You huff out a laugh at that, but he’s not done, cupping your hands with his own as he looks down at you. “And you’re never a bother, baby, ever. I’m never going to be upset with you for letting me know you’re not feeling well—and you won’t be ‘taking advantage’ of me by letting me know. It’s my own choice to take care of you and it makes me happy to do it.”

You’re looking down at where Kento’s hands are wrapped around your own, but you nod, letting his words sink in as you duck your head back down into the crook of his neck. “Thanks, Ken,” you whisper, trying to hide how relieved and emotional him saying that makes you feel. “That means… a lot to me. I’ll promise I won’t hide things from you anymore.”

Your boyfriend smiles, replying with a soft “good girl” as he runs his thumb along the back of your hand. He’s glad you’re opening up, and as you doze off on him, exhausted from your past couple of days and lulled to sleep by the comfortable silence and gentle caresses, he feels a surge of affection settle over his heart.

—

Exhibit C: The time you he won a stuffed lion at the fair.

—

Today is a special day. There are no papers to grade, no students to teach, no presentations or talks to prepare, and your research has reached a point where you can confidently take a few days off to rest. Naturally, you decide to optimize this golden opportunity by doing only the essentials: Scheduling a long overdue doctor’s appointment, deep cleaning your apartment, spending as much time with Kento as possible, going to the fair…. Just the essentials!

So—essentially—you’re at the fair with Kento, ignoring your ever growing list of responsibilities in favor of overpriced food and rigged carnival games. Kento’s already sporting a large tote on one shoulder, ready to collect all the prizes you’re eager to win.

Three hours, six stuffed animals, a pizza, two churros, a basket of fries, five rides, and a petting zoo later, you find yourself surveying the prizes on display in front of the cursed ring toss.

“Awww, Ken look at that one!” You’re pointing to a stuffed lion sitting amongst the prizes. “It kinda looks like you, don’t you think?”

The face Kento’s making right now can only be described as… distaste. “No… Love, I don’t see the resemblance.”

“No, no, no, look at the color! It looks just like your hair,” you exclaim, gasping and pointing once more as you realize, “Hey! It even has a little frown on its face! Do you see it Ken?”

“I don’t frown that often,” Kento says with a frown. “I’m quite happy when I’m with you.”

You burst into a fit of laughter, wishing he could have watched himself say that. “Sure, Ken,” you drawl, patting him on the shoulder as you get in line for the game, set on winning his lion-lookalike.

However, after 4 tries and an absurd amount of money, you decide to call for backup.

"Kennn," you singsong as you turn to look at him with big, pleading eyes. "Can you help me win this game?"

Kento's heart sinks, feeling conflicted. On the one hand, he'd do anything to make you happy. On the other hand, if he helps you win the lion, he'll spend the rest of his days hearing "Awww.. Isn't he just so cute?? He looks just like you, baby!" about a stuffed, over-evolved house cat.

But, in the end, the little angel on his shoulder (with a voice that sounds suspiciously similar to yours) wins. As Kento steps up for his try, he half considers putting no effort in and losing the game just so you won’t be able to correlate his good looks to a stuffed animal. Then, he (or maybe the little angel up there) decides he can’t do that to you—it would just be too cruel.

So, Kento gets ready for his turn: rolling his sleeves up, passing you the bag on his shoulder, and sighing without meaning to.

His first try is a failure. Each of the 5 rings supplied magically bounced off the bottlenecks, frustrating him to no end. “This game is rigged, sweetheart. We should find something else to play,” Kento grumbles, turning away from the booth with an irritated expression.

You shake your head, insisting, “But this is the only game we’ve seen that has that stuffed lion!” Then, you bring out the big guns, clasping your hands together and widening your eyes, begging, “Please, Ken..”

Aaaand…. He’s a goner, always so soft and willing when it comes to you.

Reinvigorated by your pleading and determined to make you happy, your boyfriend sets out on a mission to win you that stuffed lion.

After his first try, Kento sighs so hard you think you might physically feel the wind from it tickling at your forehead.

After his second try, Kento turns to you and drops a sweet little kiss on your nose to remind himself why he’s subjecting himself to this frustrating torture.

After his third try, Kento runs a hand through his hair, readjusting his sleeves with more force than necessary as he squints menacingly at the table of glass bottles.

After his fourth try, you tug at his wrist, telling him, “You don’t have to keep trying, Ken. It’s okay.” You feel guilty watching him get more and more frustrated, but he smiles, patting the back of your hand as he tells you it’s okay.

After his fifth try, Kento looks up at the stuffed lion as he takes a deep, calming breath, trying to stay focused on winning the prize and not how annoying this blatantly rigged game is.

After his sixth try, you’re seriously impressed by Kento’s ability to remain calm. You practically had steam coming out of your ears with each of your missed throws, but he’s taking this like a champ—maybe you’ll read some of his self help books to learn his ways.

After his seventh try, Kento curses under his breath, beginning to lose his cool.

After his eighth try, Kento thinks it might be time to start believing in a deity: Maybe he would have won on his first or second try with divine intervention on his side.

And then! After returning to purchase almost ten consecutive attempts and officially creeping out the worker managing the booth, Kento’s fourth ring finally finds its place around the neck of a bottle!!

You jump up and down and clap in celebration, elated by Kento’s victory. He immediately turns toward you, excitement written across his features as he wraps you up in a hug. You’re giggling and pressing kisses onto his cheek, murmuring thank you’s against his skin as you both grin ear to ear—both entirely too old to be so elated over a win at the carnival.

And even as you tease him, holding the stuffed toy up next to his face in comparison, he thinks his patience may have just paid off.

—

Nanami Kento is an exceedingly patient man.

That’s why, as you break down in front of him, he’s patient.

Just minutes ago, you’d been okay—you’d been more than okay. Seated on Kento’s lap, breath heavy as he scattered kisses across your face—moving from cheek to nose to lips to forehead—you’d been beyond okay.

Nothing had been too out of the ordinary: though Kento wasn’t a voracious and demanding lover, the two of you had shared more than a fair amount of kisses and “makeout sessions.” And you enjoyed these kisses, these “sessions,” but you also enjoyed keeping it at that, never progressing further than a few wandering touches and a lost shirt or two. Kento, always happy to follow your lead, to respect your boundaries, would never press further when you’d break away and ask to go to bed, to watch the movie, to cook dinner together.

Tonight, you planned on spending the night together at Kento’s apartment. Falling asleep and waking up next to Kento might be one of your favorite things in the world: his hair is always perfectly mussed, voice deep and raspy, and touch gentle and loving. You always wake up happy and warm all over when you feel his arm around your middle, breath hot on your ear as he murmurs a low “Good morning, darling.”

So, you show up at Kento’s place at around 6, a bag of groceries on your arm, just like usual. The two of you work together in the kitchen, each spoon feeding the other small taste-tests, just like usual. Dinner is a quiet, romantic affair, intimate and sweet, just like usual. After the wining and dining, you two curl up in bed and watch an episode of that show you’re slowly making your way through together, just like usual.

And when you end up straddling him, TV already shut off, fingers gently twisting in his soft, golden hair, Kento thinks he can get used to this being added to your usual. His hands are splayed out across your back, keeping you close to his chest as he smiles into your swollen, kiss-bitten lips. And when he starts dropping sweet little kisses—like a saint delivering small blessings—all over your face, who are you to hold back that little whimper in the back of your throat? Who is Kento to deny the surge of desire flaring low in his stomach at your reactions? His hands slip underneath your shirt, playing with the band of your bra as you squirm against him and tilt your head up to kiss him again. He moves further—further than he’s ever gone with you—and runs a finger along the underside of the waistband of your pants, brushing a knuckle against the soft skin of your pelvis.

That’s when everything changes.

The second you feel Kento touch you lower than your stomach you freeze up, jerking away from the soft kiss you’d been caught up in. Your eyes go wide and you scramble off of his lap, breath frantic as you try to calm the spike of panic blurring your senses. You’re trying to keep an eye on Kento—on his movements and expressions and demeanor—but it’s hard with how suddenly you’ve become overwhelmed and it makes you feel scared, the way you don’t know what exactly he’s going to do next.

It was just one touch, it’s okay. He doesn’t know, he didn’t mean it, he wasn’t trying to... It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s—

“Sweetheart? Are you okay? I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay,” Kento tries to soothe you, but you look at him like you’re… scared of him and he hates himself for frightening you so bad.

What happened?

He thinks he might have an idea of what may have set you off, and as your breathing becomes more and more erratic, he begins to worry.

“Baby,” Kento starts, tone gentle. “Has someone ever… hurt you like this? By touching you?”

The way you flinch at his words is enough to confirm his suspicions, but Kento stays quiet, waiting for you to respond.

You don’t want to tell him. Your eyes keep darting around, nervous gaze cast down onto the blanket as you think about how you should lie—

But, wait. You promised Kento that you wouldn’t hide things from him, that you’d tell him things about your health and well-being. You really shouldn’t lie to him, not about this, but you really don’t want to tell him.

You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to say that it was your fault, that maybe you deserved it. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to start treating you like you’re dirty or shameful, like an embarrassing secret. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to get angry at you for not telling him sooner, because maybe he wouldn’t have loved you all this time—wasted all this time—if he knew. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to tell you that it isn’t a big deal, that you don’t have a right to be so upset over something like this, that you’re overreacting. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want to ruin this peaceful little thing between you and him with your own issues and nightmares. You don’t want to tell him because—

Crap. You’ve been stuck in your own head for too long. The air feels thick with an awkwardly long silence as you scramble to mash together an appropriate response, but Kento’s patient and he waits without judgement, kind eyes filled with worry.

And you really don’t want to tell him, eyes welling up with tears because you’re stressed and anxious and not sure about what you’re supposed to do.

Finally, you decide to just lie, choking out a pained, “No—” as hot tears spill over your cheeks. You feel horrible and guilty for lying, knowing that Kento has never been anything but upfront and honest with you, but you’ve never been as good and brave as him so you let the lie spread its wings and shield you.

Your breath is coming out in short, stuttered pants as you try to fight the wave of anxiety attempting to drown you, hands coming up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle your choked sobs.

You feel horrible.

You feel horrible for lying.

You feel horrible because you ruined the moment of fun you were having with Kento.

You feel horrible for this breakdown, even if you know you can’t help it, because Kento doesn’t deserve to have to deal with this baggage he didn’t ask for.

You feel horrible because being with Kento has helped you come so far out of your shell, but now it feels like it’s all been ruined, like no matter how much progress you make, you’ll never be able to fully heal, fully escape.

You feel horrible because you can’t get those memories out of your head.

You feel horrible because you keep thinking about the last time someone touched you where Kento did.

You feel horrible for ever correlating Kento and his goodness to that person, even if it’s just in your head, even if you can’t help it, even if it’s involuntary because you’re scared.

You just feel horrible. You feel horrible about everything. And when Kento reaches for you, moving to try and gently tug at your wrist, worried about your frantic breathing and the way you seem to be trying to stop your breathing altogether with your shaking hands, you feel even worse.

When you see Kento’s hand move toward your face, you flinch so hard you choke, gasping behind your palm as you squeeze your eyes shut, shoulders tightening up with fear. You’re so on edge right now and your vision is too blurry with tears to properly gauge if he’s angry at you or not, so you just figure he is. You figure he’s seen through your lie and he’s upset with you, upset for a multitude of reasons that just overwhelm you further. You figure that if your tears dried you’d look up and find an angry Kento looming above you, brows pulled low and lips stretched into a disgusted sneer.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Kento gently murmurs, pulling his hand back, interrupting your self-destructive thoughts. “I need you to take a few deep breaths with me—think you can do that for me baby?”

Numbly, through all the noise in your mind, you follow Kento’s voice like a lifeline, nodding with an uncoordinated jerk of your neck.

“Good girl,” he praises you kindly. “Now I’m gonna need you to move your hands away from your mouth,” Kento instructs, adding softly, “Gotta stop holding your breath sweetheart, gotta let yourself breathe, even if your breathing isn’t quite right yet.”

Taking a shuddering breath, you nod again, dropping your hands from your mouth. But, once your hands drop, you stop trying to control your gasping breathing and begin to panic at the heavy heaving of your chest. Now, you’re breathing too irregularly and awkwardly: inhaling when you need to exhale and exhaling over your exhales and struggling to just take a solid breath in because your lungs won’t listen.

Because you’re breathing too rapidly, you’re simultaneously suffocating and breathing too much, escalating your panic. You’re scared and getting lightheaded and it’s too much—one hand comes up to muffle your mouth again almost immediately.

However, this time Kento is prepared, and his voice pulls you back to reality as he murmurs, “Ohhh, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay.” His voice is low and sweet and it makes you pause, instinctively wanting to listen. “I know it’s scary, but you have to keep your hand away from your mouth. Don’t try to restrict your breathing—there you go, there’s my good girl.”

You’ve tugged your hand away again, placing it in your lap as you blink up at Kento through watery lashes.

“Alright, sweetheart, now I want you to focus on your breathing. I’m going to take a few deep breaths and I want you to try to match your breathing with mine,” he says gently. “Does that sound okay?”

You nod shakily, panic ebbing slightly as you listen to his familiar voice and begin to follow the slow rhythm he sets.

“Inhale…. Exhale…”

“Inhale…” Exhale.

Inhale… Exhale….

“Good girl, that was perfect. You’re doing amazing, love,” he praises. You know he’s just being kind—your breath is stuttering and you’re involuntarily mixing up the inhales and exhales—but Kento’s reassurance makes you feel safe and calm regardless.

After a few more cycles of breath, the dizziness fades and oxygen begins steadily flowing through your lungs as you follow Kento’s lead.

Inhale… “Exhale…”

“Inhale… Exhale…”

Inhale… Exhale….

As you continue to try to control your breathing, you reach out to pick up his hand, trying to silently bridge the gap between you two, making the small first move to show him that you’re slowly becoming more comfortable and grounded. He lets you lace your hand in his, thumb comfortingly brushing against the skin of your hand, the touch gently reassuring you that you’re safe.

Soon, you feel confident enough to wordlessly move towards Kento, letting him wrap you up in a comforting embrace. Being in his arms always makes you feel better, and now that you’ve calmed down enough to realize that he’s not going to hurt you, you press yourself into his chest, searching for his steady patience and gentle manner. Your breathing has evened out, and your mind has cleared enough for you to begin flipping back on what just happened. Kento stays quiet, letting you sort through the cascade of emotions you just experienced, but the silence doesn’t feel hostile—it’s welcoming and patient.

You were kissing Kento, and then he.. he touched you and it freaked you out, and then he was talking to you and… And then he asked you a question. He asked if… He wanted to know if—

Oh my god. You lied to him.

Oh god. You need to apologize—own up to what you did and tell him the truth. But as you think about what to do, your breath begins to stumble over itself again and your heart rate picks up, anxiety taking over your senses.

Your eyes fill up with tears and you look up at Kento, saying in a small voice, “Ken? I… I lied to you… earlier.” Your words are continually interrupted by an emerging pattern of involuntary breaths and hiccups, but you continue on, “I… When y-you asked… S-someone has hurt—hurt me.. before… I lied to—to you.”

You’re fully crying now, and Kento tries calming you down, rubbing your back carefully, heart sinking at your tears and the way your breathing begins to turn into struggling gasps again.

“Oh, darling. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into the top of your head, continuing to gently soothe your back. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Thank you for telling me—my brave, brave girl.”

Kento’s heart hurts. It hurts knowing that you’ve been hurt in the past, that you’re sobbing in his arms because someone hurt you. It hurts knowing that you felt too scared to tell him the truth, and it hurts even more knowing that you feel scared to admit that you lied. He wants you to feel comfortable with him—to know that you should never be scared of him.

“I-Im,” you choke out through gasping breaths, “‘m sorry—I’m sorry, so—sorry. I’m sorry, K-Ken.”

You’re not sure what you’re apologizing for, you just know that you need to be apologizing for something. Maybe you’re apologizing for lying. Maybe you’re apologizing for having been assaulted. Maybe you’re apologizing to try to appease Kento so he won’t be as angry with you for your betrayal—for not being the person he thought you were. Maybe you’re apologizing for not letting him continue to touch you—for stopping before you’re hurt again.

But Kento just shakes his head kindly, patting your back good-naturedly in response. “It’s okay sweetheart. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Shhhh, shhhhhh, you’re okay, it’s okay, shhhhh,” he coaxes gently.

“I’m sorry—sorry, ‘m really sorry f-for lying to you.” You keep apologizing, barely registering his words to you. All of your guilt from everything has cumulated, and though you’re apologizing for lying, deep down you’re apologizing for much, much more.

“It’s okay, darling,” Kento tells you quietly, ever so patient as you choke on sob after sob. “I’m not upset with you, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m not angry, baby.”

His voice is so achingly gentle, and the way he rubs circles into your back makes your heart break and shatter. How can a person be filled with so much good? You expected anger and rejection, but Kento is being so accepting and sweet it makes you break down into tears. After being mistreated for so long, it feels odd to be embraced so wholly and kindly, and you feel like you don’t deserve to be treated with so much care.

Kento, however, is on a mission to make you feel better. He gracefully waves off your apologies, insisting that it’s okay, that you have nothing to be sorry for. Instead, he apologizes, bowing his head as he begs your forgiveness for overstepping your boundaries. When you shake your head vehemently, insisting he didn’t do anything wrong, he just scolds you gently, “You don’t need to take the blame for everything—it’s okay to give yourself a break. I know I hurt you, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m deeply sorry. I pushed you past what you were comfortable with and it’s not your fault, it’s mine.”

That makes you go quiet, the silence split only by your uneven and choppy breathing—remnants of the tears still sporadically tumbling from your lashes. Kento’s apology is earnest, and his insistence that you not blame yourself makes you see the situation in a new light.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s okay for you to give yourself a break once in a while. Maybe you didn’t do anything wrong and you’re just so used to being told it was your fault that you’ve come to believe it. Maybe, even if he didn’t mean you any harm, he still hurt you, and you deserved his apology for the way it scared you.

You’re silent for a little while longer, but then you reach up and pat him on the head, fluffy strands of hair ruffled by the act of affection.

“Thank you, Ken,” you tell him with a sweet, forgiving smile. “Thank you for apologizing, but I don’t blame you for what happened. You didn’t know my exact boundaries and you didn’t mean to hurt me. It’s okay, really.”

However, there’s still one more thing in the back of your mind bothering you.

“But… Do you still.. want to be with me? I mean, does it bother you that—that—” You break off, unable to finish your sentence.

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, love.” Kento pulls back slightly, one arm cradling your back as the other moves to wipe at a stray tear on your cheek. “This doesn’t change anything, okay? You’re still the same person I fell in love with, and I’m not ‘bothered’ by anything about you. Nothing about this is your fault, and I would never treat it as such.”

You nod, relief written all over your face as you breathe out, “Okay, okay.”

“Seriously,” he huffs. “Where are you getting these silly ideas from? I would never leave you, especially not over this.”

Kento seems almost offended that you think he’d stoop so low, tapping your nose as he clucks his tongue in disapproval. You just shrug self-consciously, a little flustered by how sincere he’s being.

“Okay, then,” you sigh dramatically, scrubbing away at the last of your tears. “I guess I’ll have to just take one for the team and stay with you forever—since you’re obviously so obsessed with me.”

“Oh yeah?” he murmurs, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “You’re quite generous, entertaining this obsession.”

“Yup,” you confirm, waving a dismissive hand as you continue in a conspiratorial whisper, “It’s your lucky day. I’m running a one-night special where I grant the favors of my fans.” A grin is slowly making its way onto your face, and your smile bleeds into your tone when you tease, “Don’t get too excited though—I know it’s big news.”

Kento has the most lovesick look on his face as he looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement. “Well, I’m certainly one lucky fan.”

And you giggle at that, wrapping your arms around his middle as you snuggle into his hold. “You’re my favorite fan,” you mumble into his shirt, pressing your cheek against his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat.

“Hey, does that mean you have other fans you like?”

—

bonus:

“What are you watching?” You ask, poking your head over Kento’s shoulder to peek at the video he’s watching on his phone.

He jumps up, shutting off the screen immediately, stuttering, “N-nothing, darling.”

You’re unconvinced, reaching for his phone as you squint at him. “Really? You seem awfully jumpy for someone doing ‘nothing,’” you deadpan. Then, you narrow your eyes, accusing, “You better not be watching extra episodes of that kdrama you said you hated without me. I know you secretly love it—it’s okay, you can admit it!”

You’ve got a smug grin on your face and Kento doesn’t even try to fight it as you enter the passcode to his phone (your birthday, of course), accepting defeat and rubbing at his temples as the screen unlocks to the Youtube video he’d been watching. He’d rather endure the teasing than try to wrestle the device away from you and accidentally hurt or scare you in the process.

“‘Helping Someone Who Is Having A Panic Attack,’” you read out loud, glancing up at your boyfriend as your eyes widen, grin slowly fading. You click on his watch history, jaw dropping as you see his recently played videos.

What Is A Panic Attack?

How To Help Your Friend During A Panic Attack

Signs Of Hyperventilation And How To Stop Hyperventilating

Best Breathing Technique To Calm Panic Attacks And Anxiety

What NOT To Say To Someone Who Is Having An Anxiety Attack

“Oh my.. Oh my god. Oh my god, Ken.” Your eyes have welled up with tears. You can’t believe he’s been researching how to help you—you don’t even have words to describe how emotional this makes you feel.

Kento has a sheepish look on his face, a little embarrassed you caught him binging those videos. “Yeah… I uh..” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Just wanted to… yknow…” He shrugs, and it’s pathetic and lame and it makes you love him that much more. “Wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing… Just in case you ever get… scared.. again.” He coughs a little, looking self-conscious. “Not—not that I think it’ll happen again but—”

You cut him off before he can get another word in, practically suffocating him as you wrap him up in a tight hug. Your arms around his neck are squeezing, but Kento doesn’t make any moves to stop you. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist, turning his head to press a kiss to your cheek as you whisper, “Thank you,” voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

—

if you've made it this far: thank you for reading :) please take care of yourself, and for all of my survivors out there, please know that it's not your fault, never will be your fault, and never has been your fault!! i love you all and i hope everybody has a great rest of their summer :D

#nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk fluff #jjk comfort #jjk fluff & comfort #nanami fanfic #nanami fluff #kento nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk nanami #nanami x you #nanami x fem!reader #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen comfort

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rileyglas · 1 month

Text

The List ~Pt. 6 - Crestfallen~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: The arrival of a few new guests at the hotel ignites tension, prompting doubts about everyone's true intentions. Tempers rise and you're forced to make a decision about your future.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery (Alastor), sassiness, cursing, fluff, eventual smut, actual plot, slow burn, (possibly religious trauma if you squint), and of course 18+

2.5k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 (You're on it!) Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

It’s been two weeks since you spent that single evening with Alastor, and you’ve slept like complete shit every single night since. The first few were expected as your body was still healing but there was no excuse for the days that followed. Other than the desire to be near him.

It didn’t help that you were beginning to get anxious about the new deal, wondering what he could possibly show you that would help expand your power. He made no mention of it over coffee or in passing. But with Extermination Day getting closer you felt the pressure to be better (now that you knew it was possible).

Like clockwork, Alastor walks into your room with the usual two cups of morning coffee, setting yours on the table. This whole ‘domestic’ side of the demon is something I could really get used to. “Glowing as usual my dear.” He says as he kisses your forehead and sits down on the bench at the end of the bed. Odd. No book? No newspaper? He just sits quietly, staring into his mug. His mind seems to be somewhere else this morning.

“Well good morning to you too. What has the mighty Radio Demon frazzled this morning?”

“Hm?” He hums, still not looking up at you. You frown.

I know what will get his attention.

“That smile of yours doesn’t hide as much as you think it does…” as you speak, you pull yourself on his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck, “…at least not for me,”

A look of pleasant surprise crosses his face at your forwardness and his eyes snap to yours. Finally pulled away from his thoughts.

Too easy.

“I am far from trying to hide anything darling,” he playfully runs his free hand up your thigh to your hip, resting it with firm grip on your waist, “However, you are correct in assuming my head is a little busier than usual. Charlie just informed me that her father will be making a visit to the hotel today.”

You practically fall out of Alastor’s hold from how fast you jolt up at the news. “I’m sorry…LUCIFER is coming today? You didn’t think that was important information to give me first thing this morning?”

He takes a sip of his drink and shrugs, “I would have told you eventually.”

Rolling your eyes at his nonchalant attitude, you quickly get dressed and head down to the lobby. Everyone was bustling around the hotel to get it prepared for the King of Hell’s arrival. You track down Charlie to ask what you can do and quickly get busy helping the others.

When Charlie answers the door, you catch a peek of the King for the first time and he’s…much shorter than you expected however still strikingly handsome. He was said to be the most beautiful of the angels before his fall. You are just finishing hanging a banner on the stairway when you overhear Alastor’s voice talking with everyone. Making your way down the stairs you catch the end of an apparently heated conversation.

“- well it’s not very clever!”

“Ha – ha! Fuck you.”

“ALRIGHT!” You and Charlie chime at the same time. She takes Lucifer’s shoulder to pull him towards the rest of the group and you wrap your hand on Alastor’s forearm. “What the fuck is your problem?” you scold. He jerks your hand off his arm without a second glance.

Oh we are going to be pissy today?

“And this is our newest resident but with her progress I feel like she’s bound to be our first successful transfer! She’s got a heart of gold!” Charlie beams at you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say extending out a hand for a handshake.

Lucifer takes your hand and pecks your knuckles. “Yes, wonderful to meet you as well.” As he looks up he pauses, and a confused look crosses his face. You share an equally confused look while trying to pry your hand back from him. Charlie regains his attention, “Sooo dad there is so much to see –“ she trails off and you walk over to the bar.

“Trouble in paradise?” Husk pokes. If looks could kill, yours would have buried him another six feet under. Taking the hint, he pours you a double of your usual. You hear him mutter a hasty ‘sorry’ when he hands you the glass.

As you baby your drink some girl barges into the hotel, practically throwing herself onto Alastor. I really wish that didn’t bother me as much as it does. Noticing your face twist in annoyance, Husk leans over the bar to your ear, “It’s just Mimzy. She’s trouble, but not in the way you think. I’ll talk to Al in a bit.” You nod, watching her walk over to chat up Husk and Angel. Irritated by the events of the day so far, you excuse yourself to your room.

Halfway up the stairs to realize you don’t actually want to go sulk in your room, so instead you leisurely wander the halls lost in thought. Why is Alastor wrapped so fucking tight over Lucifer being here? Really showing his true colors.

You blindly make the first turn down the hall and knock heads with Lucifer who swiftly wraps an arm around your waist to keep you from falling. You grasp at his shoulders for balance. “Fuck I’m so so so sorry – I was lost in my thoughts.”

“No no that was all me. I also was lost in my thoughts. Are you alright?” his voice was honey, sweetened even more by his soft smile.

“Yes, thank you. So sorry again – uhm where are your tour guides?”

“I evaded them to look around for myself. However, I am quite glad to have run into you, literally.” He chuckles at himself. Even his laugh is smooth. No wonder this man corrupted not one but two women with ease.

You wrinkle your brows, “Any reason in particular or…?”

“I just was hit with the strangest feeling when we met, and I wanted to ask. Are you…” his voice drops, “fallen?”

You push him away, realizing you are still holding onto each other. “Oh goodness no, I died and ended up straight here. I joke that I just wasn’t one of God’s favorites, even after living ‘by the book’ as they say.” A nervous laugh bubbles out of you but Lucifer looks more empathetic than amused.

“Charlie was right, if this whole redemption thing is even possible, you’d –“

“Please don’t finish that sentence.” You ask quietly.

He steps closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I just see how bright your soul is –“

“Don’t….say that.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Lucifer was on the verge of tears with how he is looking at you right now. “It must be so painful to be surrounded by such horrible sinners. Redemption would mean –“

“Lucifer please…” you beg with him, feeling your emotions start to take over. Why is he prodding this subject so hard?

“My dear Heaven can make mistakes, even if they’ll never admit it.”

“Enough!” You jerk away from him, causing him to step back in a stunned silence. “It’s ridiculous how the devil himself can see my soul is good yet THEY sent me here without a second thought. My love and my kindness and how I lived righteously on Earth meant NOTHING to them! Heaven didn’t want me so why the fuck would I want to go begging at their gate!?” Your cheeks grow hot as tears begin to pour from your eyes. Why am I crying over this RIGHT NOW?

Lucifer grabs you and pulls you to his chest, turning your tears into full sobs muffled by his coat. You drop to your knees and he kneels with you, tightening his embrace. “I’m sorry,” He breathes, “I understand more than anyone the pain you feel. But I also sense how powerful you’ve become here. Charlie is so lucky to have a friend like you.”

You look up abruptly through bloodshot eyes, taken back by the comment. He laughs at your stunned expression, “I’m Lucifer, THE devil – you really think I wouldn’t know something was up? Don’t worry, I understand the danger if you’re not careful with who you surround yourself -”

“What did you do to her!?” Alastor’s enraged voice resonates through hotel walls as he rushes over to pull you away from Lucifer. He grabs your arm, yanking you up off your knees. Some timing this guy has.

“Ouch – stop! He didn’t do anything. We ran into each other and just got –“ you try to reason with the increasingly furious demon but it falls on deaf ears. His antlers grow and body starts to stretch over the already smaller body of Lucifer.

“I don’t care if you’re the King of Hell, you touch her again and I’ll take pleasure in ripping those puny arms off your body!”

“Alastor calm down – he was helping me if anything!”

Lucifer stands up, ignoring the threats, but then a realization hits him. He looks at you equally baffled and disgusted. “No….Oh no my dear, you aren’t actually serious, right? All the sinners in Hell and you choose him?”

“What the fuck does that mean!?” you and Alastor angrily shout in unison.

Charlie and Vaggie come down the hall to see the tense scene. In classic Charlie fashion, she nervously tries to deescalate the situation, “Oh hey dad! THERE you are! Let’s continue the tour on a different floor, shall we?”

A sudden force hits the hotel, causing the entire building to shake. Looking outside you see several loan shark demons trying to force their way in and yelling for Mimzy. Guess Husk was right about her being trouble. Alastor snaps his head to you, keeping a rigid grip on your arm, “Radio tower. NOW.” he barks. Without waiting for your response, he shrinks into his shadow while the others run down to the lobby.

You walk into the radio tower and look outside in time to watch the last of the sharks being eaten. Maybe that’ll help him blow off some steam from today. Get his shit untwisted enough to actually talk to me. You pace the tower, taking in all the knobs and wires that strewed across the front where he sat every night. Alastor never invited you into his tower and you never felt the need to visit. So why did he ask demand me to come in here instead of his room?

“Feel any better, asshole?” you bite as soon as your ears start to ring.

A chill runs down your spine when he materializes right behind you. “You’d be wise to watch your tone.” He growls threateningly.

You turn to face him, “I’m sorry? My tone? Would you like a reminder of how shitty you’ve been towards me all day? And the whole Lucifer thing, the fuck is your problem with – “ his hand grasps at your throat, holding firm enough to startle you. You look up at him in shock and stare into his glowing red eyes.

“My problem with the King of Hell is none of your concern. However, I quite dislike how easily he got so close to you, my dear. Did you enjoy his hands on you? Did he whisper sweet nothings in your ear? Telling you how wonderful it is that you use your little powers for good?” His words drip with malice as he holds you in place. This was what you always expected from him yet somehow it hurt worse now, after everything you’d gone through together. His last sentence is all you needed to hear to trigger every worry you’ve had since the first deal.

You push yourself away from his grip. Resentment and hurt tightens painfully in your chest. This is it, this is where I need to turn off every emotion I ever thought I've felt for him. You straighten your body and try to speak calmly, “You’re angry because you think he wanted to take me…my power…to use elsewhere, aren’t you? This isn’t about him putting hands on me or you being jealous in that sense, oh noooooo - You thought he was trying to convince me to do his bidding rather than yours, THAT’S why you’re upset isn’t it?”

Static fills the air and he seethes at your words. He moves towards you but you step back out of his reach. You feel his shadow try to grab your legs but you conjure your needles, peppering them across the wood floor to chase it off. “Don’t touch me! It’s true, isn’t it?” Your eyes ignite with anger to hide your tears.

“I believe I made it very clear in the beginning this was about the power but – “ his voice drops and smile fades.

“What? But WHAT Alastor?”

He takes a deep breath and tries to step towards you again, speaking with a quiet but fierce tone, “Please, I need you to believe me when I say – “

“BELIEVE YOU? Do you hear yourself? This whole ruse of trusting each other, being drawn to each other, wanting to HELP me – it was all for your personal gain! You want nothing from me other than the power I can give you. Well forget it, I told you I wasn’t going to be some PET of yours. Our deals are OVER.” Pulling your hand up, you see the pink and green entwined string that connected you to Alastor. Your chest pangs as it snaps apart, fading into the dust of the tower.

His static cuts out and an eerie stillness falls over the room. In the dim glow of the tower you can only make out his silhouette and red eyes. You stand perfectly still, preparing for him to retaliate, lunge, attack, yell, anything. But he doesn’t. Neither of you move nor speak. After what feels like an hour of silence, Alastor melts into his shadow and disappears out of the room.

You drop to your knees in agony.

Rule #4 Never let your weaknesses show.

A wave of pain burns through your body as though your heart was just ripped out of your chest.

Rule #3 Never bring anyone too close.

How could I be so stupid to think we could work together?

Rule #2 Never tell a soul what (or how much) power you have.

That he could actually care about me?

Rule #1 Never trust another Overlord.

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp @alastorsgirl48 @mysterisumone

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wardenparker · 2 months

Text

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 8

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 11k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story* Teasing, flirting, nudity, bathing together, fingering, a smattering of dirty talk. Summary: This wedding night is special for more than just the happy couple. Notes: A little light smut for your Sunday! Thanks for sticking with us this long, but these two are finally starting to get to know each other. 🧡 As always, please remember that the gif choice at the top of the chapter is not meant to represent reader's physical appearance. In this case, it's for Cameron and Wiley!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7

Not even the nonstop amount of work you’ve been doing for the wedding can stop how much you’ve been thinking about Marcus since he left early on Thursday morning, and obviously Sydney isn’t going easy on you. The merciless, good hearted, happy-for-you teasing started the second you and Marcus came downstairs together the morning after the rehearsal dinner and has kept going through the texting and when you appeared for the actual wedding looking like you had paid a great deal of extra attention to your appearance for tonight. Not even to take away from the bride of course, but enough to look special for the occasion.

It had been so hard to not go back to your apartment after leaving the office yesterday. He had wanted to. So badly. To pick up the conversation and possibly do more than that kiss on the cheek he had thought about the entire time he was on the golf course and in the office. Now, getting ready for the wedding, he pays special attention getting ready so he can look his best for you.

The greenery that has been brought into the gardens, the subtle lighting accents, the clover-shaped place cards, and even the Kelly green silk shirt and matching heels that you picked out to wear with your most flattering suit are all festive for the St Patrick’s Day wedding. Each time you have checked on Joyce and her bridesmaids they have been jittery with excitement but doing well, and the florist was an astonishing ten minutes early to drop off the flowers, so everything is moving along perfectly.

By the time guests begin to arrive, the groom, ushers, groomsmen, and father of the bride are all in place. Considering the chaos this wedding was thrown into just two weeks ago? It might be the best organized night you’ve executed by yourself in years.

He has no problem not being in the wedding party anymore, however, Marcus escorts Joyce’s mother down the aisle to her seat with pride. The accents of his tuxedo had been the same color as the bridesmaids, but he had willingly given them up for her father, deciding on a classic grey accent to contrast for the vest, pocket square, and bow tie.

The only two things that save you from crying during the ceremony — which you always, always do — are how busy you are and how damn good Marcus looks. Through the ceremony and photos you catch glimpses and share smiles, but it takes until cocktail hour before you get a chance to sneak up in his side. “You know it’s bad manners to show up being more handsome than the groom.”

“Don’t think that I did that.” Marcus immediately warms from the inside out at just hearing your voice as he turns towards you. “And you look like you stepped out of a fashion shoot.” He compliments. “Upstaging the bride.”

“I would never.” Just hearing his voice in person instead of over the phone practically makes you giddy, but you demure. “Thank you, though. I will pass the compliment along to David, who is my fashion consultant.”

“Well, the linen suit is perfect with the vivid emerald green.” He smiles as he motions towards the reception. “It’s wonderful and they are beaming.” He smiles at the now family pictures being taken with Joyce’s parents and a large bouquet. While Michael’s parents hadn’t shown, they had sent a flower arrangement so it had made the couple hopeful that they would be accepting of things down the line.

“As long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters.” So far nothing has gone wrong, and you’re keeping your fingers crossed that it stays that way. Or at least, that when something finally does, it will be either small or insignificant enough that you can fix it without the couple even realizing.

“You have a gift.” Marcus praises softly. “Which do you prefer? Running the inn or planning? I’m assuming the day to day for the inn.”

“I do prefer the day to day of the inn,” you admit, looking around the garden filled with reception guests. “But I think I’ll be broken-hearted if I don’t get to help my siblings plan their weddings. I do like it.”

“I can see that.” He reaches out and slides a hand around your body, resting on where the tattoo sits in the small of your back. “You are wonderful and you’ve created a day they will never forget.”

“I won’t take an ounce of credit.” Looking up at him, though, you do smile. Just about as broadly as you can. “I will steal a dance from you later, though.”

“I think we can manage that.” He nods, smiling just as wide as you are. “Let me know when you are free.”

“I’ll come and find you when things are under control enough for me to slip away.” Not that you think it will take long, but there is always potential for things to happen. That’s why you have the radio in your ear, after all. A discreet Walkie talkie on your belt is hidden by your suit it makes you reachable by the whole staff working tonight. It gives you the luxury of stepping away to say hi to Marcus without worrying about a major disaster breaking out.

“Let me know if I can help.” He tells you, knowing that you would never ask, but he will offer anyway. “I can carry a case of champagne or something.”

“You’re a guest.” Never in a million years would you ask him to do any work when he’s attending an event in space you control, and you shake your head. “Relax. Enjoy. Eat and drink. Dance. I’ll come and find you later, handsome.”

He rolls his eyes and grins at you. “I knew that would be your answer, but my offer will stand.”

“Noted and appreciated.” You lean into his side for a brief hug before slipping away again, shooting a teasing wink his way from halfway across the garden as you go.

The garden lights are on. White mixed with green to match the theme of the wedding party and Marcus has danced with the bride and her mother by the time you come back to his side. More than a few glasses of champagne in, and relaxed with his bow tie untied now.

“Having fun?” You may have snuck over to the deejay to ask him to play a slow song, but no one needs to know that you planned it.

“Enjoying myself, but now…” he turns and gives you a slow smirk. “It’s even better since you are here.”

“Oh yeah?” That has you beaming at him as the next song starts.

“Yeah.” He hears the slow, sweet strains of the song and lifts a brow. “Are you here long enough to dance before you flit away, hummingbird?”

“I’m all yours.” It sounds a bit more like a pledge than the playful thing it had sounded like in your head, but that’s okay. You still mean it. “For at least a song or two.”

Humming happily, he holds out his hand for you, watching you with almost tender affection. “We seem to be good at this.”

“Those lessons that our parents insisted on have paid off.” Those lessons don’t dictate how well you fit in his arms, though, or the way you feel drawn into him like a magnet.

“It’s like they knew.” He chuckles.

“We can never tell them,” you snicker, leaning into him a little more as the song goes on, and resting your head comfortably on his shoulder. “We’re still their children, after all. Can’t let them know we think they were ever right.”

“Never.” He had already received a call from his parents after the photos of the State dinner were published, only a case of mild humble bragging allowed before they changed the subject.

“You’ve never told me if you have siblings or anything.” The thought occurs to you almost belatedly, as the world is hazy around the two of you and you like it that way.

“Only child.” He chuckles. “Although I am possibly the only case of single child syndrome in my extended family.” He tells you. “I have twenty-seven first cousins.”

Your head nearly snaps back, wide eyes and a laugh of shock making your face look comically surprised. “I’m gonna need flash cards, aren’t I?”

He laughs, making several others look towards you, curious as to the amusement. “No.” He promises. “Most of the time, we all wear name tags.” He grins. “My family has six sets of identical twins in mix. They decided to make it a family traditional to tag us so no pranks were played.”

“Criminey.” Even on a low huff, you shake your head in wonder. All his poor aunts! “So an only child but plenty of playmates, then?”

“Always.” He laughs. “Always felt like I lived in a zoo when family was around.”

"You must have had hellacious games of Hide and Seek." The huff is replaced with a giggle, imagining little Marcus with all those cousins and all the chaos they must have gotten into. "It sounds amazing."

He agrees with you. “It was a competition to see how long we could last.” He tells you. “Had to stay on the property though.”

“Big family house?” You guess, figuring that his grandparents must have at least had a little bit of land. That’s the image you have in your head of Texas, anyway.

“Ended up having like a family compound.” Marcus admits with a chuckle. “For the summers together.”

"That sounds like so much fun." As the first song bleeds into a second, you don't move an inch from his arms. There's nowhere you would rather be than right here. "My parents are both only children, so I have absolutely zero first cousins. That's how we all ended up with best friends that basically got adopted into the family."

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Marcus smiles at the image of your family adopting friends over the years, collecting them.

"Don't get me wrong, it's great." It's how you have kept Sydney in your life, and her sister, and your other best friend from college. It's how Alex and David got so close so young, and how Junie and Kiley became so close. "It's just different, that's all."

“I know.” Marcus would never put down your experience. “You might be overwhelmed by my family and think we are all insane.”

"Or I might have a blast." You raise an eyebrow at him, wondering if he's really saying that he wants you to meet his family or just postulating that someday down the line it would happen. Probably the latter. "We'll find out when we're ready."

“I’m going home at the beginning of April.” He informs you, wondering if it’s too fast. “You could always come with me.”

From intrigued to bewildered at the drop of a hat, your face morphs into something soft and your head tilts in a gentle awe. "And I thought I was always the one running headlong into relationships with my heart out there on my sleeve," you murmur, realizing that Marcus must be very much the same way. "I—I would absolutely love to."

You don’t have to come of course, but he thinks you really mean that you would want to. “No pressure, of course.” He adds. “We don’t have to be press official or anything. My family is tight-knit, they wouldn’t breathe a word.”

“There is already speculation,” you admit, though you have to shrug about it so it doesn’t upset you that people are speculating about your life at all. “We…didn’t do a great job of not looking enamored with each other at the State dinner.”

“I understand that.” Marcus has read the speculation and seen the photos. Both of you are photographed looking completely taken with the other. “However, when you decided to confirm is completely up to you.” He reminds you softly. “You owe no one anything before that. Not even as the First Princess.”

“It’s more important to me that you know I want to be with you. And that we tell our families when we’re ready. The nation can wait, it won’t kill them to not get gossip right away.” You bite your lip though, leaning into his side again as you dance. “My family is probably going to be very enthusiastic tomorrow.”

“You plan on telling them tomorrow?” He asks, slightly surprised that you would be so willing to say something so quickly. It’s not that he’s been viewed as undesirable, but often the women he dated were more cautious.

“The only thing that would stop me would be if you don’t want me to.” Otherwise, sharing this new step forward in your life with your family is just one more thing to celebrate.

“You’re my soulmate.” Marcus reminds you, smiling softly at the reminder himself. “I don’t mind telling a stranger on the street, let alone people you love.”

When Juan had told you what a romantic Marcus is, you had almost taken it with a grain of salt. A friend talking up his friend to the girl who likes him. But it hasn’t taken long at all for you to see the truth of it shining in Marcus’s eyes, or widening his smile. And a man who wants love is exactly what you have always hoped for. “I’m glad we agree,” you murmur, swallowing around the first time your heart has burst with those words. You’re not going to come out with that full-scale declaration before you’ve even gone out on your first few dates. Before you’ve even kissed.

He smiles even more, his fingers pressing into your hip and lower back, pulling you closer to his own body. It’s not possessive, more protective over you and the moment that is unfurling between you. “Just let me know if I come on too strong.” He asks, knowing that it could annoy some and he doesn’t want to do that to you.

“That’s…usually the warning I have to give.” The striking similarities between the two of you aren’t lost. The way your wishes and dreams and treatment of your partners all lines up…it makes sense why they always say that your soulmate is your ideal fit. Especially in this moment, as your arms tighten around each other and the world seems to stop around you.

He chuckles softly, leaning in and pressing his lips to the edge of your hair. “You will never have to worry about that with me.” He promises.

The way your heart stops completely for a moment at the bare touch of lips to skin before starting back up at double the speed is so telling, and so overwhelming that your fingers dig into his jacket to keep him close. “You don’t have to worry either.”

The moment is perfect and it’s one of those moments that a first kiss is almost required. Like it’s the Hallmark movie it feels like. Marcus stares into your eyes and his gaze flickers down to your lips for a moment before there’s a snort beside him.

“You two look like the newlyweds.” Joyce teases, a broad grin on her face as she leans into the arms of her new husband.

Thwarted for the second time in as many days, you swallow the disappointment but have to appreciate the irony of who’s pointing it out. “That’s your job, today, I think.”

“No way we would want to upstage the happy couple.” Marcus adds, sending them a smile.

“No reason it can’t be a happy day for more than just us,” she hums, grinning again when they turn away to keep dancing.

Marcus laughs quietly as he continues to dance with you. “I think they suspect something.” He teases softly.

“Like I said,” you laugh quietly, beaming at him impossibly brighter. “We’re not very good at hiding it.”

“No, we aren’t.” He agrees, deciding that now is the perfect time to dip you like he had during the State dinner.

The same joyful shout of laughter bubbles out of you that had then, drawing some attention again but this time you revel in it. Marcus’s soothing presence is there to let you enjoy yourself without fear, so that when you wrap your arms around his neck again on the upswing — this time there is no hesitation in following your natural impulse. Your lips find his like you’re coming home again, in a kiss as sweet and bright as the rest of this moment.

He expected the kiss, had anticipated kissing you so it’s a shock to have you initiating the kiss. Eyes widening for a split second before he closes his eyes and leans you down even more. The brilliancy of having him lean into the moment is wonderful, and you suddenly don’t know if your head is swimming from being dipped or from him. Not that you care. Not that any of it matters. Because the electric spark of it is so brilliant you could sing.

Marcus has kissed women, lots of them. Some of them women he had loved, but nothing compares to this kiss. He had always heard that soulmate intimacy is beyond description and that is exactly what this is, indescribable.

The buzzing seems to start at the top of your head and go all the way down to your toes, making you hum against his lips when you finally have to pull away. Can’t be making out in the dance floor. That will definitely be noticed. Marcus slowly pulls you upright, his lips tingling and his heart feeling like it is soaring through the clouds.

“I wanted to do that so badly at the State dinner,” you whisper, beaming at him and glowing in the moment. He knows that. You told him already. But you’re too lightheaded to care about repeating yourself.

“I did too.” Marcus confesses just as softly. It’s impossibly amazing to have someone that feels the same way and he absorbs it like it’s oxygen to breathe.

There’s a giggle in your throat, but it’s small and feels like a hiccup, making you grin even more. “But that was better than I imagined.”

“Same.” He looks around the dance floor, aware that you weren’t at a soulmate wedding before he leans in to whisper in your ear. “I had never thought touching my soulmate would be so exciting and soothing all at the same time.”

“No exciting touches while I’m working,” you chide, knowing it isn’t what he meant but unable to resist teasing him.

He snorts quietly and arches a brow mischievously. “And if I do?”

He is a tease, and he said as much to you with pride, so you just quirk a smile up in the corner of your mouth and stroke one thumb along the line of his neck. “Then you’re not staying on the couch this time.”

“Am I staying?” He asks softly, not wanting to presume anything and he grins at your huff.

“Only if you want to.” You have no intention of pressuring him, but if he wants to spend the night you will welcome him with open arms.

“I don’t think that’s a question in my mind.” He chuckles. “I just don’t want you to think that I only want to take you to bed.”

“If I thought that, you wouldn’t be invited.” Enough years of second guessing and wondering have made an impact on you that way, and you certainly aren’t going to entertain any kind of advances from someone who isn’t interested in you for the right reasons. Not anymore.

“That’s good.” He admires your spirit and self-assurance. They are traits that he always likes in a woman and he’s happy to find that his soulmate is aligned the same way. Reaching up, he smirks slightly as he touches an earring. “So what time do you get off work, beautiful?”

"As soon as the reception's over." Subtly turning your wrist on his shoulder, you check the time and press a kiss to his cheek when your heart flutters at the end of the song that had been playing. "Just a couple more hours, handsome. I hope you're one of those G-men who keeps a change of clothes in their car."

“I do.” He nods, butterflies swirling in his stomach like he’s untried all over again, even though his virginity is long past gone. “The other night was an odd thing because of just coming back.”

"I'll let my temporary roommate know you're coming up." That's not exactly the kind of thing you can spring on Agent Bailey, even if she is at the end of her shift. Her shift relief will need to know there's someone spending the night so they don't hear noises and burst into your room.

“If it’s not convenient, we can always plan something out.” Marcus immediately assures you. He knows that it has to be a little stifling at times with the agent there and he doesn’t want you to stress if there’s some reason he can’t stay.

"I just don't want an agent interrupting us," you assure him quickly. "That's all. I want you to stay."

Marcus grins. “Afraid of a shift change and the agent thinking you’re being attacked?” He jokes.

"Stranger things have happened." Unfortunately, the ear piece you're wearing to stay connected to your team crackles to life with the voices of servers get ready for the cake cutting. "That's my cue," you hum, tapping your earpiece with a slight frown. "Save me one more dance later, okay?"

“Absolutely.” Marcus lets go of you reluctantly, although he knows you are still working to make the night magical for his friends.

The wedding is as close to perfect as any event that you've organized in possibly your entire career. By the time the last guests are trickling out of the garden and the wait staff is bringing in the last trays of glasses to be washed, your work is fairly well done for the night. The overnight manager can oversee the rest of the cleanup, and you've already sent Sydney home to her comfy bed after freaking out with her over the fact that Marcus has agreed to stay over tonight. Joyce and Michael left straight for the airport to be off on their honeymoon after many, many hugs. Agent Bailey looks positively relaxed compared to some other events you've held at the inn, but you can tell she's ready for a cup of coffee and a crossword to wind down with before her relief arrives.

"Hey." You find Marcus on the porch when you step back outside, and your face splits on a big, beautiful smile.

“Hey.” Marcus turns to find you watching him, your jacket discarded somewhere and you look softer, a little worn. “I have to just give you a round of applause.” He hums, clapping silently. “You made this look so easy, even though there are a million balls up in the air at one time.”

"I'm exhausted," you admit without shame. After two weeks of basically working nonstop, you would feel like you're about to drop except that you have the promise of the rest of the night ahead of you. "Thank god I took the whole weekend off. We can sleep in tomorrow."

Marcus frowns, not liking that you’ve overworked yourself and he is immediately pulling you close and rubbing your back. “Why don’t we go upstairs and you let me take care of you?”

“Because that will require an entire reprogramming of my personality?” The attempt at a joke just makes him raise his eyebrows at you and deepens his frown, and you know instinctively you’re going to give in to him. You may not be good at letting other people be in charge of you ever, but the warm and fuzzy feelings you get from being the sole focus of Marcus’s attention outweighs it. “Okayyyyyy.”

At the almost petulant tone, Marcus smirks slightly. “Good.” He nods and pulls you closer. “You deserve to let someone do for you.” He whispers softly. “You’ve done so much for my friends tonight. Let me return the favor.”

There isn’t any use protesting, and you like the gentle security of his arms too much to leave them right now, so the two of you make your way to the elevator wrapped around each other as though there is nowhere else you could possibly be. “Did you have fun tonight?” Aside from Joyce and Michael — who had thanked you profusely before leaving for the night — his opinion of things is the only one you care about.

“Probably the best wedding I’ve ever been to.” Marcus isn’t just saying that. The staff milled around, wearing happy expressions that weren’t painted on, even when they were busy. The entire event flowed smoothly and the atmosphere was one of celebrated joy. A lot of that comes straight from the top, how you treat your staff and the environment you’ve created. “I’ll say it again, you are amazing.”

“You may have noticed by now that I’m not very good at taking compliments.” You up at him, though, warm cheeks and broad smile making you look bashful. “But…thank you.”

“Well, I plan on giving them to you often.” He admits, admiring your beautiful face. He’s always believed in giving compliments, but he never says something he doesn’t mean.

“Then I will try to be better.” Having only kissed him once so far, the tantalizing closeness of where he hangs his head as you step into the elevator together beckons you, but you resist if only out of manners. Agent Bailey doesn’t need to be made to feel awkward in such a small space.

He can tell that you want to kiss him, but he can also see how incredibly worn out you are. Marcus shifts slightly, moving behind you so he can let you lean against him. The small, nondescript duffel bag in his hand brushes your leg, and you smile gently at the idea of waking up beside him tomorrow morning. As tantalizing as taking him to bed is, it’s the soft, domestic dream of waking up to see his sleep-mussed face that has you weak in the knees. When the elevator stops upstairs, you pause to let Agent Bailey work and then go in when she gives you the signal.

“Are the threats bad enough she needs to check the apartment every time?” He asks softly, frowning at the idea that you would be in so much danger.

“Mom is slightly overprotective,” you explain, dropping your jacket on the coat rack by the door when you come in. “I give it another month of all-clears before she stops insisting the apartment be checked every single time.”

“She loves you.” It’s not hard to see why but he also doesn’t want to minimize its effect on you.

“Oh, I know.” Turning around again, you reach for him even though he isn’t far away. “And I love her. Which is why I’ve never fussed at her for anything reasonable she’s ever asked of me. Including letting my agent check my apartment before I go inside. If it eases her anxiety to know I’m safe, that’s fine. She’s got plenty else to deal with right now.”

“It’s probably because you live alone.” He murmurs, sliding his arms around you. “When I first moved away, my Mom called every night to make sure I locked my door. And I was not nearly as pretty as you are.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” His chin weighs on your shoulder and you cover his arms with your own, wrapping them around your own waist. “You’re much prettier than me. But you’re right that it’s about me living alone. When I lived with Syd she never worried out loud. But she also wasn’t president then.”

“Maybe we will have to get you a roommate.” Marcus isn’t pushing for anything, only teasing out loud. “And a really protective dog.”

“If you want a review of how I am to live with, Syd will tell you everything, I’m sure.” Though neither of you believes in pushing the other, it’s obvious that a fully functioning and committed relationship is on both of your minds. “And you know I’m dying to have a dog, we talked about that. I just can’t do it here. There’s nowhere near enough space.”

“There is if you build a cottage behind the inn.” Marcus suggests. “Gives you space for the family and keeps you close enough to your work to still pop in whenever you need.”

For a second you just stand stock still, shocked at the idea, before you slowly turn in his arms and look up into that sharply angled face with the gentlest eyes in the whole world. “I had never thought of that,” you admit, astonished now at your own lack of imagination.

“Maybe now you will.” He smiles, happy to have offered a suggestion that might be of use to you. “It’s a perfect compromise, and then you could turn your apartment into another suite for guests.”

“It’s a perfect compromise as long as it’s something my partner also likes the sound of.” Thinking of him as a partner — a long term one, the long-term partner of your life — sends that tingle out to all your extremities all over again and you find yourself smiling even brighter. “I guess we’ll have to think about what kind of cottage we would want, if that’s something we decide to do together.”

“Stone.” Marcus immediately says. “Designed to fit in. Perhaps an old carriage house design.”

The way he offers such unfettered support softens you, and you reach up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Have you thought about it before, or are you just brilliant with improvising ideas?”

“Haven’t thought about it before but I hate when I see a historic building and some addition that’s completely modern or doesn’t match the style.” He admits with a sheepish grin.

“Then I’ll just call you brilliant and you’ll have to live with being positively adored.” He blushes at that declaration, and you end up smiling all over again. “And it’s very Sabrina of you to think of living in a carriage house. Which makes it thematic, of course, and now we have to.”

“Now we have to, huh?” He chuckles quietly and leans in to press a kiss to your hair. “Then I guess we better start designing a carriage house worth of the First Princess.”

“I don’t care.” Even though you’re shaking your head, you’re transfixed, looking up into his eyes. It’s too soon for these things you’re feeling — too quick and too untried — but they’re so honest that they catch in your throat and bubble over. “As long as you’re there, too, I don’t care about anything else.”

It’s a loaded comment and it’s one that would have him searching your eyes to see if you are being truthful but he doesn’t have to. He feels that you are. “We will decide when the time comes.” He promises. “Where we live.”

“I’m just grateful you don’t think I’m crazy,” you admit softly. “For feeling so certain already.”

He snorts and pulls you close. “When I realized that you knew we had to be soulmates, there was another reaction that I needed space from you because of.” He admits. “Do you know what that was?”

“Not a clue.” Whatever it was, he’s here with you now, so you aren’t afraid of it. “Tell me.”

“So I didn’t beg you to run away with me and get married.” He flushes slightly and bites his lip.

“Oh god…” The breath of disbelief that leaves you is as disbelieving as it is giddy. “I would’ve said yes and we would’ve been doing text message breakups from the car on our way to the nearest soulmate chapel.”

“And we are better than that.” Marcus agrees, “so it was a good thing that I left for London.”

“Long distance so that we were forced to not be impulsive.” In a very real way, he’s right. You would both have jumped headfirst into this and being on separate continents forced you to calm down. You do smirk, though, and hold him a little closer. “It didn’t stop us from bathing together, though.”

Your smirk is tantalizingly wicked and innocent, making him return it. “I was trying very hard to be good while we were on the phone together. To not think about you naked.”

"I admit," you aren't embarrassed or shy about it, though. "I was decidedly less well behaved..."

“Oh yeah?” He arches a brow curiously. “What— were you touching yourself while we were talking?”

"After." It's not something you expected to admit tonight, but you have no intention of keeping the truth from Marcus at all. "I...wasn't confident I could keep quiet if I actually did it during one of our conversations."

“So you are vocal.” He hums softly, starting to get an idea of what might be a perfect ending to the night for you.

"Maybe a little." It's definitely something you have to control to be considerate of the other person in your apartment at all times.

“That’s good.” He’s aware that Agent Bailey has disappeared around the corner, trying to give you the illusion of privacy. “I like vocal.”

Instantly, your eyes snap up to his. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He hums, pressing a little closer to you with a weighted smile. “Why don’t we run a bath? Soaking sounds like a good idea for you, doesn’t it?”

“Thank god my tub is big enough for two people,” you huff, immediately grabbing his hand and heading straight for your bathroom.

He hadn’t actually meant for him to soak, but it’s obvious that’s what you want. Allowing you to guide him into your bathroom, he looks around the room. He hadn’t really paid attention to the tub when he had spent the night or when he was here for the game night, so it was a charming surprise to see that the tub is big enough for two.

"Are you a bubbles or salts guy?" You have a whole shelf dedicated to bath things that you've actually started working through thanks to the frequent phone calls you shared while he was away. Before that, you barely made time to touch them.

“Either one.” He shrugs slightly. “Depends on the mood, but I’m thinking bubbles tonight. What about you?”

"Sweet Surrender or Heart of the Ocean?" The two yet-untouched bottles on the shelf have abstract names but smelled amazing in the store when you bought them, so you give him the choice. Either way, the light and airy scented candles in the room will add ambiance more than anything else.

“Sweet Surrender.” He likes the sound of it and shrugs off his tuxedo jacket to drape over the counter.

“Honey, almonds, and pomegranate,” you read from the bottle as you turn to plug up the tub and start the bath. These first moments of intimacy are so delicate, and even though you have both verbally confirmed your shared marks — this will be the first time you see them on each other.

“That sounds like the perfect scent to relax in.” He doesn’t glance up at you, slowly starting to undress in case you change your mind.

“Hey.” As soft as your voice is, your hand reaches out to touch his arm. He isn’t looking at you and you just want to be sure that he doesn’t feel pressured. “If you want to wait, we can wait as long as you need.”

“No.” He laughs at the irony of you voice his own thoughts. “But I also know you are tired. Why don’t we soak without any expectations?”

“No expectations is good.” You nod, appreciating the way he already looks like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “There are a lot of different kinds of intimacy.”

“My idea was to get you into a bath, maybe make you feel good, and wrap you up in my arms to sleep.” Marcus voices softly.

“Is that what you want to do?” He’s only undone two buttons on his shirt, and you rest one hand lightly on his chest to ground yourself in him and give him your full attention. You said it earlier in the night — you are both just out of relationships. If he wants to take things between you physically slow even if they are moving at emotional light speed, you’ll honor that and make sure he feels comfortable and safe.

“The romantic in me wants to wait for your birthday tomorrow night.” He admits, huffing at himself. “For sex. Not for making you cum.”

“Honey.” Your hand goes to your mouth instantly, stifling a witheringly heartfelt sigh, and you step into him immediately with a sort of lopsided smile settling into your features that tells him exactly how sweet you find that idea. “That is…quite possibly the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. And I adore you for wanting to make it special.”

“You don’t think it’s silly?” He’s been told he tries too hard or overthinks in relationships a lot and it’s something he’s worked on.

“No.” Shaking your head just once, you run your thumb over one of the buttons of his shirt and nearly sigh again. “I think it’s romantic. And it tells me you’re a thoughtful partner.”

“What do you want?” That is equally as important in this scenario as his own wistful flights of romantic fancy.

“I want to wake up with you tomorrow.” It might sound odd or even a little creepy to anyone else, but you’re confident that Marcus will understand. It’s not possessive or obsessive, it’s domestic and romantic in its own right. “Find out what you look like sleep mussed and bathed in sunlight all tangled in my sheets. Anything else that happens is a bonus.”

“Then let me take care of you tonight?” He asks softly, leaning in and kissing your forehead. “I can wait, and I want to make your weekend special.”

It’s impossibly romantic and probably the first time in your entire life that the man you’re romantically involved with isn’t clamoring to fuck you as quickly as humanly possible. Instead of making you feel less desirable, like it might have at earlier points in your life, it makes you feel special. Cared for. Like the fact that you have his focus means more than anything else ever could. “Okay,” you murmur, nodding once before you turn to shut off the hot water filling your bathtub. “If you prefer, there’s a little stool next to the sink. “You don’t have to get in with me unless you want to.”

“I don’t mind getting into the bath with you.” The idea of pressing his body against yours is incredibly erotic and sensual. “You can lean against me.”

“Okay.” Even as simple as a word is, the acknowledgement is important. Right now it’s just as important as the mounting hum of tension between you, and His your fingers prickly with the desire to continue undressing him. How you’re dying to press your bare skin to his, even if it doesn’t come with sex just yet.

He wonders if you are disappointed, if you are wanting him to just jump you and take you to bed. He wants to, but he wants to celebrate what is between you more.

"There's only..." Your hands go to your own buttons. Undressing yourself is not pressuring him, but just offering. Offering to deepen this connection and share this part of yourself. "Only one thing I want to ask...that's all. If it's okay with you?"

“Anything you want, sweetheart.” He’s willing to whatever you want to make you happy. “What do you need to ask of me?”

It seems silly, all things considered, but when you bite your lip it feels like asking permission to smile. "I just want to see the marks we share. On both of us."

Marcus chuckles and nods, finishing the buttons on his shirt and he slips it off his shoulders. “The most obvious one first, I think.”

"I hope you don't hate it." His shirt lands on the stool you had offered him, and yours follows it.

“I don’t.” He promises, smiling at you. “Your explanation makes complete sense, now that I know that it’s you.” He tells you. “A Hummingbird for my little hummingbird.”

"And you know why I was never on Mate Marks now." It was something he had pointed out at the State dinner and you had felt awfully about the way he took it. Thinking that you never wanted to be found, when in fact it's the opposite that is true. It's just that it was considered unsafe for you. Now, though? Now that you have him right in front of you? You can turn around and show him your back and let him see the hummingbird for himself.

Your bra is still on, but he doesn’t mind that, watching as you slowly turn to let him see the tattoo on your lower back. The hummingbird that has marked his own skin, the exact same one. “Does it look different on someone else?” You ask, suddenly afraid to see his reaction.

Reaching out, his fingers brush over the skin, feeling the slight rise in it where the ink has been pushed underneath. His own is flat, not raised and it’s a wonderful little contrast between your tattoo and its counterpart on his own body. “It looks beautiful.” He murmurs softly.

"If I had been older than eighteen, I might have had it put somewhere else," you admit with a wry laugh. "But I don't care as long as it helped us find each other."

“It’s discreet.” He snorts, still tracing it. “If you want it to be.”

"I tend to tuck my shirts into my pants these days." His fingers are burning hot but not in an unpleasant way. More like the tension and promise of them is scorching your skin with eagerness. "Or just wear a longer top layer. No bikinis, ya know?"

“That’s why there aren’t pictures of it out there.” He huffs slightly, amused that if you had been photographed it would have been splashed in some kind expose or something.

"It doesn't matter anymore." Before, discretion had been something that was agreed upon. You didn't want someone claiming to be your soulmate falsely and your parents considered it a safety concern. But now that you have Marcus? Any claim would be an obvious lie and easily taken care of. "You're what matters."

Marcus turns so you can see the tattoo on his skin, verifying the same design to you. “You matter too, sweetheart.”

You never thought it would be such an emotional moment, but it’s only in the last few days that you realize how silly that assumption was. Of course this is emotional. This connection goes far, far beyond any that you’ve made otherwise. It is, just like the ink marking both of your bodies, under your skin. The tears are more than you were expecting, and you wipe one away on your thumb after a pause. “Holy shit,” you laugh after a second. “It’s real…”

He lights up at the giddy excitement in your voice. The yearning has him turning around and wiping away another with his own thumb as he caresses your cheek. “It’s real, sweetheart. We’re real.”

When he turns to you fully you can see the scar from your childhood surgery on his torso, the line of healed flesh where the doctor cut into you as clear as day on his otherwise smooth skin. “I’m sorry,” you murmur quietly, tracing it with your fingers. “We were so young to have to carry this and know what it means…that we were always connected…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Marcus shakes his head, frowning at your apology. “I was worried about you.” He admits softly. “If I had known you, I would have been visiting you in the hospital.”

"I told you." A thin smile brightens your face, reminding him of what you said at the State dinner. "Appendicitis sucks."

“I will take your word for it.” He chuckles quietly and his fingers brush your scar. “Were you scared when it happened?”

"Terrified." You nod slightly, eyes transfixed on his fingers touching your skin. "I was six and I had never, ever felt that kind of pain before."

“Poor thing.” Kneeling down, he leans in and presses his lips to the scar.

You swallow hard as he reaches for the button on your pants, skin singing at every little bit of contact. It’s only a second before he pulls the zipper open that you frankly try to remember what panties you put on for today, but it doesn’t matter. Every stitch of clothing will be gone soon, and you’re okay with that. Losing the last barriers between the two of you is exactly what you want for this weekend.

He continues to kiss along the length of the scar, watching you looking down at him as he slowly opens your trousers. Finding it incredibly sexy that you are already breathless.

“Just had a mini panic,” you admit, raking your fingers through his short hair. “Can’t remember if I put on presentable panties today or not.”

He can’t help but laugh at the very normal fear. “I don’t care about what kind of panties you wear.” He promises with grin. “But I did wear my good boxer briefs.” He jokes. “Keep it all contained properly.”

“Can’t have you letting it all hang out.” When you laugh along with him, it comes out like a snort. “Very undignified.”

“Very.” He joins you in the laughing, his fingers running along the edge of your panties. “No erections allowed in wedding photos.”

“Fully permitted later in the night, though.” He’s still on his knees in front of you, and despite being nervous you reach behind yourself to unhook your bra. “In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s encouraged.”

“Well, of course it is now.” He huffs playfully, hooking his fingers into the band of your panties. The last scraps of fabric fall away, leaving you naked in front of him, and you shiver slightly without knowing if it’s the chilly bathroom or nerves that are doing it. Marcus debates, seriously debates, if he should just lean forward and bury his face into the pretty, neat little patch of hair. To use his tongue on you. When you shiver, he knows he needs to get you into the bath, so he stands quickly and unbuckles his belt.

You aren’t a virgin. You never claimed to be. At one-day-under-30, you’ve had your fair share of sexual and romantic partners, and not everyone in those two categories overlapped. Still, when Marcus pushes his boxer briefs and trousers away in one go, you inhale sharply at the first glimpse of his half-hard cock. If you hadn’t promised to let him take care of you, you might be reaching forward or dropping to your own knees — but you did. You promised. And you can barely hold back a smothered groan of regret at that fact because he’s stunning.

If it weren’t for the lusty, glazed look on your face, he might have thought something was wrong. As it is, his half hard cock twitches and hardens even more as he guides you towards the tub. “Get in, sweetheart.” He urges. “I’ll get us some towels.”

“The cupboard behind you.” They’re big, fluffy, soft things that you count as an indulgence, but they won’t be anywhere near as comfortable as having him in this bath with you. Still, you step into the hot, sudsy water without him, knowing he’ll follow in a minute.

Marcus grabs the towels and sets them close before striding back over to the tub. He’s not some Greek god, but he’s in good enough shape that there’s no reason to slump or hide as he walks towards you naked.

“Fuck.” Just one word groaned softly, but your eyes stay on him with every step. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Are you stealing my lines?” He teases, flashing you a grin as you sit in the sudsy water. “Because the only gorgeous thing I see is you.”

“We can both be gorgeous to each other,” you point out, still transfixed by him.

He had never really thought of it that way and shrugs slightly. “If you say so.” He bites his lip and watches you lean forward to give him room behind you.

The water is just a tiny bit high with both of you settled into the tub, but you don’t care. It’s not in danger of flooding the floors so you’ll just revel in being warm and comfortable with your soulmate for as long as the hot water holds out. You lean back against him, making him sigh softly in your ear and his arms come around you.

“Is this okay, hummingbird?” He murmurs quietly. “Can I touch you?”

“You know you can call me Birdie.” Settling back against him, you guide his hand around you and under the water to let him start exploring. “Hummingbird is my Secret Service call sign. Don’t wanna start accidentally moaning as a Pavlovian response whenever Agent Bailey says it.”

He chuckles quietly, a warm sound in your ear as he splays his hand over your stomach. “If you want me to.” He slowly starts to stroke your skin. “Hummingbird sounds a little more intimate, I thought.”

“Whatever you want, gorgeous.” The way he laughs and the way he touches you? You’d probably agree to anything right about now.

“Is that how I get my way?” He asks teasingly. “Get in a hot bath with you and I get what I want?” His hands, both of them, slide up to fill his hands with your tits and squeezes gently, enjoying the way your nipples harden against his palm.

“Apparently.” Sighing lets your body loosen even more in his arms and you rest heavily against his torso but your back arches to press your chest into his hands. “And ya know what? I’m okay with it.”

He laughs again, squeezes and then massaging the flesh before his thumbs brush over your nipples. “That’s right?” He asks. “You enjoying this? Feeling relaxed already?” Flicking your nipples again lightly before he cups your tits again.

“Mmmmm, it’s perfect,” you hum, letting your eyes slip shut to just enjoy the sensations.

“Good.” He’s slow to explore, letting the moment expand naturally and taking his time as he listens to your soft moans. Wanting to learn what makes you hum and purr like a kitten in his hands.

“Are you going to make a Goldilocks joke if I point out what big hands you have?” You ask, humming again when his large hand spans what feels like your entire thigh.

“The better to feel you with, my dear.” He growls into your ear playfully, squeezing your thigh slightly and massaging it gently.

The giggle you let out is low and deep, but cut off sharply by a gasp when his fingers ghost over your core. He hums, more of a raspy growl as he slides his fingers through the wet curls and into your folds. Groaning at the slickness that has nothing to do with the bath you are in.

“Fuck.” One syllable, repeated as many times as you want to tonight, and you drop your head back on his shoulder with a moan. “Feels so good and you’ve barely touched me.”

“That’s it, beautiful.” He coos softly. ��Just relax, I’m gonna take care of you.” The water ripples as he slowly starts to caress your folds, rubbing and stroking the velvety skin as he listens to you moan again.

Pliant is an understatement as Marcus starts to explore, gauging your reactions and keeping his other hand busy with your tits now that he’s figured out how much you love having them played with. The itch in the back of your mind that you’re neglecting him is very real, but this is what he wants tonight and what he’s ready to share with you, so you’ll just make tomorrow twice as good for both of you when you can share the sensations.

He keeps the motion of his fingers slow, sensual as they dance over your sensitive clit. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

“So good—” So good that your breath is coming short, shallow pants already and only occasionally punctuated by longer and deeper ones. It’s like he can read you as easily as a book. “So fucking good.”

He hums softly, keeping the pace up and his cock is throbbing against your lower back now that he is fully hard. He ignores it and squeezes your breast again before teasing the nipple. “That’s good, baby girl.”

Your hips tilt, searching for more pressure and trying to show him where to focus his attention, but Marcus is exploring. He’s learning. And as much as you love it, it’s making you twist and pant and rub against him in ways you’re sure are not helping the hard on pressed between you.

“Ohhhh my soulmate gets eager, hmmm?” He coos, chuckling at the way you are grinding against him. “What do you need sweetheart?”

"More." You aren't above begging and he's already professed to being a tease so you just bask in it when his husky voice is right by your ear. He doesn't mind that you're eager and you don't mind that he's a tease, which means there's going to be a whole lot of fun ahead of the two of you. "Please, baby? More?"

“I’ve got you.” He knows there is a fine balance between being a tease and tormenting someone. He turns his hand, his thumb pressing against your aching clit so he can push two fingers deep inside you. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

"Oh fuck." The whine that comes out of you is something unrestrained and probably louder than you meant it to be, but it hardly matters when he's stretching you out on two thick fingers. Your hands scramble for purchase, one clutching his arm against you and the other holding on to the side of the tub as he begins to finger fuck you slowly but determinedly.

“Gotta stretch you out.” He croons in your ear, his breath washing over your skin. “Get your tight little pussy ready for me tomorrow.” He curls his fingers up and continues the slow circles on your clit.

"Knew those fingers would feel amazing inside me." And after thinking about it for about two weeks solid, you're thrilled to find out exactly how right you were.

“Been thinking about that a lot?” He asks, deciding your ear lobe needs to be nibbled on.

"So fucking much." Every time his fingers dive back inside your cunt you give another wanton moan. "Almost as much as I've been thinking about your cock."

“Now that you’ve seen it, what do you think?” He’s curious because he knows you wouldn’t lie to him, he knows enough women have enjoyed him to not be too self-conscious, but you are his soulmate. Hopefully you will be pleased with the body the universe chose for you to share.

“I think I my imagination didn’t do you justice.” If it weren’t for his fingers moving inside you, you’d be riding that cock, but you can’t find it in yourself to be disappointed when he’s so fucking good with his hands. Instead you twist around, chest having as you claim a demanding kiss.

He groans into your mouth, cock twitching against your back as your tongue slides into his mouth. You taking control of kiss is incredibly sexy to him, and he pumps his fingers into you faster.

If you were flexible enough to reach in between your bodies and wrap your hand around his hard on, you would have done it ages ago. The angle you’ve twisted into to kiss him almost makes it work, but still not quite. It leaves you whining into the kiss as your legs quake, feeling yourself move closer and closer to that peak that he has aimed you toward.

It’s not as slow as Marcus had wanted. Expecting to coax you into a languid, drawn-out orgasm that leaves you boneless, you are insistent. Not that he could deny you, the entire point is to take care of you how you need it. Kissing you back with just as much fervor as you give him as he pushes you towards that pleasurable cliff.

It probably would have been more like the slow, sensual climb he had intended if you weren’t so hungry for him. So addicted to the way he tastes after barely the smallest sample that you just want to drown in him. It’s passion, and the kind of attraction that makes you feel like you’ll go crazy if you can’t have him burrowing under your skin. In the moment your hazy, pleasure-centric mind is wrapped solely around how he helps and tastes better than perfection, and how you never want it to end.

The kiss tangles deeper, winding through to his soul and squeezing it tights. Grunting into your mouth gently as he feels like he is home.

The whine in your throat gets tighter as you near that peak, glorious tension in the pit of your stomach flooding every other sense you have as you start to cum, except the unerring surety that this is exactly where you’re supposed to be. Right here. With your soulmate. Home.

The way you fall apart for him is breathtaking. Marcus moans in tune to your own cries, eyes closed as your walls tighten around his fingers and pulse with a throbbing tempo of pleasure. The water sloshing around you both as you shake for him.

The words stick in your throat, and whether it’s the soulmate connection or the post-orgasm bliss, or what, they hang there as you relax backward against him in a slump. Is it really that easy? Or has it been building since we met? You aren’t sure, but it’s there. Regardless of how or why.

He feels the second you soften, body relaxing against him and his fingers slow down. Drawing out the pleasure but not forcing any kind of overstimulation. Winding down until they are still inside you as he kisses you softly before pulling back to smile at your glowing face.

“You have very good ideas.” A soft laugh tumbles out of you as you work to suppress the instinct to declare yourself to him. This isn’t the right time. Or, at least, you’re afraid that it’s too soon despite the dreams you’ve already shared with him.

“Good.” He hums softly, kissing you again. “Relaxed, sweetheart?”

“Amazingly.” You can still feel him rock hard at your back, though, and your eyes search his. “Are you sure you don’t want a hand? Or any other part of me?”

He snickers the innuendo and leans in to kiss you again. “You don’t know how badly I want you.” He murmurs softly. “But your eyes are exhausted.”

“I hate that you’re right.” Wanting him so badly that it physically hurts doesn’t make you less tired, but it does make you more determined than ever to make sure tomorrow is incredible.

He chuckles softly and kisses your forehead. "You now know how I felt a couple of days ago." He reminds you softly. "It doesn't matter how long it takes, love." He promises. "We will get there and it will be amazing."

“Tomorrow.” The tone of your voice is absolutely certainty, it the yawn immediately after does put a pin in the point. “We will get there tomorrow.”

"Tomorrow." He agrees and shifts you forward slightly as he pulls his hand away from your core. "For now, we need to get some rest so you can party tomorrow without falling asleep."

“What do you want to do tomorrow before the party?” Standing on wobbly legs in the bath takes a second, but when you wipe all the suds away and step out you’re steady enough.

"You have the day off." He hums, getting out beside you and wrapping a towel around you. "We could start off with brunch if you wanted to. Or whatever you want to do? Go to the famer's markets around here?"

“I switched my day off this week to make sure the wedding would go smoothly,” you explain. He’s large and warm and strong, and the feeling of safety doesn’t elude you. “So we have the whole weekend together if we want it.”

"I want it." He immediately tells you, frowning slightly as he towels you off carefully. Ignoring the water dripping off his own body so he can attend to you. "If you do, of course."

“Of course I do.” Grabbing the second towel off the stool, you start to dry him in turn. “Just…didn’t want to be clingy. That’s been a point against me in the past.”

"You don't have to worry about me being upset." Marcus assures you. "I have that same problem sometimes too."

“Jump in head first and get too clingy and it overwhelms them?” To find out he’s the same way is an odd sort of relief and solidarity, if you’re honest with yourself.

Marcus snorts and gives you an embarrassed wince. "I did propose in the hallway at work?" he offers. "Not some of my best romantic work, and after reflecting on it, I was feeling like the relationship was slipping away and I was desperate to save it."

“This was Teresa?” He had told you a bit about his exes — just little tidbits — during your phone calls and you hum when he nods. “No offense, honey? But it doesn’t really sound like she had her shit together in that relationship. That was not your fault.”

"No, but I held on even harder when I should have just let go." He admits, sighing softly. "Too quick to jump in, to give my heart, to plan for the future."

“You’d think I would have learned my lesson when I got cheated on.” You shake your head, drawing your towel around yourself and shrugging. “Oops.”

"I can't fucking believe someone would be dumb enough to cheat on you." He snorts, rolling his eyes at the idiocy of his sex.

“The only good part of the whole thing is that I managed to cut his cheek when I threw the ring at him,” you huff, shaking your head again as the two of you move into your bedroom together. The age-old cliche of finding your partner in bed with someone else had been your horrible reality just a few years ago. “Asshole. I hope he has a scar.”

"Me too." He huffs, "but you don't need to worry about that with me." He knows it's sounding like a complete line, but it's the truth. "I would never – I went to break up with Vanessa because just knowing you were my soulmate, I couldn't give her what she deserved."

“I…I felt like I needed confirmation,” you admit. After giving it a few seconds of thought you simply discard your towel in the laundry basket and climb into bed naked, pulling back the sheets to invite him to join you bare. “Just knowing we both had tattoos in the same place wasn’t enough. It could have been totally different designs, and then I would have been the idiot who jumped to conclusions and ruined both of our relationships for some unfounded crush. And then…at the State dinner…finding out you have my scar, too? I knew that was it. Everything I already felt for you in that moment was more than I had ever felt about anyone else.”

"I understand now." He had been hurt, deeply hurt, but he won't tell you that now. He doesn't want you upset about that, when you needed to take time for yourself to accept the possibility.

“I’m sorry if I…if I did things wrong.” Waiting for him to get in bed makes you a little self conscious but you swallow the idea that you might deserve it. “I don’t really know how to walk up to a person and tell them that the universe thinks they’re my perfect match.”

"Don’t' worry about that," Marcus slides into the bed beside and you and gathers you into his arms. Wanting to fold you against him and hold you close. "All that matters is that we know now."

“I love you.” You might have held it back before, but when you exhale this time the words come out all on their own. “I know that’s a lot, and don’t feel like you have to say it back until you’re ready. But I — I’m very grateful it’s you.”

He stares at you for a moment and then starts to laugh. Leaning in and nudging his nose against yours. "Sweetheart, I love you too." He promises softly through the chuckles. "I think I fell in love with you over board games that first night." He admits. " I just didn't let myself believe it."

Exhaling deeply, you burrow into his side and bury your face, just letting the right release of relieved laughter roll through you. Watery eyes and sniffles are nothing now. Not compared to the elated smile on your face. “You looked like a dream when you came into the inn that day. Like you’d stepped right out of my fantasies.”

"I wanted to ask you out." He confesses. "Until I learned you were seeing Sam."

“It’s all okay now.” It’s perfect now, as far as you’re concerned, and you press your lips to his with a smile curved up at the corners. “We’re where we’re supposed to be.”

"In bed, where you are fighting sleep so you can talk to me?" He teases gently, smiling back into your lips.

“Yes,” you huff at him as adorably as you can.

He laughs again, settling back into the pillows and pulling you with him, humming when you settle down onto his chest like you belong there. "Go to sleep, hummingbird." He urges quietly. "I'll be here when you wake up. I'm not going anywhere."

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #love triangle

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mikachacha · 7 months

Text

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛) 𝙿𝚝.1

𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎, 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: slight angst and start of toxic relationship 🥹🥹

(A/N: im so nervous and happy to be finally uploading this piece here in tumblr 🥹🥹 ive been thinking about this for so long and finally had the courage to upload it now)

Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

It's been a week since you graduated in college and it still felt like a dream to you. You're one step closer to your dreams and how can you ever forget that day? It was the same day that Bada finally asked you out to be her girlfriend after knowing each other for a year. You couldn't believe your luck to have all your hard work finally pay off and to have such a gorgeous girl to be yours. It's like you've won the lottery.

"Baby, I have a surprise for youuu.." Bada said with a grin on her face and you looked at her, curiosity visible on your face which made her grin even more. You're hanging out in her apartment since you have nothing else to do and you're just waiting for a response from all the companies you've applied to, not that you're way too worried about it since you had other plans if no one responds.

"What is it?" you asked and she placed two plane tickets to Korea on the coffee table that made your eyes go wide and for you to hug her tight. Despite being Korean like her, you grew up in the states since your family migrated before you were even born. So going to Korea with Bada will be your first time there and you're thrilled.

"We're gonna go to Korea, go to my hometown and maybe introduce you to my family and close friends." she says and you couldn't stop yourself from kissing her. You're overjoyed. So many emotions are playing in your head. You're happy that you get to go to Korea, happy that she's going to introduce you to family and friends but also worried that they're not gonna accept you since you barely speak and understand Korean and don't know much about the culture.

Days pass and both of you are busy buying gifts for her parents, packing your things and last minute checking. You're ecstatic and Bada is happy seeing you get all excited. She loves how adorable you look and would often tell you so. She'd take you out on little dates, give you lots of love and just doing her best to make you feel loved. You loved it yet there's a small voice at the back of your head that kept saying it's a bit weird but you pushed it away as overthinking considering you came from toxic and abusive relationships.

"Alright, ready for our flight baby?" Bada asked and you nodded eagerly. You just arrived at the airport with her and she was holding your hand the whole time which made you feel giddy and loved. You gave her hand a gentle squeeze as you and her begin your adventure together.

The trip was long yet it was all worth it. When you landed, you were in awe. Everything is so different from the states, it's definitely a shock for you and you're just thankful that Bada is there to help you. She did the talking, navigating and just made your life much easier for you. When you were inside the cab, Bada turned a bit to talk to you since she said it's gonna take a while to reach her parents house which you didn't mind at all.

"Baby.. I know this will sound like shit but can we keep it low-key at my parents' house? Like we're gonna act like best friends while we're there since they're pretty traditional and don't really accept us as a couple yet. But don't worry, I will slowly talk to them about us so they'll be more open minded about us." Bada says and you feel your heart break from her words. You looked at her, trying to reassure yourself that your girlfriend is just playing a joke on you but the look on her face says otherwise. You wanted to cry, you wanted to get out of the cab and go back to the states but you forced yourself to think rationally. You took deep breaths and sighed, nodding your head. What else can you really do in this situation? You're already here, yeah it hurts but you also didn't want to ruin the trip for Bada.

"Alright.. But we'll talk more about this when we go back to the states." you said sternly and she nodded, placing kisses all over your face and saying sorry for putting you through the situation you're about to go through.

You finally arrived at her parents' house and they were waiting for you outside. Her parents welcomed you warmly and they even had a meal set up for you and Bada, saying that both of you must be starving from such a long trip which is quite true. Seeing the feast in front of you, you were amazed. Bada would always order Korean food or take you to a Korean restaurant, having authentic homemade ones really hits differently. Bada talked to her parents mostly while also translating stuff for you and you would also make an effort to talk to them in Korean to which Bada's parents really appreciated. It was fun, you felt happy that you forgot the pain you felt earlier when you were with Bada in that cab.

You both rested for a bit after the meal since Bada told you that she'll drive you around the neighborhood so you can fully enjoy Korea's beauty since the fall season has already begun. You didn't talk to her that much, you're still pretty upset from earlier and what made you more upset is she didn't try to talk to you. You were about to contact your best friend just to vent out when Bada took your phone and tossed it on the bed before kissing your lips. It's like she didn't want you to talk to anyone regarding her odd behaviour.

"What the fuck?" was all you could say after pulling away from her kiss and she looked at you, her eyes getting all sad and you strangely felt guilty even though you didn't do anything wrong.

"You're still upset.. I'm sorry.. I really wanted to introduce you to them as my girlfriend but then they won't welcome you and I don't want that to happen.." she says and hugs you, resting her chin on your shoulder.

"Yeah I'm still upset but what can I do, really? We're already here. Might as well stick to your plan until we get back to the states then we'll sort this out." you told her and she nodded, placing a kiss on your cheek.

She took you out that afternoon, driving around the neighborhood and taking you to the places she used to go to. Bada's really doing her best to make you feel loved, to make you feel special until you forget everything that happened earlier. You loved the affection you're getting from her. It got you thinking that maybe she's really making up for this whole situation and that everything will be okay eventually. You're really hoping for things to go well eventually for you and Bada.

"And this is where I usually grab dinner during my highschool days with my friends. They sell the best fried chicken here and their kimchi is to die for." Bada raves as she pulls you inside a small restaurant. You couldn't help but smile at how cute she is. You gave her hand a small squeeze as you followed her. You were busy looking around and bumped into her when she suddenly stopped. You were about to ask her why she stopped when you saw a guy in front of you and Bada.

"Who's this pretty girl with you, Bada?" the guy asked and you looked at Bada, confused. She smiles at you, before facing the guy again.

"Hey Howl. This is Y/N, my girlfriend." Bada said coolly and the guy just chuckled, shaking his head in amusement like he couldn't believe that you're Bada's girlfriend.

"I'm hurt, Bada. You didn't break up with me properly and now you're back with a girlfriend? Will this make us a trio now? Do we have an alternating schedule?" Howl teased and Bada just shoved Howl out of the way, not saying anything. You're stunned by the interaction and wanted to ask Bada what that was about but from the look on her face, you're sure that you won't be getting any real answers soon. You could feel your heart sink, the person you thought you knew might be hiding a secret from you. Maybe not just a secret, maybe you don't really know who the real Bada is.

#bada lee #swf2 #swf2 x reader #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #lee bada #bada lee imagine

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ladykailitha · 5 months

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The Magic of Christmas Part 6/8

Angst up ahead. Sorry. I had to rough things up a bit so they didn't get together too soon. But hey, at least it's Halloween. And yes, this was actually something my friends and I used to do for Halloween. It was fun.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

***

October in the Midwest was as beautiful as it was harsh. The temperature would take a sharp decline around this time of year, and if you weren’t prepared you could get caught outside in cold ass weather in a light jacket with no gloves, no hat, no boots.

In short, Steve in this moment.

He had gone off to work assuming it would be as warm as it was the day before. But no. Mother Nature had decided that summer was officially over, autumn was a fleeting season, and that winter was here.

So yeah, he was fucking miserable. He spotted Robin all nice and cozy and protested.

“How did you know it was going to be so cold?” he whined.

She rolled her eyes at him. “The weather app on my phone?”

Steve cursed under his breath. “It was literally sixty degrees yesterday, how am I freezing my balls off?”

Robin made a face. “Ew.”

A dark grin took over his face.

“What?” she asked as he inched closer. “Whatever you are about to do, don’t.”

He pounced and managed to get his cold hands under her coat close to her skin and she shrieked, trying to get away.

He chased her trying to warm his hands up.

Eddie arrived a few minutes later to find them rosy cheeked and laughing their asses off.

“You didn’t have to wait for me outside, you know?” he said, tugging on Steve’s sleeve to guide him toward the doors that would lead into the restaurant.

Robin peered around him as though she was looking for someone. “Chrissy not coming?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Eddie said, “Her finance professor decided that he was going to have pop quiz tomorrow and only gave them two days to study for it.”

Steve grimaced. “I bet it was Callahan. That guy’s an ass. Especially if there are more than three girls in his class.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “That’s right, I forgot you must have gotten your business degree if you’re running your own business.”

“Worthless as it is to actual fucking business,” he groused.

They walked into the restaurant and Eddie immediately clocked why they had been waiting for him outside. It was hotter than the Devil’s tit in here and it was crammed wall to wall with people.

“Reservations for four under the name Harrington,” Steve said when they reached the hostess.

She scanned her list. “No one under that name for tonight.”

Steve frowned. “Today is the 11th, right? It is six o’clock right? How is my name not on the list?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the hostess said briskly. “There is no one under that name for six o’clock.”

“How about Buckley?” Robin asked, stepping forward.

She scanned her list again. “Nothing for six.”

Eddie frowned. “Okay, then for what time?”

The hostess blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“You clearly have a Buckley on your list,” Eddie explained, “as you didn’t say no to the name, just the time. So what time is the reservation for?”

“Well,” the hostess said with a sneer, “if you can’t remember the time, how do I know you are the Buckley that made the reservation?”

Robin pulled out her ID and handed it to her. “It’s under Robin Buckley for tonight, if not 6pm then 6:30pm.”

The hostess took her ID and looked from it to her and then back again several times. She sighed heavily. “Yes, we have a reservation at 6:30 under that name.”

They were shown to their seats and sat down.

The food was terrible, the service was worse, and the prices for the food were exorbitant for what they got.

Steve left the bare minimum of a tip, roughly eighteen percent and they were chased out of the restaurant by a screaming server demanding more tip.

“Well that was horrific,” Robin said as they all huddled inside Steve’s car, waiting for the cops to arrive so that they could get the screaming lady away from them so Eddie could get to his van and Steve could drive off safely.

“And who’s idea was this anyway?” Eddie hissed. He had never been treated that badly by anyone in his life. And he was a metalhead in high school.

Steve ducked his head down. “It was mine. But I had heard nothing but good things about it from my colleagues for weeks. I just want to do something unique.”

“That was unique all right,” Eddie growled. “Getting yelled and chased for leaving a decent tip. Congrats, zero for ten would never do it again.”

“I’m sorry!” he cried. “It’s never happened to me before either.”

“Whatever.”

Just then the cops arrived and the server went dashing back into restaurant the second she saw them. They talked to Steve and got his information and his version of events. Ten minutes later, Steve and Robin were on their way home in silence and a very pissed off Eddie was on his way back to his place.

“Edward Allen Munson!” Chrissy snapped after Eddie told her about his night. “Are you seriously telling me that you think that Steve, your Steve would deliberately take you to a restaurant were they were rude to you, the food was bad, and then proceed to get chased out said restaurant to humiliate you?”

“Not when you say it like that,” he muttered looking down at his hands.

“You think?!” she screeched. “How could you possibly think that of Steve?”

Eddie picked at the thread of the rip of the knee of his jeans. “It was a lapse in judgment, okay! I don’t really think of him like that! I don’t. I–I don’t.”

“So do you want to tell me what was going through your head?” Chrissy asked.

“All the times that I got made fun of for the way I dress,” Eddie muttered, “the music I liked, the games I played, the art I drew. I could see it all happening again like it was in slow motion.”

She threw her arms around his shoulders. “But Steve isn’t like that. He hired you for you. Your art, the way you dress. Then he liked you as a person. A person who made him laugh, who drew him out of his shell, who looked him in the eye and said, ‘I won’t hurt you.’ Only you did, Ed. So much.”

“I’ll make it up to him,” Eddie promised.

“You better.”

Only two days later Robin messaged him to say that one the charities he was on the board for just got indicted for fraud and that for the next couple of weeks Steve was going to be living in the office until got it figured out.

But apparently the universe was out to get Eddie because the next thing he knew Steve was on his way to London because one of the companies Steve’s own company had been trying to buy for literal years was finally willing to sell.

So off Steve went. And Robin went with him. Leaving behind two very bereft artists.

It was getting close to Halloween and Eddie was getting worried. So he called Robin.

“You guys will be back in time for Halloween, right?” he asked nervously. “I’m not DMing a one-shot in your house if you guys aren’t in it.”

“We’re working on it,” Robin promised. “It’s just one of the original owners is dragging his feet on one sentence in one paragraph. And it’s stupid and pointless.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. That does sound bad.”

“I’ll keep you guys posted,” she said firmly. “We’ll make it back even if I have to shank the old bastard.”

Eddie laughed feeling easier about the Halloween party.

“I’ll be your alibi,” he said with a grin.

“You’re on!”

They barely made it in town by the 29th. Steve was running on two hours of sleep and bleary-eyed when he fell into bed that night. Robin had insisted that they stay up until at least nine to avoid jetlag.

Something that Steve struggled with mightily, but sleep was bliss once he was allowed to crawl into his bed.

He woke up at eleven the next morning, still tired, but finally alive enough to function beyond zombie-like.

Robin and Steve got to work cleaning the house. Technically Claudia and Dustin lived there, too. But she had recently started dating again and spent most of her time at his place. So in the house hadn’t been lived in during the two weeks they were gone.

They got the dining room set up for the game and then went shopping. Steve was going all out.

He bought ingredients for pizza and as many toppings as he could think of. Sausage, ground beef, bacon, peppers, onions, mushrooms, ham, hell he even grabbed pineapple in case someone wanted it. He was also making two different kinds of sauce. A white cheese and a marinara.

He got everything prepared and in the fridge, then tomorrow he was going to make the dough.

“You have really outdone yourself,” Robin said patting him on the shoulder. “Those little shitheads better appreciate your hard work.”

Steve scoffed. “They won’t.”

“True,” Robin said with a laugh.

Eddie wasn’t sure what he thought of Steve’s house. At least from the outside. It was very post modern and a little ugly.

But when he was led in, he fell in love with the place. It was warm and welcoming and so soft.

If Eddie had been a writer he would have spoke to the metaphor of the house being like Steve. Looking pretentious and aloof on the outside, but warm and inviting on the inside.

The guilt from the last time he saw Steve burned in his gut. He had railed against judging a book by its cover for so long, that he forgot what that actually meant.

“So are the kids here yet?” Eddie asked as she took his coat.

Robin shook her head. “Not yet. But they should be in about a half hour. Steve wanted to give you time to set up before they got here to ‘deepen the surprise’ as he called it.”

Eddie grinned. “Lead the way!”

She lead him to the dinning room with the long oak wood table. It was gorgeous.

“We don’t usually eat in here,” she said as he set up. “There’s a lovely little breakfast nook in the kitchen that’s better suited for our eating needs, but I figured that you’d want more space for your game.”

“Brilliant as always, Birdie,” Eddie said, kissing her cheek.

“Oi!” Steve said from the other door to the dinning room. “No stealing my lesbian. You have one of your own.”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, yeah.”

Now that the door was open delicious smells came wafting through the air.

“Holy shit, Stevie,” he gasped. “What are you making? I thought it was booze and pizza tonight, nothing fancy.”

Robin laughed as Steve ducked his head.

“This guy do anything simple?” she asked mockingly. “Never!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Homemade just tastes better than fast food.” He turned on his heel and walked back into the kitchen.

“Only because you’re a food snob!” she crowed after him.

Eddie shook his head. “I’ve never gotten why people can be such snobs about food. It all comes out the other end in the end.”

Robin snorted. “That’s be we both grew up poor. Steve didn’t have boxed mac and cheese until he moved in with me.”

“But boxed mac is the best!” Eddie protested.

“Only if you haven’t had his grandmother’s mac and cheese. It’s made in a casserole dish with bread crumb topping and extra cheese sprinkled on top at the end for extra gooeyness.”

Eddie straightened up. “One moment please.”

He walked into the kitchen like a man on a mission. “You sir have been holding out on me. You have a grandma approved mac and cheese recipe and you haven’t shared?”

Steve who had started the rant confused, threw back his head and laughed. “Sorry, Eds. I’ll bring to the next movie night. I promise.”

Eddie nodded and then turned on his heel to go back to setting up the D&D game.

Once everything was set up and they were just waiting for the kids to arrive, Eddie took time to suss out how badly he had fucked up.

“You are going to still join us, right?” Eddie asked chewing on his lower lip nervously.

Steve crumpled. “I want to. I do, but I’m so tired.”

“You would have been so tired if you had ordered pizza like the rest of us heathens, you know that, right?” Eddie said, bumping their shoulders together.

“If I’m being honest,” Steve said, scratching his cheek, “I wasn’t sure if you’d still wanted me to.”

Eddie threw his arms around him and sighed. “I’m sorry, Stevie. Of course I want you here. It’s sometimes I get locked into the us verses them mentality and forgot that you aren’t like that.” He tilted his head to side with big smile. “Plus we get to freak out your goblins not once, but twice if you play.”

Steve blinked for a moment. “Nope, you’re absolutely right, that is a fantastic idea.”

Eddie grinned. “You can play until your first death and then you can go to bed. Robin and I will handle it from there.”

“Sounds like a perfect plan,” he said with a smile.

They were close, so close. All it would have taken was to lean forward just a little and they would have been kissing.

But of course that was when the Party decided to arrive.

Steve got down their pizza orders and popped them into the oven. Then he lead them to dining room.

“Why are we eating out here?” Mike asked. “I hate that long table, it makes me feel like a peasant in a king’s castle or some shit.”

“Robin is making the drinks,” Steve said, “which means she needs the full bar to make them. There’ll be a menu and each of you will be given cups with lines on them. Once you hit the top line, it’s water and soda for the rest of the night. Do you understand?”

Everyone nodded. Even Mike. They knew that Steve had risked a lot of clout with their parents for this and they did not want to blow that for him.

Suddenly Dustin was tugging on Steve’s sleeve. “Why is Eddie Munson in our house?”

Everyone else turned and looked at the head of the long the table. Sure enough, there was Eddie, waving at them.

“Settle on in, my stalwart adventurers,” Eddie greeted warmly. “Your D&D accouterments are over by the door. You’ll have ten minutes to get ready and then we’ll start the haunted forest one-shot campaign for five.”

Everyone looked around and counted off.

“Are you playing and DMing?” Lucas asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Steve walked over to the door and pulled out a set of brightly yellow dice and sat down next to Eddie. “Nope.”

And suddenly there was pandemonium as they realized that Steve was playing with them.

Steve ended up playing the whole night, having been sucked into the story telling. After it was over and Steve was curled up with Dustin on the floor of the living room where everyone was camped out in sleeping bags including Eddie and Robin, Dustin thanked Steve.

“This was awesome, Steve,” he murmured drowsily. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I knew how upset you were about not being able to meet him,” Steve said, “especially since I work with him all the time for the charity.”

Dustin lifted his head. “So you came up with this as a way to make up for it?”

Steve hummed.

“Thanks, Steve.”

“You’re welcome, bud.”

As they drifted off to sleep, Eddie smiled to himself under the comfort of his sleeping bag. Yeah, Steve was a good dude.

****

Part 7 Part 8

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #christmas #artist eddie #businessman steve #autistic steve harrington

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sinner-sunflower · 12 days

Text

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 19/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

Another reminder that not all chapters are happening in continuous days. Sometimes a week or a month go by but I'm not gonna say that every chapter lajsdlajl

We are channeling our inner Lucifer who has no concept of time and feeling like the days are blending in with one another.

A short but SIGNIFICANT chapter

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Lucifer had never opened a portal so fast in his life. Hearing those outrageous words from Nifty made him sprung into action, not even caring that he's leaving Adam behind. He's pretty sure the guy will be fine even if he is bound within palace walls.

Maybe he should've asked Nifty to elaborate more because what the fuck does 'the sky is falling' mean?? But his daughter could be in danger so he'll figure it out there.

It was Charlie who calls for him as soon as he arrives.

Charlie: Dad!

Lucifer: Char-char! What's going on? I'm so sorry. Adam and I were busy and I put a ward on the palace and my phone was silent and why is Nifty saying the sky is falling?? Charlie-

Charlie: Dad! Just- come with me outside!

She all but drags him by the arm out the hotel doors to a sight he never thought he'd witness outside of Earth.

Lucifer: Wha- What in the unholy hell?

He feels breathless. It's horrifying but also.... so captivating.

From the heavens above, a cascade of meteors descended, their fiery tails of gold painting the skies of Hell. Each impact further damaged and eventually destroying the Pentagram barrier.

Screams ensue the moment the first meteor hits one part of Pride. Following that are continuous deafening crashes, the meteors struck with indiscriminate force, wreaking havoc on his denizens. Glass shattered, concrete crumbled, and chaos ensued as residents fled for safety, their once familiar surroundings now transformed into a scene of destruction.

One meteor veered off course, hurtling straight towards the hotel. Lucifer vaguely hears Charlie shouting for them to take cover and catches sight of Alastor putting up a shield for them.

He hears his daughter shout for him but he stays rooted in place as the object landed just a stone's throw away from where he stands.

When the dust clears, he feels himself freeze as amidst the rubble lay a figure, not of space rock, but an angel, a dead low ranking angel.

Now grounded in Hell and no longer have its majesty. It is mangled, burned, and broken.

Fallen.

Lucifer cannot speak as he keeps staring at the crumpled figure in front of him. Its once luminous wings now tattered and singed. He knows he should do something but what? His people are terrified and his city is getting the brunt of the mass Fall.

The King of Hell doesn't move when Charlie and the other sinners run to his side. He senses them freezing and someone vomiting (probably Vaggie-he can understand) because of the body. The angel bodywhatthe fuck-

Charlie: Vaggie! Dad!... why-what- is that an angel?!

Angel: Move, Vagina, I think I'm gonna be sick too.

Cherri: Way ahead of ya, Angie.

Husk is rubbing circles on Angel's back as the spider pukes out the his lunch. He wants to comfort Angel fully but he's all too distracted by the dead angel on the ground.

Alastor moves closer to poke the body, bringing his blood soaked finger to his mouth to taste.

Alastor: How peculiar....

Lucifer had barely begun to grasp the gravity of the situation when he felt something wet hit his face. He slowly reached up to the spot, fingers coming away coated in a golden substance. Confusion were written in their faces as they look back up as the liquid began to pour from the sky like rain.

His ears begun to feel like he's underwater- screams and choking sounds echoed throughout his city as the thick gold coats every single corner of Pride.

'No.'

He whispered, the realization hitting him like a delayed blow. As the metallic scent finally reached his nose, he collapsed to all fours, unable to stop his own gagging. He knew what this was, but he refuse to believe it.

'This can't be real.'

He could sense Vaggie in a similar state nearby, both of them struggling to breathe and think because this is angel blood.

Lucifer falls face first on the wet ground that's shimmering gold to the endless distance. He passes out from the smell before he knows it.

Heaven is falling.

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

I feel like this is not what yall expected to happen as the beginning of the final arc.

A Supernatural reference? In 2024?

The blood rain is also inspired by that one quadrant in the 2nd Hunger Games movie. Because I, too, would gag and probably choke on my own vomit if I was suddenly rained on by human blood, or any blood for that matter.

We're finally getting there.

Let me know what you guys think so far!

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eviebane · 7 months

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Maggie is a Nephilim (hear me out)

Yes, I know. We've seen theories that Maggie is a demon, that she's an angel. But on my nth rewatch last night, I thought, what if she's a Nephilim?

I have never seen this theory until this morning this pops up on my dash so give this a read too This is also a great post on who/what is Maggie

What is a Nephilim?

The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of man and they bore children to them. These were the mighty men who were of old, the men of renown [Genesis 6:4 English Standard Version]

The Hebrew word Nephilim is sometimes translated as "giants" and sometimes taken to mean "the fallen ones". Some view them as offspring of fallen angels and humans. Another view that aligns with the fallen angel interpretation includes Nephilim being the offspring of demon possessed men and godly women. [Source]

I'm presenting the possibility that Maggie is half angel and half demon.

Maggie doesn't drink just like angels (except Azi) don't drink alcohol. I'm not sure she drinks/eats anything on screen?

"No judgement" is also an interesting response. We know angels judge a lot for consuming human things. Did she grow up around this judgement?

We know she sleeps at least, but so do demons.

2. Maggie struggles with spelling just like most demons.

The only characters with spelling issues are demons and Maggie. The writers are too good for this to not mean something. It is the first thing we learn about her character!

3. Maggie doesn't "know how to conduct a courtship". Her language in general is... strange.

She seems to have similar concepts of love to Aziraphale from books - she was hoping to get locked in with Nina so they could talk about her feelings, like literally locked in a room together trope and she loved the awning scene and the dance.

4. Aziraphale assumes she can feel the angels arriving.

I don't think Azi is aware there's anything different about Maggie, but just like Shax's comment about her being a nobody, the ethereal and occult alike seem to sense something different about Maggie.

5. The Record Shop

Love of records - literally the only other characters who have expressed interest in records are angels (Azi, Gabriel) or demons (Beelzebub, Crowley-ish). The humans (Nina) question why she bothers with them.

I can't help but wonder, if something is different about Maggie, does she know that Aziraphale is an angel? Did she seek out that particular corner that used to be his bookshop (a former outpost of Heaven!) for her record shop? To keep safe because she thinks Heaven or Azi may protect her if needed, or perhaps to keep an eye on Heaven because they don't know about her existence or could pose a threat to her. Ultimately we don't know how Heaven or Hell feels about Nephilim (though Adam could have been a Nephilim, if his mother was human).

6. Maggie is very calm during the Whickber Street Association Dance (I mean- Formal Business Meeting) and the attack on the bookshop.

The humans (mostly Nina) repeatedly question what is going on and are in fear of their lives.

She literally looks Shax in the eye and is unbothered! The show made it VERY clear to us that Maggie isn't fazed by demons.

What possible reason would they have to put this in the show? I don't think the 'allowing them entry' accident is motive enough alone to have this in the show. The writers are phenomenal, they would have found alternative ways to get the demons in that bookshop if they wanted Maggie to be as scared as the humans were.

Honey what have you been scared of your whole life??

We've seen nothing big in her backstory that might explain why she's spent her life being scared of things. But what if she's spent her life hiding - from Heaven, Hell?

7. Nina calls Maggie 'angel'.

This could be to highlight a parallel between Nina/Maggie and Crowley/Aziraphale, but I still think this particular choice of endearment was interesting.

8. Azi's miracles do not work on her.

Nephilim are typically more powerful than their angel parent, so it's possible that it didn't work on Maggie because she is more powerful than Azi, a principality.

Which means she is 100% acting normally during the whole dance scene, not under any influence from Azi unlike the humans.

9. Maggie's clothing seems to lean more toward what angels wear - white - but then she's got a lot of colour.

Perhaps this is to show her goodness like the angels, but also her humanity. (like Adam being 'human incarnate'?)

Her necklace is a toucan, which has different culture symbolisms. The most interesting for this comparison being; wisdom, communication, a messenger from the gods, divinity, grace, and higher knowledge. It is a very interesting animal to associate to Maggie's character.

Birds (though doesn't appear to be a toucan) are also on her clothing.

Also, her yellow cardigan reminds me of the Ladies of Camelot?

I feel like Maggie has the most diverse wardrobe out of any of the characters. We see her in pretty much every colour of the rainbow whereas other characters stick to similar colour palettes.

10. What if Maggie has owned the record shop since the 1920s - that her 'great grandmother' owned it in the 1920s the same way Aziraphale's 'grandfather' owned the bookshop?

The same way her 'great grandmother's' ring could have maybe been hers in another life, to a human that died.

If Maggie has also been alive longer than she seems, it would explain why she was 'not that sort of teenager'. Perhaps she was raised in Heaven, Hell, or in secrecy. Perhaps she came into the world in an adult form.

Credit to all the wonderful accounts for images & GIFs: wearecrowley, goodomensgifs, vinylattes, purplexedhuman, sparknala, fandommiss, sainztander, raywooposts, mametupa, noneorother, ferndaphnia, halemerry, drconstellation, rosettyller, sparknala, mametupa

That's my Nephilim theory. But here's an extra, special crazy addition:

Maggie is the offspring of Crowley & Aziraphale.

It's a very popular idea that someone (Metatron, God, who knows) has been messing with timelines. If Maggie is a demon and angel hybrid, what couple would that lead us to suspect as the parents?

Maybe only one of them is the parent. Crowley is a fallen angel, it could fit with the idea that Nephilim are the offspring of a fallen angel and human. Aziraphale, too, in many ways, could also be considered 'fallen'.

What's one, sure-fire thing to make Crowley & Aziraphale believe their love is safe, true, right, okay to be felt?

A product of their love.

If someone has been messing with timelines, Maggie could have been born in the future, and either as a result of someone messing with time, or through her own powers, have travelled back in time to be there when her parents needed her most, to prevent the Second Coming.

We know how powerful Aziraphale and Crowley are when they work together. Can you imagine the enormous power an offspring of theirs could have? It would be monumental in the fight against Heaven and Hell.

We also know they have the power to hide an archangel. Could their future-selves have hidden Maggie, and now even their past (present day) selves can't see her true self?

It's Maggie who insists to Nina that they should talk to Crowley & Aziraphale about their feelings, Nina says it won't help, Maggie says we should try anyway. Maybe she thought it was the only way to get Aziraphale to stay, if he knew how Crowley felt about him, and that it could somehow thwart the Second Coming that she's seen in the future and is now trying to avoid.

Maggie is associated with toucans- messengers of God, wisdom, higher knowledge. Her blue cardigan has birds. (No nightingales). Her yellow cardigan has what looks like the Ladies of Camelot, the night that Azi performed the magic show and Crowley nearly shot him. What if the ring on her necklace is a future wedding ring belonging to Azi or Crowley - who died in the Second Coming in her timeline? She has Azi's love of records and Crowley's sense of humour.

For the Ineffable Husbands, a product of their love would be huge in overcoming the barriers that they - and Heaven, Hell - have put between them. It would show Crowley that he isn't truly evil at heart, that he is a good person. It would show Aziraphale that God accepts their love, or at least won't prevent it. That their feelings are okay, safe. They can be an us. That they truly do work best as a team.

We've speculated that either Crowley or Aziraphale will (temporarily) die in Season 3. What if it's Maggie?

Just to end by saying I don't think this will be true for season 3, but I enjoyed putting this together.

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heli-writes · 11 months

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A marriage of convenience, part 4: the honeymoon.

Pairing: Yoriichi x you

Summary: Yoriichi's friends think that Yoriichi is too lonely and needs a wife and family to take care of him. They propose a marriage of convenience to a woman who's in need of a husband. The arrangement of the marriage is simple: both parties live their lives as before, y/n takes care of Yoriichi as a wife and Yoriichi keeps unwanted men (and demons) away. Love is not required, friendship is appreciated. However, how detached can one be when living so close to each other?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Series Masterlist

*~*~*~*~*

It's a special day for Yoriichi today. The Kamado family promised to visit today. It's the first time he and (y/n) have acquaintances over. He noticed that (y/n) is somewhat anxious about it. She did her best in preparing food and cleaning the house. It's clear that she wants to make a good impression on his friends.

The Kamados arrive around midday. Yoriichi, (y/n) and (y/s/n) greet them at the door and invite them into the modest house. (Y/n) starts to serve lunch and the rest settles around the small table. It's almost too small for everyone. Maybe we need to get a bigger table, Yoriichi thinks to himself. "So, Yoriichi, have you and (y/n) settled? It must've been quite the change for the both of you.", Sumiyoshi initiates a conversation. "Yes, it was, but we get along fine.", Yoriichi answers the unspoken question by his friend. Sumiyoshi nods content. "That's good to hear.", he decides. At that moment (y/n) brings over the last plates and takes a seat next to Yoriichi. They wish each other a good meal and start eating. Sumiyoshi compliments (y/n)'s cooking and she thanks him with a red tint on her cheeks.

"So, (y/n), we've heard that you have your own business? That must be quite a lot of work.", Suyako asks (Y/n). (Y/n) nods and replies: "Sometimes it is. But it's work I love, so most of the time it doesn't feel like work at all." "That's the best kind of work. It means you've found your calling.", Sumiyoshi points out happily. (Y/n) nods smiling. "Actually, the art of healing runs in my family. My mother taught me as her mother taught her.", (y/n) explains. "So, it's a family business?", Suyako asks. "Well, it's just me these days. But our knowledge has been passed down and expanded over generations.", (y/n) answers. Sumiyoshi nods approvingly. "It's reassuring for us to know that someone with your abilities lives together with Yoriichi. In his line of work, you never know when one comes home hurt.", he states. "I understand what you mean. I worry about this too. But so far Yoriichi hasn't come out with even a scratch.", (y/n) notes. Yoriichi clears his throat and joins the conversation: "I wouldn't want to be a burden to you." (Y/n) puts a hand on his arm that rests on the table. "You could never be a burden.", she exclaims, "You know, Yoriichi really is a low-maintenance man. He never asks for anything or complains.". Yoriichi notices how Sumiyoshi and Suyako exchange glances after seeing (y/n)'s hand on his arm. He pulls his arm away in embarrassment.

"Oh, we totally forgot to ask! How was your honeymoon?", Suyako suddenly exclaims excitedly. Sumiyoshi quickly pokes her with his elbow. Surely that's the last thing Yoriichi wants to talk about. However, when he looks into the perplexed faces of (y/n) and Yoriichi, he and his wife are flabbergasted. "Wait… you did have a honeymoon, right?", Suyaki asks. "Well…", (y/n) starts out. "We haven't had the time yet.", Yoriichi helps her out. At this moment, (y/s/n), who sits next to (y/n), grabs the sleeve of (y/n)'s kimono and points toward Sumire who is settled on her mother's lap. "Do you want to go play?", (y/n) asks the two children who nod in return. "Alright, you don't have to sit at the boring adult table. How about you play some games in the bedroom?", (y/n) says and gets up. She takes the two children to the bedroom, happily to escape the awkward honeymoon conversation.

After (y/n) is out of the room, Sumiyoshi and Suyaki turn to Yoriichi with an outraged expression on their faces. "You didn't take her on a honeymoon, Yoriichi?", Suyaki asks reproachfully. "There was no need for it.", Yoriichi answers calmly. "Of course, there is!", Sumiyoshi stresses, "Especially in your case." "I don't think I can follow. Honeymoons are for newlyweds in love.", Yoriichi states. "I mean, kind of yes," Sumiyoshi replies. "But it's also great to get to know the other person better. Considering you married a total stranger, it would be good to spend some time together and get to know her.", Suyaki explains. "I got to know her here as well.", Yoriichi tries to argue. "Oh really?", Suyaki says crossing her arms, "So what does (y/n) like to do for relaxation?" Yoriichi thinks for a moment. "Tending to her herb garden.", he concludes almost triumphantly. Sumiyoshi and Suyaki exchange appalled looks. "You mean her herb garden from which she makes her medicine that she then sells?", Suyaki says disapprovingly, "That's work, Yoriichi, not relaxation." Yoriichi presses his lips together in a small line. He hates to admit it but he actually has no idea what (y/n) does for relaxation or a hobby. "You see, Yoriichi, a getaway together is not a dumb idea. You'll live together with this woman, well, forever, I guess. You could at least make the effort to get to know her.", Suyaki concludes. Yoriichi stays silent, too embarrassed to admit that Suyaki is right. Sumiyoshi tries to lighten the mood and proposes: "Well, it's not too late for a honeymoon. Why don't you and (y/n) take off a few days? You could walk up to Mount Kameshima. Rent a room at the local village for a few days and enjoy the hot springs. What do you think?" Yoriichi is not happy about his friend's idea. "I'm not sure (y/s/n) would have a lot of fun. He's a really active child, you know…", he tries to worm his way out of this situation. Suyaki gives him a bittersweet smile. "That's not a problem. He can stay with us. That way you can really get to know your wife." Yoriichi looks at her defeatedly. Seems like there is no way out of this. Suyaki claps her hands together and stands. "Then it's decided. I am going to tell (y/n) about this.", she says. Sumiyoshi looks at him apologetically. "I'm really sorry, my friend. Once my wife sets her mind to something, there's no going back."

*~*~*~*~*

The atmosphere is so thick one could cut it with a knife. (Y/n) and Yoriichi walk silently beside each other. After they dropped off (y/s/n) at the Kamados, they started their walk up to Mount Kameshima. Since the drop-off, they haven't really spoken to each other. (Y/n) tried to stir a conversation a few times but quickly noticed that Yoriichi wasn't in a good mood. It's clear to her that he's rather upset about the whole honeymoon idea. While they make their way up the mountain, (y/n) gets lost in her own thoughts. When Suyaki told her about the honeymoon, she was surprised but not opposed to it. She can't see what Yoriichi's problem is with this. The lines are drawn and it should be obvious that they won't be crossed at home or in a nice guest house at a hot spring. (Y/n) can't remember when the last time was that she had a day off. She loves (y/s/n) dearly, but being a mother also means always being on duty. She can't wait to hit the hot springs and relax for a couple of days. Suyaki was so nice and organized the whole thing for them. All Yoriichi and (y/n) had to do were pack their bags.

It will take them half a day to walk up to the local village. (Y/n) prepared some lunch boxes for both of them. Since it is their holiday, she even went all out and baked some cake with sweet icing. They only had a quick breakfast and they're already halfway there. (Y/n) starts to get tired and feels her stomach rumbling. "Hey Yoriichi,", she says almost out of breath, "Can we take a break somewhere soon?" Yoriichi still looks as fresh as when they started their walk but nods when he sees the slight layer of sweat on (y/n)'s forehead. "Great!", (y/n) beamed, "But I want to have lunch with a view! Let's see if we can get away from these trees so we can look onto the valley.". The two leave the path and walk for a while until they find a spot close to the edge of the mountain. They sit down beneath a tree and (y/n) takes out the lunch boxes. They start eating in silence. It's a nice day. It's warm and sunny but not too hot. (Y/n) closes her eyes for a moment and enjoys the cool breeze on her face and hair. She doesn't notice Yoriichi staring at her. Yoriichi clears his throat. "So, what do you wanna do the next days?", he asks her. (Y/n) crooks her head. "Hm, good question. I definitely want to soak in the hot springs! I've also heard that there are some caves around this area to which locals offer guided tours to.", she says. "Caves?", Yoriichi asks uncertainly. (Y/n) nods, "Yes. There's a creek that flows through a cave system. Part of it can be safely explored on small boats. It's a tourist attraction around here." "We can do that if you want to.", Yoriichi notes. (Y/n) smiles at him happily. Yoriichi starts to feel a bit bad. It's clear that (y/n) is excited about this trip and he would prefer to be anywhere else than here. "Is there anything you would like to do?", (y/n) asks him. Yoriichi shrugs, "Not really." (Y/n) expected this answer. "Well, we can also split up somewhen. You don't have to do all the things I would like to do.", she proposes. Yoriichi can't meet her eye at that. Clearly, she noticed that he doesn't want to spend time alone with her. "Hey", she nudges him, "Just because Suyaki calls this a honeymoon, it doesn't have to be one. For me, it's just a kid-free vacation. You won't have many of these in the future, so you should make sure that you enjoy it!". (Y/n) gives him a lopsided grin ad Yoriichi relaxes at that a bit. They finish their meal in peace and then continue their journey.

(Y/n) is exhausted by the time they arrive and even Yoriichi feels a bit tired. The guest house they are staying at is run by a nice elderly couple who have already been waiting for them when (Y/n) and Yoriichi make their appearance at their front door. Mrs. Nakamura shows them their way to the room. "This guest house is often booked by newlyweds. So I'm sure you will enjoy your stay.", she explains as they arrive at the door. "We also took care of your extra requests. If anything is missing, just tell us.", she says as she quickly disappears into the hallway. "Extra request?", (y/n) wonders out loud and Yoriichi only shrugs. When they enter their room, they quickly notice what Mrs. Nakamura meant. In the middle of the room lies a large two-person futon with rose petals on top which form a way to the front door. There's also a bottle of sake and some mochis on a table near the wall. "This must be Suyaki's work.", Yoriichi notes. "That's for sure.", (y/n) deadpans. She walks into the room and puts down some of her luggage. As she turns around to Yoriichi, she asks: "But she's aware of the circumstances of this marriage, right?" Yoriichi nods. "She is, but she's also a hopeless romantic.", he points out. "Or she likes teasing us. I'm sure we can ask Mrs. Nakamura for another Futon.", (y/n) says softly when she noticed how Yoriichi kept staring at the futon. He nods and says: "Right, let's do that.". "Like right now?", (y/n) asks. She hoped they could freshen up a little bit first. She's desperate to get out of the clothes she's wearing. "It's fine. I go, you can stay.", he says, as he turns for the door.

"I am really sorry for the inconvenience. Newlyweds usually take a futon like that.", Mrs. Nakamura apologizes after Yoriichi stated their case. Yoriichi shifts uncomfortably. It is usual. Indeed it is unusual for them, a married couple, to ask for separate futons. "You see," he tries to explain, "I didn't really know (y/n) before we got married.". Mrs. Nakamura gives him a knowing glance. "Oh, young man, don't worry about that. First time I saw my husband was at the altar and everything worked out fine.", she says reassuringly, "But it's very considerate of you. I will put a second futon in your room so you have a choice tonight." Yoriichi feels his cheeks burning up. Clearly, Mrs. Nakamura had the wrong idea why they didn't want to sleep in the same futon. He thanks her nevertheless and walks back to their room. Still deep in thought, he opens the door without knocking. He's face to face with (y/n) in an open kimono. Instantly, (y/n)'s face turns beet red. He quickly slams the door closed. Taking a deep breath, he leans against the door. He waits outside while (y/n) finishes changing. Eventually, she leaves the room. Her cheeks are still slightly red and she can't meet Yoriichi's eyes. "So, uhm, you want to change too?" she asks. "I'm ready to hit the hot springs.", she points out while holding a bag with a towel. Yoriichi nods and quickly changes behind the closed door as well. When he's done, they walk to the nearby hot springs. Yoriichi's glad that the hot spring is divided into an area for men and one for women. He doesn't think he could handle a mixed bath after what just happened.

After they've soaked in the springs for a while, both of them leave the bathhouse a lot more relaxed than before. By then, it's already early evening. "Wanna take a stroll and then look for a place to eat?", (y/n) proposes. "Sure.", Yoriichi agrees. They walk through the village for a bit. They eventually find the market square. (Y/n) asks a local when the next market will be. The woman explains to her that the next day there will be a normal market in the morning and in the afternoon, there will be a handcraft market. (Y/n) thanks her and walks back to Yoriichi. He sees her eyes glistening excitingly. It's clear she's excited about the news. "Would you like to go to the handcraft market tomorrow?", he asks her. (Y/n) nods vigorously. "Absolutely!", she exclaims a bit too loud. "But you don't have to tag along.", she quickly adds. "It's fine. After all, I asked you.", Yoriichi answers. Also, it's not like he has anything else to do. "Great.", (y/n) smiles, "Then let's find a place to eat."

After a good meal, the two of them arrive back at the guest house. They take turns in the bathroom and get ready for bed. While (y/n) is in the bathroom, Yoriichi rolls out the second futon and sits on top of it. "Are you already tired?", (y/n) asks Yoriichi after she enters the bedroom in her sleepwear. Not really, Yoriichi thinks. After all, he's used to staying up late into the night chasing demons. However, he also doesn't know what else to do with (y/n), so he just gives her a shrug. (Y/n) pulls out a deck of cards. Yoriichi doesn't recognize the design of the cards. "My sister got this for me during her travels abroad.", (y/n) explains, "Do you want to play? I can teach you some games." Yoriichi gives her a nod and (y/n) starts shuffling the cards. (Y/n) teaches Yoriichi a variety of games. It turns out that he's terrible at a game called Cheat which (y/n) finds especially amusing since she manages to sniff out his lies despite his never changing facial expression. Yoriichi beats her a couple of times at a game called Rummy. At that, (y/n) mumbles something about a blind chicken which Yoriichi doesn't get but also doesn't ask about. Eventually, it gets late enough to go to bed and the two settle in their respective futons.

They lay facing one another but it's dark enough that they can't see each other's faces. Yoriichi can't fall asleep and according to (y/n)'s breathing pattern, she's not asleep either. "Hey, Yoriichi?", (y/n) asks into the dark. "Yes?", she hears somewhere next to her. "Is it really okay for you to be on this trip to me?", she asks him. Yoriichi knows there is only one right answer to this question, but he doesn't want to lie to her. "I don't feel comfortable."; he tells her truthfully. (Y/n) knew this, of course, but hearing it from him still stings. She turns away from him and stares at the pitch-black ceiling. "I'm sorry Suyaki made us do this.", she says. She hears Yoriichi shifting in his futon. "She meant well," he replies, "I'm sorry that I'm not as excited as you. I'm ruining the mood for you." (Y/n) has to smile at that. Yoriichi doesn't let it on, but he actually cares a lot about other people's feelings. "Is there anything I can do to make it more comfortable for you?", she asks him. Even though (y/n) can't see him, he shakes his head. "No, this is in my head. Nothing you can do about it.", he answers her. (Y/n)'s silent for a while. "You know," she says quietly, "I had a whole honeymoon planned out. Everything was already booked and paid for. I was more excited about the honeymoon than the actual wedding. The wedding was for the others, our family and friends, but the honeymoon… that was supposed to be just for us." (Y/n)'s voice sounds less steady at the end and Yoriichi feels his heart sink. How selfish of him, he thinks, of course, she's hurting too. The whole day he was all gloomy thinking about how he shouldn't go on a vacation like this with any other woman than Uta. He turns his head in her direction. "How do you do it?", he asks her. "Do what?", she replies. "How can you be so happy about this vacation? How can you think about anything else but him?", he clarifies. (Y/n)'s stunned at that for a moment. With a stoic man like Yoriichi, it is easy to forget that he can feel this deeply. "This is not a honeymoon for me. It can't be. If I would entertain that thought, I couldn't be like this.", she says into the dark. Yoriichi can feel his eyes burn. "Will this ever get better?". Yoriichi doesn't notice that he says this out loud. (Y/n) turns back to him. "I'm not sure I even want that", she tells him, "Wouldn't that mean we're forgetting?". Yoriichi doesn't trust his voice, so he only shrugs. "I don't want to forget", (y/n) concludes. "You shouldn't hurt so bad though.", Yoriichi states quietly, "I wouldn't want that." (Y/n) has to smile at that. Yoriichi really is a sweetheart. She reaches out for him with her hand. After some searching, she finds his face. She gently wipes the quiet tears away she knew that would be there. "I don't want that for you either.", she says. Yoriichi touches her hand and squeezes it lightly. "Hey, how about this? Let's make this arrangement about not forgetting but stopping hurting.", she proposes. "That sounds like a good idea.", he replies. (Y/n) pinches his cheek. "Then let's start tomorrow. Let's think about them and have a good day.", she says. "Okay.", Yoriichi whispers. (Y/n) pulls her hand away. "Good night, Yoriichi", (y/n) whispers back, "I hope you dream about her."

#demon slayer #demon slayer yoriichi #kny #kny x reader #kny x you #yoriichi tsugikuni #yoriichi x y/n #yoriichi x you #kimetsu no yaiba #yoriichi

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scintillyyy · 11 months

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okay, while janet visits a psychic clearly wins the day i do also have a home alone!tim idea that i'm going to share

so, it is christmas with the drakes. tim is our precocious 7-8 year old boy (he needs to be this age because he has not yet made the connection of batman and robin = bruce and dick AND so dick is still robin)

jack has decided that he's going to make amends with (show off to) his estranged relatives by planning a big old drake bash where they will christmas in paris (and jack can smugly brag about how successful his company is by paying for everything)

jack, however, doesn't really like his relatives so he delegates a lot of the planning and logistics and management of this trip to his beleaguered wife janet (who also doesn't like jack's relatives, thinks this trip is stupid and a bad idea, wanted to just have a quiet christmas and spend time with their son over his break, but the couples counselor they've been seeing has been suggesting that jack and janet try to compromise more and be more open to things that are clearly important to the other one, so here they are) who begrudgingly takes over the management of this trip because someone has to and it's clearly not going to be jack (even though it's his gd family)

so all janet asks is that jack please, please, please wrangle tim while she's doing everything else

so it's the day before christmas and we have the extended drakes over at jack and janet's townhouse in the suburbs (listen you can't convince me that the drakes didn't have a townhouse in the suburbs especially because tim refers to the robinson park condo as the place they would stay when they decided to be downtown. they very much strike me to have a suburb home and a couple of city homes)

and tim is kind of excited about this, but he is also a bit sour and cross that everytime he tries to get his mom's attention she's just frazzled and sorry because her attention keeps getting diverted by jack's aunt or uncle or cousin or cousin's kid (he is only 7-8 after all!)

so tim stands at the top of the stairway and angrily says he's going to his room. unfortunately, no one hears him. especially not his dad, whose only job it is to keep track of tim, because uncle rich asked about whiskey and jack has an excellent one in his study for showing off occasions such as this

the limos come to take them to the airport and janet, who is very frazzled making sure that everyone's suitcases get put in the cars, doesn't do a final headcount as she hurries everyone along because otherwise they're going to be late

and jack, talking to uncle rich about cigars, gets in the second car sans tim. he was just a little distracted, okay?

the extended drakes make it to the airport just in time and onto their flight. since they're all spread apart, since this is a christmas flight, nobody has noticed they forgot tim

"you know," jack says to rich, "i wanted to take the private jet, but we didn't want to leave you all to commercial by yourself while we lived it up in comfort"

tim comes out of his room to realize they forgot him. oh no! he's a little sad, but also. freedom to do whatever he wants? nice. he's going to live it up, and when he's parents realize what they did they'll be sorry!

meanwhile, two bumbling robbers are sneaking around bristol looking for houses to rob.

which catches tim's attention. this is serious business. he tries to call the cops about it, but they were like "what are you, 6? is this a prank call?" so he has to take matters into his own hand and protect the townhouse.

which means it's time for operation: what would batman and robin do? so tim sets up a bunch of traps.

in paris, the drakes arrive and finally realize tim is gone.

janet loses her shit. at jack. he had one gd job, after all

it's probably good that tim isn't there for that fight. it's ugly.

so janet has to immediately fly back to gotham because they forgot her baby boy and he's all alone there! unfortunately, there's one thing that money can't buy, and that's a last minute plane ticket on christmas.

....they probably should have taken the jet.

all she can manage to get after bargaining and begging all the people in the airport is a ticket to wichita, kansas. which is not ideal, by any means, but at least it's the country she needs to get to.

meanwhile, batman and robin have been made aware of some christmas burglars. they talk to commissioner gordon, who mentions a weird prank call they got from a kid

so they go to check it out and dick robin gets caught up in the glue trap that tim drake set up to catch bad guys. dick robin gets very affronted over this.

tim is mortified that he caught robin in his glue trap!! he'll never be best friends with robin now :(

batman tells robin to stay with the kid while he stakes out the perimeter

and the kid has a flying grayson poster in his room which is even more mortifying. dick has to keep a straight face as tim asks if he had every heard of them before, they're amazing, especially that dick grayson. batman can't come back soon enough.

batman does, and does ask why tim is alone.

"my parents forgot me :(" tim says "i know they didn't mean to. i miss them". and now dick does feel bad for the fanboy.

anyways, batman and robin catch the robbers and everything is so cool. tim asks for their autographs. he's never been so sad but so happy before in his life. (silver linings, you know?)

meanwhile, janet is in kansas. desperately trying to make her way back to gotham. she's almost in tears. there's no tickets to be found and she needs to be home, like, 8 hours ago. she almost went on a road trip with a polka band in her desperation. she's sitting outside a terminal, face buried in her hands. a kindly lady and man comes up to her and asks her what's wrong. she bursts into tears as she tells the woman the whole story and how she has to make it back to her son.

the kindly lady and man look at each other and silently agree. christmas is about helping each other out. "we don't have tickets to gotham," the woman says. "but we can give you our ticket to metropolis" they were going to visit their son. after all. but he would understand. and he has other ways of seeing them for the holidays that don't rely on planes.

janet is eternally grateful. she doesn't know how she can evey repay them.

it's christmas day and tim is sad. he had a fun adventure without his parents, but he really misses his mom. he goes to sit on a park bench and mope.

a man comes up to him. it's bruce, in disguise. they talk for a bit and tim cries about how all he wants for christmas is his mom.

"well," bruce is disguse says, "keep your chin up and maybe your wish will come true." he did, after all, hear from superman, who heard from his parents, about a woman desperate to get home to her son.

tim thanks him and goes home. he sits in the living room sad, when he hears a car pull up. it's his mom!!! merry christmas indeed. they hug. tim is so happy.

and then the rest of the extended drakes pull up. uncle rich is well and deep in his drinks and is laughing so hard.

jack called and yelled at their assistant to get the drake private jet to paris asap so they could all return home, which was actually a good idea. jack does feel very ashamed since he was the one who was supposed to be keeping track of tim after all. he'll take his son to a monster truck show to make it up to him.

all's well that ends well. batman and robin watch the happy family reunion, pleased at the outcome.

and dick never forgets the glue trap and is eternally trying to catch tim in one for tim's entire robin career.

#tim drake #janet drake #please remember that home alone is about a mother desperately trying to get home to her son <3 lol

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matttgirlies · 14 days

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Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - drug use,, sexual refrences

y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused🩷

Chapter 7

The day before I was to leave for Germany, Matt took me aside and said, “Baby, as much as I hate to say it, we’re gonna have to face it. Our time is up.” I broke down and hung onto him tightly, burying my head in his chest.

“I’m not leaving,” I said, sobbing. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll call my parents and say I missed the plane.”

“C’mon, Baby. You think they’re gonna fall for that?”

“Then I’ll tell them the truth: that I love you and that I won’t come back.”

“Hey, hey.” He was trying to calm me. “You’re just gonna make it worse for the next time. I’ve been thinkin’, I always wanted you to see Graceland. But right now, I’ve got some business to take care of in Boston for a few weeks, and then I’ve gotta do another film. So if you go back and do well in school and behave yourself, maybe your parents will let you spend Christmas at Graceland with me and my family.”

I loved the idea, but Christmas was six months away. Anything could happen between now and then.

That night in bed Matt held me very close for a long time. I felt that he was doing more than just comforting me. He was telling me how deeply he cared.

And more than that: His deep belief in consummating our love affair only in marriage gave me hope for the future.

Later, our lovemaking had more feeling and intensity than ever before. Matt wasn’t going to let me go home without my taking a little of him with me. He didn’t enter me; he didn’t have to. He fulfilled my every desire.

“I want you back the way you are now,” he whispered just before dawn. “And remember, I’ll always know.”

I smiled and nodded. I couldn’t conceive of wanting anyone but him.

Matt didn’t walk me into the airport. We kissed goodbye in the limousine. It was a tender but excruciatingly brief moment. I didn’t think the pain could have been greater even if he told me I’d never return.

I walked onto the plane like a robot. I was in a daze that lasted throughout the eleven hour flight. I talked to no one and didn’t care who saw the tears constantly streaming down my face. My world had come to an abrupt end. Finally I closed my eyes and in my mind I relived every moment of my visit. Suddenly the stewardess was telling us to fasten our seat belts for the landing. The thought of freshening up before we arrived never occurred to me. I just sat in a daze, waiting for the plane to taxi to a stop. Then I listlessly gathered up my things and made my way out.

When I first saw my parents, my mother was crying with joy at seeing me and my father was wearing a big welcome-home smile. But as I came nearer, their expressions changed from delight to absolute horror. My father turned away angrily. For a moment my mother just stared. Then she reached into her purse, pulled out a mirror, and thrust it at me.

“Look at yourself! How could you walk off the plane like that?”

I glanced at myself in the mirror and immediately understood their response. Two weeks before, I had left them, a fresh-faced sixteen-year-old, wearing a suitable white cotton suit and innocent of anything but a touch of mascara. Now, not only was I wearing the heavy makeup that Matt liked, but my tears had smeared it all over my face. I hadn’t bothered to lift a comb to my hair, which was unkept and tangled. My parents were shocked and disappointed.

Too embarrassed to look at them, I put my hand to my face and nonchalantly tried to wipe off the residue of black mascara and liner. Then I said, ‘I’d like to go to the ladies’ room.”

“You’re going straight home,” my father snapped. “If you left it on this long, you might as well keep it on another hour.” He hardly said another word to me until we got home and I washed my face.

Christmas in the family was always a major production, but Christmas 1962 was one time I wasn’t concerned about presents. I was bound for the place that I had often dreamed about but never let myself believe that I would actually see—Graceland.

Getting there hadn’t been easy. The plotting and scheming had started one morning at 2:10 a.m., when I had sleepily answered the phone to hear Matt’s voice. He seemed in great spirits. Laughing and joking, he told me that RCA had sent him some horrible demo records for his next movie. “I’m listening to ’em, Baby, and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I have to laugh because if I don’t, I’ll start cryin’.”

I chuckled sympathetically, but I could hear the sadness in his voice. Then he said softly, “Little Girl, I want you here for Christmas. I don’t care how you arrange it or what you have to tell your parents. I’ll go along with anything you say, as long as you get here.”

I was shaking as I hung up the phone. I couldn’t imagine my parents allowing me to leave again—especially at Christmas—but there was no way I was going to let him down.

After a few days of silently avoiding the subject, I casually brought up Matt’s request to my mother.

“Absolutely not,” she declared. “It’s out of the question. Christmas is for the family. That’s the way it’s always been and it’s not going to change—not even for Matt Sturniolo.”

I wouldn’t give up. My poor mother was torn between making a dream come true for her daughter and doing what was right as a parent.

“When will this end?” she murmured with an anguished expression. Finally she agreed to speak to my father.

That was the breakthrough.

Again the pleas. Again the promises.

One month later, I was on a flight bound for the United States. Matt had asked James and Angela to meet me at La Guardia Airport in New York and escort me to Boston because he didn’t want me to travel alone.

By the time we reached Boston, I was both exhausted and exhilarated. We went to James’s home on Hamilton Drive, a short distance from Graceland. Matt had left explicit instructions that only he could drive me through the gates of Graceland.

A few minutes after we arrived, he called. His father handed me the phone. Before I could say two words, Matt blurted he was on his way. Minutes later the door flew open and I was in his arms.

Graceland was everything Matt had said it would be. The front lawn was adorned with a nativity scene and the white columns of the mansion were ablaze with holiday lights. It was one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever laid eyes on.

Inside the mansion a crowd of Matt’s friends and relatives all stood waiting to greet me. I felt relaxed and comfortable as he introduced me to everyone, because I had already met several of his friends when I was in Los Angeles.

Then Matt said, “y/nn, there’s someone special who’s waiting for you.” With a smile, he led me up the stairs and opened the door to his grandmother’s room.

“Dodger,” he called out. “Look who’s here. It’s little y/nn. She’s come a long way, Dodger, to be with little us.”

Using endearing terms like “little us” was his way of being affectionate. His mother had raised him on this sweet talk and Matt spoke it with those he cherished.

Dodger smiled and greeted me in her soft voice. “Good God, child, it took you a long time to get here.”

She was sitting in a high-backed overstuffed chair. I leaned over and she gave me a hug and patted me on the back. I was delighted at how good Dodger was looking, her hair, once completely gray, was now a natural looking dark brown. I noticed she wasn’t as thin as she’d been in Germany. At 18 Hauptstrasse, Dodger had presided over a busy household; at Graceland she had withdrawn to her room.

After Matt left us alone, I could tell something was bothering her and asked, “Grandma, how has everything been with you?” She looked at me and then down at the lace handkerchief in her lap.

“I don’t know, Hon. I’m worried about Matt and James. Matt is still upset over his Daddy’s marriage.” James and Angela had gotten married a year earlier. “He don’t spend much time at Graceland anymore and his Daddy’s worried. I hate to see the two of ’em upset like that. Lord have mercy. Matt didn’t go to the weddin’, you know. Matt is tryin’ hard, but when she comes over he just gets up and leaves the room. I don’t know if he’ll ever accept it.”

She reached for her snuffbox. It was an endearing habit that she tried to keep secret.

“But I don’t want you to go worrying about it,” she continued. “You go off and have a good time with Matt. That young’un needs you now.”

I nodded and kissed her cheek. “I promise I’ll take care of him, Dodger,” I said, feeling guilty leaving her. She worried too much, just as all the Sturniolo’s did. It was contagious.

She laughed softly and said with a smile, “Ain’t no one ever called me that but Matt.”

All that night, the guys played pool, watched TV, and hung around the kitchen badgering Pauline (“VO5”) while she played short-order cook.

I realized that there was no set routine at Graceland. Everyone came and went as they pleased. It wasn’t a home, but rather an open house, available to the guys and their dates all with Matt’s approval, of course.

The evening ended around 4 a.m., when Matt finally said good night to everyone and took my hand. I was really exhausted since, in anticipation of the trip, I hadn’t slept for two days. As I walked up the white-carpeted staircase, I closed my eyes and wished I was already in bed.

In his room, Matt gave me two large red pills, explaining, “Take these now, and by the time you come to bed, you’ll be nice and relaxed.” I really didn’t need anything, but he insisted, saying that they would help me sleep better and were a little stronger than what I’d taken before.

I didn’t recognize them. They were larger than I’d ever taken before. You’d have to be a horse to get these down, I thought, but I reluctantly swallowed them.

I went into the dressing room to bathe, and as I sank into the tub, my head settled on the edge. My arm was so heavy I could barely raise my hand; my eyelids seemed weighted. But I felt good and kind of silly.

The longer I soaked, the less energy I had and I only barely managed to get out of the tub. Trying to focus on the bed, I staggered over to where Matt was lying. Then I collapsed.

After that, I was occasionally awakened by the sound of distant voices. One time, I thought I saw Matt whispering to me. Another time I saw his father. I didn’t know if I was dreaming or hallucinating, but when I closed my eyes I could feel the room spinning around.

Then I felt a soft hand gently rubbing and patting my arm. “y/n? y/n? Hon, it’s Grandma, you all right?” Slowly I tried to lift my head, but it was too heavy and it fell back down.

“What’d you give this young’un?” I heard someone say. “You got no business givin’ her something she’s not used to. Son, maybe we ought to call a doctor. She’s in bad shape. I don’t think we should take any chances.”

I managed to focus my half-closed eyes on Matt and gave him a wink and a giddy grin.

He said, “Hell no, we’re not callin’ any doctor. Look, she’s comin’ to.”

Kneeling beside me, he held up my head, and I saw that I wasn’t in his room but lying on the white chaise lounge in his office, which adjoined the bedroom.

“What am I doing here?”

“I walked you in here after the first day,” he answered in a concerned tone. “We were trying to revive you.”

“But I just went to bed,” I said, slurring my words.

“Baby, you had us all scared. You’ve been out for two days on two goddamn five hundred-milligram Placidyls. Must have been out of my head giving them to you that way.”

“Two days! That’s two days off my trip. What’s today?”

“December twenty-third.”

“Oh no.”

“Don’t worry. We still have plenty of time.” He smiled at me and said, “I promise, Baby, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Merry Christmas,” Matt said proudly, handing me a honey-colored six-week-old puppy.

“Oh, Matt. He’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, and the smallest.” I gave Matt a big hug and heard a muffled yelp between us. “Oh, Honey!” I said. “I’m sorry.” I had unwittingly just named the pup Honey.

It was Christmas Eve. Matt had prayed for a white Christmas and—as if on cue—that night three full inches of snow fell.

The gathering around the tree included James and Angela, her three sons—David, Ricky, and Billy—the entourage and their wives, and a handful of Matt’s other relatives and friends. Everyone was pleasant and made me feel welcome, though it must have seemed strange to see me rather than Nicole sitting beside Matt. Nicole had shared Christmas with him the two previous years. Sometimes I couldn’t help wondering if he missed her. It wasn’t easy for him to let go of people. I knew that.

It was fun watching Matt open gifts. “Just what I needed, another jewelry box,” he quipped, unwrapping the fourth one of the evening. He looked over at Gene Smith, one of the few people who could consistently make Matt laugh.

“You give me this, Gene?” he asked.

Gene mumbled, “Naw, M, I didn’t give it to you.”

Then Matt reconsidered. “On second thought, I don’t guess you did, Gene. It’s got too much taste.”

“Ah, M, how can you say that?” Gene was mumbling in his slow Southern drawl.

“Easy.” Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Just look at you, Gene, a living example of ba-a-a-d taste.”

Pretending to be insulted, Gene walked away scratching his head, as everyone laughed.

Although there were lots of jokes, I sensed a sadness in Matt’s look as our eyes met, and I couldn’t help recalling what he’d once said to me in Germany: “Christmas just won’t be the same at Graceland without Mom. It’ll be hard for me, and I don’t know if I can bear the loneliness. But I guess I’ll manage. God will give me the strength somehow.”

“Oh, look, Matt,” I said, trying to distract him with a large, colorfully wrapped present. “Here’s one more you forgot to open.” It was my own gift to him, a musical cigarette case, which I’d purposely saved for last. I held my breath as he unwrapped it.

He opened the box and it began to play “Love Me Tender.”

“I love it! I really do, y/nn. Thank you.”

There was a twinkle in his eyes, and I wished I could always make him this happy.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - longgg chapter again🎀

#matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturn #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #Spotify

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forjongseong · 1 year

Text

enchule // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: secretary!jay x CEO!fem!reader (part 11.5 of the series)

genre: office!au, fluff, smut (minors dni) // warning: older reader; Jay calls reader “Boss”; profanity; oral sex (m. receiving); fingering; unprotected sex; rough handling; Jay got too carried away :( // wc: ~8.5k (I also got carried away)

previous chapters:

part 1 - carmesí part 2 - mi reina part 3 - millones part 3.5 - hasta los dientes part 4 - vente conmigo part 5 - tusa part 5.5 - apaga y vámonos part 6 - versos de placer minisode part 1 - cuando nadie ve part 6.5 - yo te quiero más minisode part 2 - la niña de mis ojos part 7 - aeropuerto minisode part 3 - falling autumn minisode part 4 - night night part 8 - ambulancia minisode part 5 - subtítulos part 9 - al caer la noche minisode part 6 - after last night part 9.5 - the way you look tonight part 10 - mon soleil minisode part 7 - daylight minisode part 8 - subside minisode part 9 - your princess, my queen part 11 - qué bonito

next chapters:

click here for the masterlist

summary: Jay had taken you to Greece for your birthday, so you decided to take him to Australia for his.

author’s notes: welcome to part 11.5! this one is 3k words longer than the original half episodes. (oops)

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, JAY! my one and only, my sun and stars, the moon of my life, the air that I breathe, and my reason to wake up every morning... initially I planned on releasing this special .5 part right on his birthday, but a lot of things happened, and I kept getting creatively cockblocked for some reason, so here we are 5 or 6 days later with a half episode that, hopefully, with its length, can quench the thirst for you readers (my dear carmesimps) out there.

after the love I received in part 11, I hope this part also suffices! warning: don't forget to regulate your breathing and stay hydrated because the smut scenes here are hot...ter than usual, if I can say so myself...

behold! the song title for this part:

will you just look at the lyrics???

I don't know what happened that my mouth liked it when I stole a kiss from you it was just a game that got out of control, the rules were broken now your name doesn't leave my mind if you want to repeat it, I remember where Baby, I show up even if it's far I feel despair if I don't see you

tell me that's not Jay?????? literally???

taglist: @jaylaxies @thots4hee @jayked @end-hyphen @nyanggk @yoursjaeyun @maggstar @bucketofhiros @dimplejaehyuncutie @excusememissiloveyou @shinkenprincess-oh @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy

(send an ask if you want to be added)

From the corner of your eye, you spotted a figure walking towards you steadily, and when he arrived right in front of you, you recognized the pair of shoes and immediately looked up.

“Remind me again why Jake is tagging along for our honeymoon?” Jay asked as he held a cardboard cup holder filled with three different drinks.

“Oh, thanks, mate,” Jake said, reaching out for his iced americano. The force of his hands almost tipped the whole cup holder, so you calmly held it in place by supporting the bottom with one hand.

“Sorry, Noona,” Jake continued. It seemed like he did not hear Jay’s complaint and was merely happy that his beverage order had arrived.

Jay sighed as he took his seat beside you, letting you hold both his drink and yours. He melted to your side and rested his head on your shoulder, to which you softly chuckled and patted his cheek with your free hand.

“This isn’t our honeymoon, it’s your birthday trip,” you explained. “We’re only gone for six days, and I want our actual honeymoon to last at least two weeks.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Jay muttered. “Do you think the company will be fine without the both of us? For fourteen business days?”

You shrugged and it made Jay’s head shake in place. “We probably need several meetings before we leave and during the honeymoon, I’ll have to check in once in a while.”

“That seems unfair. I don’t want you distracted during our honeymoon,” Jay said, pouting.

“Then I shouldn’t have married my secretary, don’t you think?” You brought your hand up and squished Jay’s cheeks, forcing him to pout his lips even more.

“If you need help and if you have a vacant position, you can hire me, Noona,” Jake chimed in, nudging your left elbow.

“You say that, yet you’re here with us,” Jay commented. “It’s because the destination is Brisbane, isn’t it?”

“Bingo,” Jake replied.

“Exactly,” you said at the same time.

Then both you and Jake snorted at the same time, and it made Jay wonder if the two of you were actually siblings.

When Jake told you a couple of weeks ago that he was going to visit his brother’s family in Brisbane, you immediately asked him a thousand questions about his plan—when he’s leaving, how long he’s staying, whether you should go and visit Brisbane with him, all the sorts. It took you a minute to realize Jay was staring at you the whole time, with a disapproving look, almost like he was hurt that you had forgotten his existence.

You found a less packed week that overlapped with Jay’s birthday, so without even asking if he approved, you cleared out both your schedules and planned your trip ahead, only notifying him three days before your flight so he would have enough time to pack. On the one hand, he was happy that you surprised him this time with a trip. On the other hand, he wished you had told him at least a week before, so he could participate in planning too.

“Just to be clear,” Jay began, clearing his throat. “You’re not tagging along for the whole time, right? Like we’re not gonna see you every day?”

“Of course not,” Jake answered. “But I’ll be on standby whenever Y/N Noona needs a tour guide. I can ask my brother for recommendations.”

“If it’s a city she grew up in, I bet she’ll be a good enough tour guide, but thanks anyways,” Jay said as he took a sip of his iced tea.

“You two speak as if I’m not sitting in between.” You shook your shoulder once and Jay immediately straightened up. “I think we’re boarding soon.”

The two guys redirected their attention to the gate, and as the staff made the announcement, the three of you stood up at the same time, gathering your belongings.

“Noona,” Jake leaned into you. “Thanks for the upgrade to business class.”

“Thank me too, the fuck,” Jay groaned, stretching his arms to the side. “It’s my birthday trip, remember?”

“Can you two stop bickering so I don’t feel like a nanny on duty?” You complained, staring at Jake and then Jay.

“Yes, Ma’am,” the two said in unison.

---

You had made the mistake of posting your trip on your private Instagram stories, and around the same time, your auntie—who was not really your aunt, just an old friend of your parents—replied to your post and demanded you come to see her. She even sent her husband to pick you up at your hotel, and you were too flustered and too polite to refuse.

Luckily, Jay is a natural at initiating conversations with new people. He offered to sit beside the driver, which was your auntie’s husband, Tim, and they began talking about the most random things regarding living in Australia, particularly Gold Coast. As the car drove along the more crowded streets, Tim explained a lot about the important places like he was a paid tour guide. It gave you enough time to respond to your family group chat, updating them about your trip.

“Are the boys not here, Auntie Nina?” You asked, looking around the room and noticing how quiet it felt.

Jay sat beside you at the dining table while you watched Tim and Nina prepare drinks and snacks. Jay leaned to whisper to you.

“Auntie Nina only has sons?”

“Three.”

“They’re all busy with work and college. My youngest is getting his master’s,” Nina smiled, walking towards the table, and placing a pitcher of iced tea and four clear glasses in the center.

“That’s wonderful,” Jay responded. “I bet he’s good in school too, huh?”

And just like that the conversation flowed naturally again. You updated them about your parents and told them a little bit about your work, and once they learned that Jay works for you, they both asked how you two met. You eyed Jay, who then tilted his chin to let you tell your version of the story, so of course, you did and had to censor some parts. Particularly the kiss in your office.

“He was just paying so much attention to me that I couldn’t help but notice him too,” you finished, tracing your finger on the outline of your glass. “I think I got lucky.”

“You’re gonna make me cry right here,” Jay said, stifling a sob.

Tim and Nina laughed at Jay, who literally had his lips quivering, and you brought your hands up to cup his face and comfort him, pouting at his cuteness. The rest of the night went by in a flash, with a delicious dinner prepared by Nina and a safe ride back to the hotel with Tim.

---

“I had a lot of fun today,” Jay said, making himself comfortable on the sofa, lying behind you.

You changed the channel on the TV, searching for a good movie. You felt like watching cable in hotels was somewhat a nostalgic activity, and you also found it quite therapeutic to just have the TV on while you keep yourself busy.

“I’m glad you did,” you replied as you placed your hand over his arm, which was now wrapped around your waist. “Jake is going to take us to the beach tomorrow.”

“I love that,” Jay muttered, kissing your shoulder. “Thank you for planning everything, babe.”

“It’s about time I return the favor.” You closed your eyes for a minute before turning your head slightly to your right, inhaling his scent. “You smell good.”

“Must be because I showered,” Jay replied nonchalantly. “You smell good too,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“Well, I haven’t showered yet, so I don’t know what you’re on.”

“I love the way you smell when you’re sweaty,” he said, tracing his finger along your shoulder and down your arm. “Reminds me of something in particular.”

You sighed heavily before you chuckled, feeling Jay’s fingers tickling your waist. “We’re not going to watch this movie, are we?” You asked.

Jay shrugged. “We can try.”

You exhaled in defeat and Jay chuckled lowly, placing his lips on the back of your shoulder, and staying there for a while. Your eyes focused on the TV and your fingers started stroking his arm that was wrapped around your chest. After a while, Jay settled into a more comfortable position, resting his head on a stack of pillows higher than yours so he could watch the movie too.

“Jay,” you called. He hummed and squeezed your waist. “After we go to the beach tomorrow, will you come with me to—”

“Yes,” he interrupted.

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“You don’t have to. ‘With me’ was all I needed to hear. I’ll go with you anywhere.”

Jay’s voice was close to your ear, and when he finished speaking you felt like you were covered in a soft and warm blanket. You smiled to yourself before bringing his hand up for you to kiss. You then carefully turned around to face him, still lying down on the sofa, and he pulled you closer to him to keep you from falling off.

“I’m so lucky,” you whispered, tracing your fingers along his jawline.

He smiled widely and your mouth mimicked his expression.

“I’m glad the feeling’s mutual,” he said, before leaving a chaste kiss on your lips.

---

Jake’s eyes widened in wonder as he observed you and Jay belting notes to Yuuri’s Shutter, which was on the playlist that you chose for the drive. Jay insisted on driving, since Jake’s brother was kind enough to lend you all his car and because Jake was not confident enough to be the man behind the wheel. Naturally, you rode shotgun and did your best to navigate the map and handle the choice of songs.

The song reached its bridge and climax, and Jake giggled at the way you and Jay both inhaled dramatically before hitting the final chorus which had a key change. The whole performance became even more dramatic with the wind blowing through the open windows, and you had to push your sunglasses up to wear as a headband to keep your hair from flying all over the place.

You heard the sound of Jake clapping from the backseat, and you turned around and looked at him in confusion. Jake grinned at you.

“Was that a sad song? It sounded sad,” Jake spoke, eyeing the screen that showed the playlist. “You both sound devastated.”

You snorted and Jay shook his head. “It’s Yuuri! What do you expect?” He protested, carefully bringing the car to a stop.

Several people crossed the street, and you quietly observed them. Jay tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and adjusted the volume of the speakers.

“And since when do you speak Japanese, Noona?” Jake asked, poking his head through the gap between you and Jay at the same time the light turned green.

“I don’t?” You said, slightly confused.

“She just has the lyrics memorized,” Jay explained. You nodded in agreement.

You proceeded to play more of Yuuri’s songs and Jake happily bobbed his head while listening to them until you all arrived at Surfer’s Paradise. It took a while to find a close enough parking spot, but when you did, you and Jake instantly turned into kids.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, watching the soft waves coming up the sand. “I’ve been wanting to come back here for ages.”

Jake jogged towards you and his hair moved up and down. “Noona! Race you to the water.”

“Aaaaaah!!!”

Jay was startled at the way you and Jake both shrieked and laughed uncontrollably as you made your way to the shore. Jake almost tripped and lost balance, and you had to stop and squat to laugh properly. You then crawled your way on the sand, only to stand up and catch up to Jake as soon as his feet hit the water.

When you turned around, you saw Jay holding up his phone, recording everything. There were wrinkles on the corners of his eyes from the way he was smiling, and it seemed like he was trying not to laugh to prevent the phone from shaking too much. Jake caught your attention by slightly splashing you with the salt water, and you flinched before you chased him down.

“I won! I won!” Jake shouted, flapping his hands around to counter your attacks. You were flinging your arms in hopes that it would hit him.

“Okay, that’s enough!” Jay raised his voice, putting his phone back in his pocket before walking towards you. “Don’t tire her.”

Jake furrowed but at the same time you started coughing, and in between coughs you explained to him that laughing and running, or talking and walking up the stairs at the same time, was one of your asthma triggers. He immediately felt bad, and he hesitantly patted your back gently as you tried to control your breathing.

“Sorry, Noona,” Jake said before eyeing Jay cautiously. “We can just sit down and chill now.”

Jay was about to nudge Jake, but you stopped him by grabbing his arm.

“I’m fine!” You insisted as you watched Jay unfold a picnic mat. The two of them waited for you to sit before taking their places beside you.

“How do you like Brisbane and Gold Coast so far, mate?” Jake asked, peering over you to look at Jay.

You smiled and lay down completely, and Jay looked at you for a split second before answering.

“I get why you two are attached to this city,” Jay replied. “It’s the perfect balance between quiet and crowded.”

“Exactly,” you chimed in, squinting your eyes to avoid the sun.

Jake continued the conversation while Jay took out cans of soda and packs of sandwiches to munch on. Whenever you started to giggle, Jay was quick to pull you up back to your sitting position, and Jake also put his hand on your back out of reflex. The three of you ended up talking about a lot of things even long after you finished your snacks, and if it weren’t for Jake checking the time, you all would have stayed even longer.

“I need to take my hyung’s car back, but before that, I can drive you guys to the hotel?” Jake offered, dusting his pants from the sand as he stood up first.

Jay looked at you and you looked back at Jake. “I actually need to drop by a friend’s home and then the pharmacy. It’s fine, we can take the train.”

“Are you sure?” Jake asked, more towards Jay than to you.

Jay nodded. “Say hi to your brother for us,” he said.

“Alright then,” Jake responded. “I’ll text you again later.”

On the train ride to your friend’s house, you fell asleep on Jay’s shoulder, and he was determined to stay awake and alert, taking over the navigating duty that was supposed to be yours. Initially, you did not want to stay for longer than an hour at your friend’s, but she and her husband insisted, and Jay was more than happy to chat more with the new people he just befriended. Before going back to the hotel, you made a stop at the local drugstore and went through a list of products that your mother had asked for.

You both arrived at the hotel later than planned and by then you were exhausted. As you were taking off your makeup, Jay leaned back on the wall beside the bathroom door, looking at you.

“Can I help you?” You asked as you realized he wasn’t going to stop staring.

Jay chuckled before putting his hands in his pockets. “Just waiting for the bathtub to fill up. What? I’m not allowed to stare at my wife?”

You smiled softly and held a cotton pad over your eyelids. “So for tomorrow, I don’t have anything grand planned. We’re just gonna stay here and go for a walk if you’d like. But then the day after that is your birthday, so you get to choose whatever you want to do.”

“Really?” Jay replied, his eyes lighting up. “Great, then I can use some time tomorrow to look up stuff to do.”

“Mm-hm.” You wiped off the residue on your face before stretching out your arms. “Are you going to take a bath now?”

“Do you wanna join me?” Jay asked as he took a couple steps towards you.

“I’m…” you paused to look at your reflection, “I’m really tired, actually.”

Jay placed his hands on your shoulders and started rubbing you gently. “That’s my point. I’ll give you a massage. Come on.”

“You know I should be the one pampering you, right?” You looked at Jay through the reflection.

He brought his hands to cup your chin and tilted your head upwards before planting a kiss on your forehead.

“It’s not my birthday yet. Just come relax with me, okay?”

There was no way you could refuse your husband, especially when he was asking so politely.

“Just a bath,” you demanded as you stood up. “Nothing more.”

Jay chuckled, but then you gave him a sharp stare and he nodded. “Nothing more,” he said, clearing his throat. He then took one step back. “After you, my love.”

---

You slowly opened your eyes and found yourself staring at the dark. When you turned your head to the right, you noticed the faint light from the sun rising outside, and you guessed that it was still way too early in the morning to be doing anything. A second later, you remembered that you had a horrible dream where you got lost in a maze, and you called for Jay, but he never appeared.

To your relief, when you turned to Jay’s side you found him there, still fast asleep. You took a deep breath before bringing your hand up to caress his face, also brushing his hair back in the process. His breath was steady, despite his eyebrows forming a frown, and you stroked his cheek before you leaned in to kiss him.

Your kiss woke him up. He stirred before he opened his eyes, and you melted right beside him, grabbing both his hands and holding them tight between yours.

“Hey,” he greeted you, his voice croaked. “Good morning.”

“Morning, baby,” you whispered, placing his palm under your cheek, and resting your head back on the pillow.

He moved his thumb across your cheek before clearing his throat. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded, and Jay shot you a tired smile. You snuggled closer to him, caging yourself in his arms and moving close enough until you could touch your lips to his neck. His arms wrapped around your waist naturally, and when you kissed his chin he chuckled, squeezing you gently.

You moved your hand to his arm and squeezed him there, and with that, he looked down at you with his eyes only half open. You tilted your head slightly, bumping your nose to his chin before you carefully grazed your lips over his. You felt his lips slowly part, and that’s when you dived in for a passionate kiss.

Holding his face close to yours and letting him press your body onto his, you kissed him deeply. You felt his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, and as you opened your mouth you moaned when you felt his tongue tug against yours. You stopped for a split second only to catch your breath before you kissed him again, your leg thrown over his waist, latching your hip onto his.

Jay’s hands traveled underneath your camisole, bunching up the fabric until his palms were the only thing keeping your back warm. He stroked your back softly and ran his fingers down your waist and to your hips as he continued to lock lips with you. For a moment, the sound of your lips smacking was the only thing you could hear, aside from the soft sound of the clock on the wall ticking.

“I want to try something,” you confessed, pulling away only to find a strand of saliva connecting your lips and his.

Jay leaned in for one last kiss before he replied. “What is it?”

As much as you wanted to stay in his arms, to feel his hands run through your hair and along your back, you wanted to pamper him. You wanted him to feel more pleasure, so you had to fight yourself from staying in place.

“Just a second,” you whispered before pushing yourself away from him. His arms stayed there for a while as he watched you take off your top and sit straight, leaning against the headboard. “Come sit between my legs,” you demanded.

Jay’s eyes squinted in confusion, but his body was quick to react. He shuffled out of the covers to go to you, but before he could settle, you clicked your tongue.

“I want you naked, though.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

His tone of enthusiasm, in contrast with his messy bed hair, made you chuckle. He got undressed in seconds, and you reached out your arms when he made his way between your legs, resting his back against your chest.

“Oh,” he sighed, “this feels good.”

“I haven’t even started.”

“No, I know,” Jay rested his head on your right shoulder. “I just know it’s gonna be good.”

You had to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes, so you grabbed his chin and pressed your lips roughly against his, earning a light chuckle from him.

“Just relax, okay?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Are you comfortable? I don’t want to be leaning or pressing too hard on you,” Jay said, his eyes flickered from your lips to your chest.

Unbelievable, you thought. On the verge of receiving pleasure, he was still thinking of you.

“I’m fine, baby, thank you,” you replied, kissing his temple. Jay then relaxed and placed his hands on your thighs.

You began caressing his chest, trailing your fingers from his nipples, down to his abs and the v-line that always drives you crazy. You noticed his breath hitched once he saw your hands moving downwards, and you had to press your lips to his ear to give him reassurance.

“Relax,” you whispered.

You reached for his penis with your left hand, bringing your right hand back up to his nipple to pinch and play with it in hopes that it will get him hard fast. He flinched before he relaxed in your touch, occasionally whimpering when he felt that you were pinching too hard. Your hand moved up and down his shaft, continuing the motion until you felt him gradually harden in between your fingers.

“There he is,” you chuckled softly, lips grazing his earlobe. “A good morning to you, Sir.”

At this point, Jay was moaning at your every touch, and he even shifted in his seat once he felt your lips pressed against his neck. You began sucking softly, determined to make him feel enough pleasure but without leaving a noticeable mark. You continued kissing him down his shoulder while stroking his cock, which was now fully erect.

“Show me how you like it,” you requested. “Use your hands and show me.”

“What?” Jay asked, confused. He didn’t realize that his breath had become heavier. “But I’ve barely touched myself since we started—”

“I know,” you responded. You kissed his neck again for reassurance and he sighed contentedly. “I just want to see how you used to pleasure yourself.”

You had moved your hands up to his biceps and you were stroking him there. With one squeeze, he began palming himself with one hand as he adjusted his position between your legs. You observed quietly as you paid close attention to the motion of his hands—the way he took long strokes from top to bottom, the way he ends each stroke with a slight squeeze towards the tip, the way his head fell back when he increased the speed. You noticed how he was almost panting like it was too much and he was trying to hold back.

“I don’t… Do you… Should I do this until I cum?”

The uncertainty in his voice and the submissive nature of it made you fall for him more, as if that was even possible. You nodded and gently nudged the side of his head with yours.

“You can cum if you want, baby.”

“But,” Jay paused before he opened his eyes and looked at you. “I want you to make me cum.”

And how could you refuse?

“Okay,” you whispered, kissing his lips. “Do you want my hands?” You kissed him again. “Or my mouth?” You kissed his jawline. “Or do you want my pussy?” You kissed his earlobe.

You could basically feel Jay shiver under your touch before he answered you, only after taking a considerable amount of time to decide.

“Your… mouth,” Jay muttered. “Can I?”

“Of course.”

You stretched out your legs and moved from behind Jay, making him rest his back against the headboard. He leaned comfortably after you placed a couple of pillows behind his back, and once he was set you crawled your way downwards, taking your position this time between his legs.

The sight of you on all fours with your ass up and your head over his crotch made him groan. You saw his cock twitch and decided to put him out of his misery. He had been a good boy, after all, listening to your requests and delivering, so you kissed the tip of his cock before putting it into your mouth.

You almost gagged from the way his length quickly filled up your mouth, and you could hear him shudder from the single move. You began bobbing your head up and down, coating his shaft with your saliva, and you felt his fingers very carefully brush your hair away from your face before bunching them up into a ponytail. He kept holding your hair as you continued your ministrations, and every whimper or moan that you heard from him served as your sole motivation.

You tried taking his whole length in, and you felt your jaw stretch a little too wide. The pause in your movements made him concerned, so he tried his best to comfort you by reaching out for your hand. You took his hand in yours, and you continued to suck him, alternating between kisses and kitten licks too.

“I’m c-close,” Jay whimpered. His body was shaking involuntarily, and you were secretly proud of yourself that you were able to make him feel this way.

You pulled your lips away from his cock with a pop, and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before you spoke. “You can cum in my mouth, baby.”

“Are you sure?” He asked.

You hummed and quickly put his length in between your lips again. You heard him mutter several curse words as you continued, and when you felt his hips start to thrust upwards, you held him in place by gripping his waist. The grip of his hand that was holding your hair up began to loosen, and after one last suck, you felt him release in your mouth. You were lucky you braced yourself, otherwise it would have ended in a choking mess.

You couldn’t take all of his cum, so when you pulled away some of it was dripping down your chin. You swallowed the rest, though, and when you looked at him, he was looking back at you in awe.

“It’s not my birthday yet, is it?” He asked, breathless.

You wiped your bottom lip with your thumb as you chuckled, and you shook your head as you made your way up to him, straddling him in the process.

“Fuck. Thank you for that,” Jay said as soon as your face was level with his. “Kiss me.”

“You sure?” You halted, hovering over his body before he pulled you in by the neck, licking your lips clean and kissing you feverishly.

“Wait,” he said all of a sudden, pulling back. You frowned. “Your turn.”

He placed his hands on your hips and slammed you down on his crotch, earning a surprised yelp from you. You then chuckled and he did the same, kissing you only after you relaxed on top of him.

“If you keep kissing me like this, I think I can cum,” you whispered against his lips.

“Is that a challenge?” Jay taunted, his fingers moving down to push your panties to the side. “If it is, get ready.”

You moaned into his mouth as soon as you felt his fingers graze your folds. With just one touch, you were already shaking from pleasure, and it didn’t help that he was nibbling your lips and kissing you like oxygen was only coming out of your mouth. He inserted one finger, and then two, and when he put in his third finger you gasped for air, unlatching your mouth from his.

“Jay,” you panted. “It’s too much.”

You felt his fingers curl inside of you and you whimpered, your body shaking as your head fell to his shoulder. You rested your forehead there as support, and you were grabbing his arms for dear life.

“Jay,” you whined helplessly.

“Oh, come on, baby,” Jay spoke right into your ear. Somehow you could hear him smirk. “You always take my dick so well. Surely, three fingers are nothing?”

You moaned again as he began moving his fingers in and out of you faster, and although you had already lost track of time, you knew that it took you less time to cum compared to him. Within a minute you were already a shaking, moaning mess on his lap, and you couldn’t even complain when you heard him chuckle proudly, his chest moving against yours during the process.

Jay’s fingers slipped out of you and as he brought them up to his face, you could see the way they were coated with your cum. But then he swiped his index finger over your lips, as if applying lip balm, before taking all three fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you sighed, one hand latched onto his shoulder and your head resting against the crook of his neck.

He chuckled and your body moved with his.

“You’re welcome, baby.”

---

You walked out of the bedroom and into the living room all dressed up and covered in a light coat, and when Jay noticed you, he had to do a double take, completely abandoning his attention over his phone.

“Where are you going?” He asked, quickly eyeing your outfit from head to toe.

“I just need to pick up something from the lobby,” you said, waving your hand to emphasize that it wasn’t something of his concern.

“You’ll be back soon, right?” Jay asked again, sounding slightly worried.

You nodded. “Of course, I will, baby.”

You blew Jay a flying kiss and he made smooching faces back at you before you headed out the door. Jay then picked up his phone and continued his search for must-do activities that might fit into your schedule tomorrow. He must have been completely immersed because the next thing he knew you were already back, while he felt like you left only two minutes ago. You were holding a suspicious box, and you smiled as you made your way to the coffee table in front of the sofa Jay was sitting on.

“Now I know your birthday is tomorrow, but I figured we could get the cake a day early and eat it when the clock strikes midnight or something,” you explained without waiting for him to ask. “That is, of course, if you want to.”

Jay had never heard you sound so unsure, or were you being nervous? Either way, he found you absolutely adorable, and he smiled widely as he put away his phone and leaned in.

“What cake is it?” He asked.

“Chocolate,” you replied. You saw him raise an eyebrow. “Your favorite. The expensive kind.”

Jay chuckled lightly and shook his head. You excused yourself to put the cake in the fridge and you trotted back to your original spot, standing in front of the TV. Jay looked up at you in question, tilting his head, while you took a deep breath.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you muttered to yourself while at the same time checking that it was two hours left until Jay’s big day.

“What is happening?” Jay said, his tone curious.

You sighed, taking your phone out and setting the volume to the max before choosing a song that definitely sounded seductive. You placed your phone on the table and began undoing the belt of your coat.

“Mr. Park Jongseong,” you spoke. “This dance is for you.”

You began moving your hips to the beat of the song and Jay’s jaw dropped. As you pulled the belt off and tugged the coat down, it pooled to the floor and revealed the tightest dress you have ever worn wrapped around your body.

“Oh my God,” Jay said under his breath.

The dress, colored in Jay’s favorite shade of green, hugged your curves in all the right places. The spaghetti straps were barely holding it over your chest, and you were fully aware that Jay was already looking at your protruding nipples. You lifted your leg to take off your shoes, and the tight skirt of the dress rode up your thigh. Jay licked his lips and leaned back on the sofa, amused and obviously ready for whatever you had prepared for him.

You continued to sway slowly, trying your best to keep your moves subtle and in sync with the music. You made a gesture of hugging yourself, and in the process, one of the straps slid down your shoulder. You heard Jay take a deep breath, and you looked at him as you pulled the other strap down before taking a step closer to him.

“Y/N,” Jay muttered, adjusting his position on the sofa. It was clear that your little dance was making him hot and bothered, exactly how you wanted him to be.

Very carefully, you kneeled on the floor, feeling the softness of the rug brush against your knees. You reached for Jay’s hand, which was resting on top of his thigh, and tugged on it slightly just to kiss the back of it, like he was a king that you worshipped. You then moved back and sat on the balls of your feet, stretching your arms to the side and up before bringing them back down like it was one of the most important moves of your rehearsed choreography.

Then, you sat and faced the side, bringing your knees up to your chest, which obviously made the dress ride up even further. You could feel Jay’s eyes glued on you, and you rested the palms of your hands to your side, pushing them to your back as you slowly lay back down, keeping only your ass on the floor and your back arched.

Jay scoffed before he palmed his erection over his jeans, and you smiled as you sat back up and began crawling your way to him. You put both hands on his knees and he immediately grabbed them, pulling you up and onto his lap. You whimpered when you felt his clothed hard-on rub against your bare cunt, and he realized you were not wearing underwear only after he slid his hands on your thighs and under your dress.

“Fuck, baby,” Jay hissed. “You really came prepared.”

You hummed and he smiled, strengthening his grip on your thighs. You took one of his hands off and brought them up to your chest, tugging on your dress. He immediately pulled it down, revealing your tits and erect nipples.

“God,” he whispered. “Thank you for this meal.”

Jay latched his lips on your tit and you giggled, welcoming him in your embrace and resting your hand on the back of his head. He licked, sucked, and kissed your boobs so hungrily yet also so tenderly, and there was no way you could keep your eyes open throughout the whole process. His other hand pulled your dress down completely, making it bunch around your waist. His hips began thrusting upwards, and you winced as you felt the rough fabric cause friction between your folds.

“You know,” you began, breathless, “this would be better if we took it to the bedroom.

Jay did not stop kissing you. In fact, he moved his mouth upwards and started sucking your neck while his hands traveled down to your thighs, gripping them tightly before he stood up with a grunt. He bit down on your neck, and you stifled back a moan, and as he maneuvered the both of you to the bedroom, you had to be his eyes and his ears.

“Don’t drop me,” you warned. “Don’t bump me into a wall either.”

Jay smiled and moved to kiss your chin, and before you knew it he had thrown you on the bed, gently, if that was even possible. He wasted no time in undressing, pulling the top of his white shirt over his head and unbuttoning his jeans. When he started unzipping, though, he paused to look at you.

“Wait, babe,” he began, “you were done with your dance, right?”

You chuckled. “The goal was to get you to carry me to bed, so yes, mission accomplished.”

Jay smirked as he pulled his jeans down with his boxers. He then tugged on your dress around your waist, and you lifted up your hips so he could take it off completely.

“Did you just buy that dress for me to take off?” He asked.

You nodded innocently, and Jay let out a breathy chuckle before he hovered over you.

“Thank you for the little show, baby,” he said, caressing your face. “You’re so fucking sexy.” He kissed your lips. “I mean, fuck.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, and he smiled so wide that the corner of his eyes crinkled. “Practicing that was so embarrassing for me.”

Jay frowned. “You practiced?”

“In my mind,” you clarified. “It almost took a toll on me. Could you tell that I was nervous?”

Jay was kissing your neck as you spoke, and he laughed onto your skin. His finger then trailed down your waist and quickly reached your core, and he drew a line along your folds which instantly made your breath hitch.

“From this, I can tell you were just aroused as I was,” he whispered, sucking softly on your neck. “Am I right, baby?”

You whimpered before nodding slowly. “Yes,” you whispered back.

Jay then grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over, making you sit on his toned abs as he relaxed and placed his hands under his head.

“Ride me, baby,” he requested. “Give me an encore.”

You placed your hands on his shoulder and scooted downwards until you felt his shaft press against your core. Jay groaned and moved his hips up, and you had to palm his chest to keep him from moving.

“Go on,” he continued. His position was relaxed, seemingly determined to just watch you do your thing.

You began slowly rubbing your folds along his shaft, from the bottom up and then back again. With every stroke, you moaned softly, and your eyes were closed but Jay was observing your face closely. It drove him crazy how you practically looked intoxicated, and he was motivated to watch you keep going.

“That’s it, baby,” he commented. “Just grind on me like that.”

Your movements became faster, and your moans gradually became louder too.

“Keep going,” Jay whispered. “You look so beautiful, baby.”

You whined as you continued rubbing against him, and you were desperate for more.

“I don’t want to cum yet,” you muttered. “Not now.”

“Put it in, baby,” Jay said, bringing one hand to your thigh to stroke it. “We can take it slow.”

You lifted your hips and reached for his cock, aligning his tip to your entrance. You then sank slowly on him as your eyes rolled back, and you heard Jay letting out a shaky breath as he completely filled you up.

“Oh my God, Jay,” you whined. “You’re stretching me out so good. You’re so big.”

Normally you would leave the words of affirmation in the form of desperate whines and moans, but for tonight, you wanted him to hear exactly what you were thinking of, and from the way his Adam’s apple bobbed you knew it was something he liked.

“Tell me how it feels, baby,” he said, squeezing your hips.

“So good,” you whimpered, feeling him twitch inside of you. “You feel so… so good.”

Seeing how you, a woman who is usually good with words, repeat the same thing three times already boosted Jay’s ego. His hands moved to your ass, and he squeezed you there, earning another lewd moan from you.

“J-Jay…”

“Mmhm, baby,” Jay replied as he began thrusting. “Tell me more.”

Jay pushed himself up with his elbows and you rested your arms on his shoulder until he sat all the way up, staying inside of you. Your chest was now pressed against his, and he moved his face closer to yours, only close enough for your noses to brush against each other.

“I…” you began after licking your lips, “I want you to fill me up all night.”

Jay smiled before giving your lips a peck. “Do you think you can handle that, baby?”

His hands squeezed your ass harder, pushing them towards him and guiding the way you grinded your hips. Your breath gradually became heavier.

“I want to,” you continued. “I want you inside me. I want your lips on me. On my lips, on my neck, on my—”

You moaned when you felt him lick and suck on the skin beneath your jaw. Your grip on his shoulder tightened.

“On my pussy, too,” you finished your sentence with great effort.

“Hmm?” Jay hummed in response. “Do you want me to switch and put my lips down there now?”

“No!” You replied without missing a beat and sounding way too pathetic. “Not now, you’re still filling me up so good.”

Jay chuckled. Again with ‘so good’, as if those were the only words you could use to describe the feeling.

“Tell me what you want me to do right now.”

“Your hand on the back of my head,” you said. Jay did so. “Pull my hair and make me tilt my head so you can—”

You breathed shakily when you felt him suck on your skin, bruising your neck even further. You were sure you would be left with hickeys all over, but you didn’t care.

“What else, baby?” Jay mumbled against your skin.

“Stop asking me and just be rough,” you answered. “Please?”

Jay kissed you passionately and slid his tongue along your lips before pulling away. He held your ass up and slid out of you, only to hold you by your hips and turn you around. You immediately got on all fours and pushed your ass up, and when you felt his cock align with your cunt again you bunched up the sheets in your hands.

You moaned with every thrust Jay made, and his grip was strong on your hips. Your ass slapped against his pelvis, and the lewd sound echoed throughout the room along with your whimpers and his grunts. He heard you whisper ‘harder’, and he was more than happy to do so, hearing your moans go even louder.

You felt Jay’s hand move down from your hips to your thighs, and it took you a while to realize he was maneuvering you both to lie down on your sides. He pulled you towards him until your back was pressed against his chest, and with one hand he lifted up your leg before entering you again. The position allowed him to hit you on the right spot, and you screamed his name almost a little too loud. He continued to thrust into you, his skin slapping against yours, his grip firm against your thigh, and his teeth sinking into your skin like you were his prey.

“Jay…” you called, running out of breath.

Jay maintained the same pace but exerted more strength, pushing your leg even further up.

“Jay,” you called again, feeling tears beginning to pool in your eyes from the mixture of pleasure and pain.

You heard him grunt against your ear and you felt his other hand squeezing your boob a little too hard.

“Jay,” you tried again. “You’re hurting me.”

His movements stopped in an instant. His grip on your thigh loosened and you slowly felt him sliding out of you.

“No,” you reached to grab his hand in yours. “Stay inside.”

“Baby,” he called, his voice hoarse.

You rested your leg and brought your hand to your nape. Jay immediately put his hand over yours as he slid out of you completely. You were about to protest, but you were met with his eyes full of worry.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he hovered over you. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

You licked your lips before bringing your hand up to caress his face. “Just give me a minute, okay?”

Jay nodded and you closed your eyes. You then felt him kissing your forehead ever so softly, making a soft smacking sound. He then kissed you down your nose, to your left cheek, and your right, before moving down to kiss your jawline. He kissed your neck next, lingering on the parts where your skin started to turn purple. You caressed the back of his head, almost encouraging him to continue. You felt his lips against yours and you pouted, reciprocating the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against your lips.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him despite the single tear trickling down your left eye.

“We can stop if you want—”

You shook your head quickly and palmed his cheek. He placed one hand over yours as he held himself up with his other arm.

“I want to finish with you,” you begged. “Please?”

You felt Jay’s breath hot against your face when he nodded. He brought himself down on his elbows and kissed your cheek once again before he entered you, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

“I promise I’ll be gentle,” he whispered before brushing your hair back.

You nodded. “Please keep kissing me.”

Jay kept his word and his lips latched onto yours as he resumed his strokes, going a lot slower and deeper compared to before. Your hands caressed his shoulders and moved down to his biceps, and you tried your best to reciprocate all his kisses while touching every part of his body that you could reach. Your hands rested on his back as his hips began to stutter, and when your walls clenched around him during your release, he groaned into your neck and came soon after.

Usually after a long session, Jay would collapse on top of you and relax as you brushed his hair, but for now, he was quick to move to your side, relieving you of his weight. His eyes concentrated on your face as he started to stroke your waist softly with his hands.

“Y/N?” He called. “Baby…”

You licked your lips before rolling to your side to face him.

“Forgive me, love,” he whispered. “I really wasn’t thinking—”

“It’s okay, Jay,” you chuckled weakly. “If anything, I feel sorry for killing the mood.”

“You did not kill the mood.”

“For being too weak then.”

Jay frowned and immediately propped himself up with one elbow. “You are not weak.”

“Fine,” you smiled, closing your eyes. “Maybe I’m just a little too old.”

You didn’t hear a response, so you opened your eyes, and you found Jay staring at you with teary eyes.

“Please don’t say that,” he muttered. “I feel horrible for hurting you. I swear I’m never going to be rough—”

“Now hold on,” you stopped him. You then chuckled lightly before tugging on his arm gently, making him lie down again. “I liked it. When you were being rough. Maybe we just need a safe word, that’s all. I think I called you three times to get you to pause.”

“Fuck,” Jay groaned. “I’m going to punish myself.”

“Look at me.”

The switch in your tone immediately made Jay comply, and only then you noticed how his face was covered in sweat, and maybe some tears mixed with it too.

“I don’t want this to change anything,” you said. “Promise me?”

Jay shook his head, and it made you frown.

“You need to understand that hurting you is the last thing I want to do. Actually, it’s not even on my list. So next time you want me to go rough, I’ll do so but very carefully.”

You snorted. “So, not rough then?”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife,” Jay whispered, scooting closer to you. “Please forgive me for now and we’ll use this as a learning point for future sessions.”

Jay pulled you into him and began leaving kisses all over your face, not the gentle feathery kind but the wet and aggressive type, making you chuckle and close your eyes as a precaution.

“Okay, okay,” you finally said, placing a palm over his chest. “By the way,” you continued after taking a quick peek at the clock, “Happy birthday, my love.”

Jay turned to find that it was three minutes past midnight and when he looked back at you, you were smiling at him and looking at him with full adoration.

“I can’t believe I ruined my own birthday present,” Jay said. “Your dance was so good and I had to go and ruin it.”

You grew tired of him feeling bad, so you exhaled and pushed yourself away from him, and he frantically tried to keep you in his embrace.

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop apologizing. Just stay in my arms.”

“I said happy birthday,” you mumbled against his chest.

Jay began running his fingers through your hair gently. “Thank you, baby. I’m lucky I get to spend it with you for the rest of my life.”

You couldn’t help but smile so wide. Jay then cleared his throat.

“You’re smiling, aren’t you?”

You smacked his arm, and he winced out of surprise. After a short session of soft slapping and tickling, he began caressing your thigh that was now thrown over his waist.

“Do you like your birthday trip so far?” You asked, resting your palm on his cheek and caressing him there with your thumb.

Jay nodded. “It’s been lovely.”

“Good. Then you need to outdo it later when it’s my birthday again,” you demanded, gently slapping his cheek repeatedly with your hand.

“Ma’am, yes, Ma’am,” Jay said, saluting you.

You giggled and pinched his cheek. “Kiss me, you dork.”

“Yes, Boss,” Jay whispered before sealing your lips with a kiss.

As you felt his plush lips against your lips and his tongue dancing with yours, you were reminded once again about how much, and how deeply your husband loves you.

"Should we have some of that chocolate cake now?"

Jay's voice broke your train of thought, but even if he could break every part of your body, you would still love him just as much.

-END-

read the next part: meet cute

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sugar-omi · 9 months

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I need to know… for science… if when merman!Cove turns human, does he end up naked like Ariel in the Little mermaid?

ANON.... THE GASP I JUST GASPED pls i immediately started imagining it and i had to stifle a laugh 🙈🤭<3 anyway this spiraled but i hope this answers your question 🫶🫶 somehow i think i contributed more to your research than you asked for but were thinking (projecting much naeomi? LMAO /lh)

i got another ask before this one for (innocent) mer!cove hc's, it can be found here: ["merman cove headcanons"] related: ["D&D headcanons for OL1+2"]

tags : Suggestive + crack, drabble

+ NSFW under the cut, monster dick? jfc i never thought i'd type that out....., monster fucking (implied/ment)

synopsis : merman cove when he turns into a human. and a bit on what's under his clothes/scales.

well... i would like to tell you no but yeah yeah he is

cove keeps a "sash" around him, so when he wants to shift, he just ties it around his waist until he puts some pants on

(i imagine he has some fins around his hips perhaps? so he keeps it across his chest. at least keeps it there so it doesn't interrupt his swimming)

omg, imagine you plan to meet one day, and cove thinks he has enough time to run into the beach house and put on some pants before you arrive

so he shifts and starts going to the beach house but then, in the corner of his eye he sees a figure clad in your favorite color and-

it's you. wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and you're so obviously flustered

cove is frozen (a mistake)

and when you glance down, blinking owlishly, does cove yelp and dives back into the ocean....

well... needless to say i think you might need to reschedule n cove will see you in like 7 to 8 business days 😬😬

ofc it's before you're dating so cove is freaking the fuck out

for a bit after that, you meet at whatever location you've decided on until cove can stomach seeing you at the beach again <3 poor baby

i had no intention of talking abt his dick but... I must. and someone will ask anyway right? (im projecting n justifying myself LMAO)

+ in his mer form:

of course we got the typical slit in the tail whatever blah blah if you've read mermaid smut before you alrdy know

(im realizing how many.... interesting. fics i've read... no one say ANYTHING<//3)

his dick is so pretty like this but also so intimidating

because cove is so much bigger in merman form than he is in human form, although he's still impressive then.

anyway, cove's dick has the same gradient as his ears

the base is a deep blue-purple color, the tip of his dick is the same flesh tone of his tan but it has more of a purple undertone <3

now the shape

oh lord...

it's fat.

but to start light... his dick has a nice curve, and don't worry! its not a fight to put in kind of fat, but he has a knot of sorts though...

i wouldn't say it grows n you're stuck together like in a/b/o fics, but it is a small feat to pull out (this is the moment I realized imma end up writing a mer!cove smut fic 💀)

i was going to say he has a piercing down there, but i take that back. he does have ridges though on the underside of his dick

they smooth out the closer you get to the tip, and honestly, they are most prominent around the base

+ in his human form

it's normal!

well... if you ignore the way he's a bit thicker than the average man

(especially at the base, although it's not as prominent as his 'knot')

also that he still has the ridges on the underside of his dick...

other than that it's basically the same as a humans!

at least it's not as girthy as in his mer form

your finger tips can't even touch in his mer form, at least in his human form you're...

well you're closer than before <3

of course, he still has that sweet curve. and if anything, it's a bit more prominent since you aren't being stretched out n overpowered by this huge merman 🧜‍♂️

length is this the same 6-6.5 inches though <3

actually i take that back... I think in mer form, he's around 7 inches

if you're worried abt where all that dick is gonna go, dw a good couple inches is his 'knot' so just don't catch him during mating season and you're okay<3

speaking of mating season....

oh man i didn't even think abt it but he's feral

i think mermaids/sirens release a pheromone during sex, no matter what, but during mating season it's stronger

it's just to calm their partner and make them more relaxed. during mating season, though, it also becomes more like an aphrodisiac

and he's releasing more of these pheromones during this time, a more subconscious thing that otherwise he could control normally.

and ofc, unless you're not worried abt it bc you can't get preg, take some type of birth control potion, or want it. cove's one goal is to breed or mate you

if you're unmated, full expect cove to claim you during this time. now i'm not gonna say smth about biting your scent gland or some shit, but i do think it's like some kind of ritual shit

i imagine its something like cove adding a drop of your fluids (spit, blood, cum) into the special ritual juice and drinking it, then when you wake up next you find a matching "tattoo" on you and cove

or if you're basic (or a masochist) then yeah we'll go w the biting thing

besides that need to claim you, he wants you so bad

to fill you up, to fuck you dumb on his cock, and please you...

he just needs you. but he really does try to hold back, especially since if you're not a mer-person than you probably couldn't handle how rough mer-people can be during heat.

okay i...i think i'm done

excuse me while I reevaluate my existence after wtf i just wrote🫡

#olba #our life: beginnings & always #cove holden #cove holden x reader #cove x mc #cove x reader #cove our life #our life cove #cove holden smut #smut #cove holden x mc smut

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brian-in-finance · 9 months

Text

Video 📹

Outlander Executive Producer Maril Davis Breaks Down Season 7 Mid-Season Finale & Teases a Big Controversial Moment Next Year

Seven years in, audiences can’t get enough of the love, pain, war, heartbreak, drama, trauma, time-travel that Outlander delivers. The mid-season finale of Outlander surprisingly left Jamie and Claire smiling and arriving in Scotland! Jamie and Claire, happy? What? Is this Outlander? Yes, it is. And in its seventh season, it’s stronger than ever. Executive Producer Maril Davis exclusively sat down with SheKnows to break down that exciting mid-season finale, talk about the second half of season 7 which will air sometime in 2024, and even gave a few hints about season 8, the final season of this epic show, which went from the thousands of pages of Diana Gabaldon’s book series to television screens across the world. Davis also reveals her favorite moments in season 7 for both Sam Heughan and Caitríona Balfe. She discusses her favorite Jamie and Claire scenes, explains why one of their signature love scenes from the book couldn’t make it in this season, but teases that there’s plenty of intimacy next year, but also “tragedy.” In Austin at the ATX Festival in June, Davis and Balfe revealed Balfe would be directing a full episode for the first time in season 8. And when will that be exactly? Davis lets us in on that tidbit, along with a few other bits about Jamie and Claire’s love scenes, and why she’s excited for next year. And finally, she hints that there is a controversial scene that fans will see in the second half of season 7, involving Claire and not Jamie. Uh oh. Brace yourselves. Watch the video for the full chat.

Davis sat down with us on the 9-year anniversary of when Outlander first aired on Starz. “It is kind of hard to believe it’s been 9 years, it feels like yesterday we just (kind of started),” she admits. There was no better day to break down the mid-season finale and talk about the future of Outlander, but also the end, than the anniversary of the long-running hit show.

Starz / Robert Wilson

First up, Davis broke down the memorable Claire Fraser sword scene and pretty much confirmed Balfe is actually a bonnie wee swordsman. “She wields that pretty well, huh? I’m like, ‘Have you done this before?’” Davis recalls, “somehow that sword disappeared, I wonder where it is now?” She shed a little light on what it was like shooting the legendary sword scene, revealing that in the book it’s “quite a long scene!” “Certainly, there were discussions early on, could we cut that scene down a little bit, but we all decided, you know what, it was so iconic, and it’s such a powerful Jamie-Claire scene. You know I love that dynamic between them, that she basically wants to kill him, because he was almost killed. That is the Jamie and Claire.” Simply put, “That is quintessential Jamie and Claire, quintessential Sam and Caitríona. And I think they always have fun doing those scenes too. You know the back and forth… I love it.”

Starz / Robert Wilson

Season 7 compiles parts of books 6, 7, and 8, so it’s a lot to take on. Does Davis feel sad as a book reader about any story they couldn’t fit in. “Honestly, there’s a Marsali-Fergus storyline that we didn’t use, because Lauren (Lyle) had her other other show (Karen Pirie), and César (Domboy) was busy, and we just kind of decided in previous seasons we weren’t using them as much as we could. Also, there’s a Denzell storyline with a character named Dottie that we didn’t fit in, that I wish we would have, but it was such a big season, and there was so much material to fit in… As a whole, I loved this season.”

Starz / Robert Wilson

Although Davis loved the first half of season 7, she says she’s most excited for the audience to see the second half, “because it gets even crazier.” With the SAG-AFTRA strike happening, none of the actors have been able to chat about the show and all their amazing work this season, so we asked Davis what her favorite scenes for Heughan and Balfe were. She confesses she loved when Heughan was sitting in the dark waiting to confront (ahem, murder) Richard Brown (who deserved it). In the mid-season finale, “Turning Points,” Davis says, “I loved when he sees William across the enemy lines and he almost shoots him… And that kind of look of realization on Jamie/Sam’s face, I think it’s so powerful. It’s such a great season for him. He’s done an amazing job.” Davis can’t help but list all the scenes she loved Heughan in thus far, but teases he’s got great things coming in part 2 of season 7.

Starz / Robert Wilson

As for Balfe, like Heughan, Davis can’t just name one scene she loved. So, she names many. “I really do love the scene with Claire and Jamie, third or fourth episode, I mean I love her stuff with Tom Christie, both on the ship but also at the tavern was so amazing. But also, I love their (Jamie and Claire’s) love scene after that. Oh god, she’s had so many great ones too! I do love the sword scene, too. I love how she rips into Jamie… and is kind of so angry, because she was so scared. Caitríona always does that so well.”

Starz / Robert Wilson

As for Jamie and Claire love scenes, Davis chats about one of the love scenes that didn’t make it in the show. For those wondering if it was a question of timing or if it was difficult to translate that book scene to the screen, Davis says, “It was a combo. We just didn’t have, kind of, the set up that was described in the book is not the one that we had found. Wasn’t anywhere to really do that. Story-wise, it just didn’t fit this time. It’s always hard – listen, we’re not going to ignore the fact that we know obviously fans would want that scene, and we would want to do it too, it’s just hard to fit it in.” Davis continues to explain how the story might work well in the book, but then having to compress scenes in the show, “Sometimes in the book, it works out better those times in the book during war, like when Jamie’s like, ‘I have to have you,’ and Claire’s like, ‘I have to have you,” and you’re in the middle of some battle sequence… quite honestly, the transition on the screen is not as easy. In terms of the writing of something like that, and for the actors also, their justification of it too as well.” Fair point, it would be a little strange for Jamie and Claire stop the war to have sex. Or would it be the most brilliant way of stopping a war. You decide. Make love not war as they say. Is that where that saying came from? From Jamie and Claire ending wars with sex in the past?

But fear not, Davis assures everyone that there are “a few iconic scenes coming up in the second half, that if you’re a book fan that you’ll know and love, there’s some tragedy, but there’s also some lights at the end of the tunnel, and perhaps iconic scenes that are coming for Jamie and Claire, that I think book fans are waiting for. They know what they are. Wink, wink.” And Davis actually winks. So, she means it. She continues, “So, they’re coming. And also, some things I think fans aren’t looking forward to but still were essential to the book to do. And we did them!” Book readers will know what Davis is hinting about. And if we can play detective… Balfe also hinted at something coming down the pike with Claire and two men. The first already happened with Tom Christie. And separately, David Berry hinted that things get complicated for Jamie, Claire and Lord John. So, we asked Davis how they might have handled it, and she confesses, “I think it’s hopefully satisfying for the people who love that, and for the people who don’t love that!” Her answer only leads us to more questions! “Lots of wink winks going on,” she evilly laughs.

With the actors’ and WGA strikes happening, preparations for Outlander season 8 understandably have had to pause, but Davis let us in on what had been planned already. Balfe and Davis had announced at the beginning of the season that Balfe would have her directorial debut. Davis says they know which episode she’s doing, “We do know, she’s going to be first up, she’s not doing the first episode, but she’s going to be first up. Because the only we can pull off her directing is if she preps the first block, and that’s not to say she’s doing on in the first block, because sometimes we mix blocks around, but it’s the only way she can prep.” Davis goes on to explain for Balfe, who’s in the show so much, as director she’ll need about 5 weeks to prep. Doing it first will give Balfe plenty of time to prep.

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As for scripts being broken down, and if everyone had read book 9, Davis says that season 8 will primarily be book 9 with some other stuff throw in. “Season 7 combines a dash of 6 and 7 and 8.” So how far did they get before the strike? She says, “We were in the room, so certainly some of the season is broken, we don’t have the end yet though.” Terrific, maybe that means Outlander will never end. Wink, wink?

Since the Droughtlander has begun and is going to be another long one, what can Davis leave us with? At the beginning of the season, she gave us one of her signature “heard on set” lines. She says she will look for one later to tease the next block of season 7! But leaves us with this, “I honestly think the second half is crazier than the first… William, Jamie, Claire, John – John Bell! Young Ian, everyone is going to have a real rollercoaster in the second half, and face kind of their worse fears. And… some come out of it okay, and some do not.” What?! She laughs, “Take from that what you want.” What we’ll take from that is months of stress. Thank you, Maril Davis. Wink, wink, wink. All the winks to you.

As for the exclusive Maril #HeardonSet line, you’ll just have to wait until she comes across it on her phone. As Claire Fraser would say, we’ve got time. Okay, fine, she’d probably say it more British, “We’ve got bloody time.” It’s true, there’s plenty of time to re-watch the first 8 episodes of season 7. And to be honest, you can probably re-watch all of Outlander, read all of Diana Gabaldon’s books, and all of our recaps. Before you know it, the drought will be over, and hopefully the strikes will be too (with writers and artists being fairly compensated for their amazing work), and all of a sudden, you’ll turn on your TV, and there Jamie and Claire will be having all the fun in Scotland with no stress or bad things happening at all. Wink, wink.

She Knows

Remember… Caitríona’s prep for directing a Season 8 episode will begin five weeks before the season’s filming starts. As an actor, she’s required on set during filming, so regardless of which episode she directs, she’ll do her prep before any episode is filmed.

#Tait rhymes with hat #Good times #Outlander #Season 7 #She Knows #16 August 2023 #YouTube #My screenrecording #Thanks castlemaine123 #Thanks sunsetmagic85

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foxes-that-run · 5 months

Text

2014 Haylor Timeline

Timeline Tag, or years, 2013, [...] 2015 […] and 2024.

1 January - Taylor wrote Say don't go

2 - 4 January - Harry and Kendall Skiing with Jeff and his GF

6 January Lover Journal January 6, 2014, LA: Taylor decides to move to NY “dating is awful”. Reports KUWK producers wanted to film Harry and Kendall and Harry said no.

18 January - Harry puts his arm around Kendall at Eagles Concert

19 January - Harry covered "things I can't" with bible and Silver Spoon tattoo's

21 January - I know places written, then Welcome to NY, you are in Love

25 January - Lover Journal: January 25, 2014, LA - after Clive Davis Grammy party at night that she never felt better about their chances of winning a Grammy. Rumour Harry seen with Kendall.

26 January - Red doesn't win Grammy, Taylor decides to make 1989 sonically cohesive

9 February - clean written

11 February - Taylor gets haircut, Harry seen backstage, she then writes Shake it off. He writes Stockholm Syndrome

14 February - Taylor posted "there's nothing like real love"

19 February - Style was written in LA. Harry later to collect Brit because he was in bathroom. Rumour he was smoking with Nick G, Harry left after party with his mum, Zayn and Louis not there.

20 February - Harry arrives in LA

22 February - Lover Journal February 22, 2014, LA, Been in the studio with Max, Shake it off. Harry and Kendall at same Miley concert.

24 February Harry got anatomical heart tattoo (a real heart for a real love)

1 March - Both at Oscars party. Karlie Kloss flies from Paris to LA.

2 March - Harry seen in LA, then disappeared for 10 days, then LA again. 1D on break.

3 March - Taylor at vanity fair party

4 March - Alex & Sierra posts photo of Meredith in Taylor’s LA home. Harry wrote I love you for them and this was like meeting him about that, Taylor later confirmed she heard it

5 March - Harry tweets ‘hands on the wheel’ when Taylor posted the photos from the weekend starting with a photo with Ed and others at vanity fair “this weekend was like..” and including a road trip to big sur with Karlie. Karlie has posted daily till she arrived in LA then started again when Taylor posted her photos. Who took the photos? A tumblr user assumed they stayed at Deetjen's Big Sur Inn resort because someone who took a photo in the same place did, maybe, the hotel is 4 star.

13 March - Harry had dinner alone in LA, Kendall on date with someone else down the street. Harry’s motorbike broke down, he looked sad, guy who came to help mad.

24 March - Lover Journal: March 24, 2014, New York; Moved to Tribeca, never felt more busy.

27 March - MH plays call or delete with Nick Grimshaw and calls Niall and Harry, he says he has Niall’s number because he is writing a song for one direction and that he had never spoken to Harry before (but had his number and Harry recognised his voice.) MH asks to borrow £5k and Harry agrees. Harry probably knew he was on Nick Grimshaw. Harry and Niall seen in rehearsals in England.

22 April - HS in LA at Sharks game with Jeff

25 April - 5 October - 1D Where we are Tour. South American dates till 11 May.

26 April - Harry Fern Tattoos, healed, covering "Might as well..."

29 April - Matty Healy's mum says MH is writing a song for 1D

4 May - Taylor attends met gala and later features this dress of ‘old Taylor’ in LAYMMD, marked start of 1989. 1D in Argentina.

7 May - One direction bread van to Christ the redeemer in TV special. Earlier Harry drunk at the hotel pool, floated his hat in the sea and Brazil! Tattoo. 1D sue over condoms using their name, MTV says it means fans will “never ever sleep with Harry Styles”

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8 May - One Direction record Change your ticket in Fasano Hotel, (2:12) Rio De Janeiro. The TV Special shows Niall working out the lyrics and Harry recording WDBHG (2:25) also, though the hotel is not credited for WDBHG. In 2016 Matty Healy messily said he had been asked for a song for Four which wasn't used and felt Change Your Ticket was similar to guitars on the 1975 Girls. 1975 or MH never pursued it other than the shade. MH said to Capital FM he heard change your ticket before it came out and asked to take guitars off he didn’t write on it.

11 May - 1D tour break till 23 May, working on Four.

17 May - Taylor on tour break in NYC, working on 1989. Taylor seen most days in NYC in May.

24 May - One Direction (headliner) and Ed Sheeran play Radio 1 Big weekend in Glasgow. Ed wrote 18 this week. Liam said they had a show in another country the night before and that night. Taylor leaves NYC not seen for 6 days until Japan 31 May. 23 May - 13 July Europe 1D dates.

26 - 28 May - One Direction break, Taylor MIA. Harry in London and plays celebrity football game on 26th. After scoring a penalty shot Harry hugged Niall then kissed his heart tattoo.

27 May - footage of Zayn and Louis smoking weed in a car leaked, filmed in April. Harry quoted in media being annoyed they let it be filmed. Ed Sheeran live on Britans got talent, Simon Cowell asked for a 1D song, Ed declined then wrote 18 the next day.

30 May - Lover Journal: May 30, 2014, Shanghai 1989 cover art. 2 June - Tokyo, then asian dates till 12 June.

31 May - Tree Paine starts as Taylor’s publicist.

7 June - rumour Harry was getting dual citizenship

8 June - 1D had 5 day break starting in London then Stockholm on the 13th. Heart kiss in You and I

12 June - Red Tour ends in Singapore, then seen most days in NYC till the 20th.

18 June - Taylor adopted Olivia Bensen, model Steph Smith with her, Steph posts to instagram and follows both Harry and Taylor that day. Harry can be heard laughing in this video. Harry not seen, but in Copenhagen the day before and day after in London

19 June - Harry in London dressed the same as in the Four booklet

20 June - Taylor seen in NYC then not again for 10 days till 30th. 1D Paris

4 July - Taylor squad party at RI. 1D had a show in Switzerland.

31 July - Harry in LA, not seen on 28th. Taylor NYC

March - September - Harry wrote for Four: stockholm, Where do broken hearts go, I love you (Alex and Sierra) & Little bit of your heart.

1 August - 5 October - 1D US/Canada dates.

2 August - Taylor played 1989 for Harry. On 2 November Harry said he spent a week in the US and then played daytime TV for the rest of his break.

14 August - Taylor wore black and white rose dress on Tonight show with jimmy Fallon, prompting rumors 1989 will be called Roses

18 and 20 August - 18th seen with fans in US, Harry MIA on 20th

24 August - 1D show in Dallas where a fan has a “Harry you have hella good hair”’poster Harry grins at. Harry comes back (he first sees it at 1:03) to point, thumbs up and again smile at the sign.

23 and 25 August - Harry in Nashville. JALBOYH released.

26 August - 1D in LA for Ellen, then Chicago then disappeared

20 - 25 August - Taylor in LA, MIA till 3 September

30 August - Heart Kiss you and I

31 August - 9 September - Harry MIA, only seen LAX 5 September then appears in London on 9th.

3 - 14 September - Taylor seen in London till 7th, then MIA till NYC on 14th (i.e. both go from LA to London and MIA for a week) Niall said they had 10 days off and didn’t see each other.

8 September - Taylors 1989 Rolling Stone Interview where she said it was infatuation, RS said she sounded jaded.

11 September - Rolling Stone things you learn hanging out with Taylor Swift included:

"“I think the way I used to approach relationships was very idealistic,” she says. “I used to go into them thinking, ‘Maybe this is the one — we’ll get married and have a family, this could be forever.’ Whereas now I go in thinking, ‘How long do we have on the clock — before something comes along and puts a wrench in it, or your publicist calls and says this isn’t a good idea?'”

13 September - One Direction - Rose Bowl Los Angeles, during You and I on “did they ever hold each other tight like us?” Harry kissed the heart then had chest pains later in the show. He ends the show visibly unwell.

14 September - Four written with Fools Gold. First day Taylor seen (NYC) in a week, last seen London. 18 September Niall mentioned a 10 day break and again said the band didn’t see each other on break.

19 and 20 September - both play the iHeartRadio festival, on the 19th Taylor played WANGB, IKYWT, Love Story with a speech about Romeo & Juliet and a lot of pointing 22 and Shake it off. and 1D on the 20th, Harry kissed the heart tattoo in Little Things.

Late September Harry had US shows, he kissed his heart tattoo un Better than words (4:23) and was in a great mood. Taylor wasn't seen until NY the day of that show. Harry’s instagram goes b&w between 24 September and 23 October. Out of the woods released 14 October, may refer to screaming colour lyric? Taylor posted about screaming colour. Also over 28 sept anniversary

4 October - Lou Teasdale shares photo of Harry’s braids

6-11 October - Taylor in Paris and London.

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10 October - Taylor performed Riptide performance on BBC 1 with the lyric "I love you when you're singing that song / And I got a lump in my throat / 'Cause you're gonna sing the words wrong"

12 October - Harry threw up on side of the road in LA and sign put up. He had been at lily Allen’s party the night before. Press included quotes from Ed that Harry didn’t drink in the US

24 October - Taylor MTV You are in Love is about Jack and Lena, who didn't know and her body language is guarded. Recorded this date.

27 October - 1989 released, Taylor NY. 1D Film Night Changes MV

1 November - Harry wore the Saint Laurent coat in November - December 2014. In 2016, He choose it, now with a lipstick stain, as one of '12 prized possessions', “I was leaving breakfast in London wearing this coat. I thought the girl was biting me. She was lovely.”

4 November - Taylor pulls her entire discography off Spotify over period that artists would not earn royalties.

5 November - Taylor Posts a video of herself lip syncing to Kendrick Lamars Backseat Freestyle

8 November - Taylor liked a tumblr post of Matty Healy wearing a 1989 t-Shirt on stage.

10 November - Taylor wore the Butterfly and Reputation Snake Ring in the Blank Space Music video.

13 November - Harry's mermaid tattoo. “I am a mermaid”

14 November - sad guardian 1D interview

15 November - Taylor in NY, Harry records Band Aid in London. Throughout November and December Louis and Liam seem annoyed with Harry and talk over him. Many consider this the point Harry told the band he would not renew his contract, the band tensions were high from this point. See One Direction break up deep dive on Reddit.

17 November - One Direction releases Four. Perform Today show in Orlando live, Zayn missing. Filmed Four TV special. Released the Four Hangout where Harry describes the Stockholm Syndrome muse (TS) a Nympho and talks about writing from personal experience. At 31 mins Niall says WDBHG is his favourite 1D song, Harry says thank you and Niall hugs him. Harry agrees, then says best song ever then gotta be you One Direction song which (in the background) Harry adds "well done Tyler." Niall adds "your boyfriend’s back." (The boys had rhyming nicknames for each other, Tyler Swift was Taylor’s name in The Man) Change your ticket announced as bonus track on ultimate edition.

19 November - Harry and Taylor go to a 1975 concert together, ET reported they went back stage together. Change your ticket (which MH claimed was too similar to Girls after 1D did not use a song MH submitted for Four. Us weekly reports Haylor talking again.

23 November - Harry looks in Taylors direction while performing, she points at him in her performance and he makes heart eyes/whistles at Taylors AMA’s speech. Harry stayed in LA an extra day to go to Taylor's mini post-AMAs part while 1D went to Australia. (Canyon Moon vibes).

30 November - Taylor arrives London

1 December - Harry, Kendall and Cara at British Fashion Awards in London, the day of that photo of him at top of stairs.

2 December- Taylor performs Style at Victoria Secret show and completely slays. Harry joins them at the VS after party and leave 5 mins apart. (So it Goes, pick you up, leak vibes) Taylor posted photos with Ariana also, JALBOYH was still charting. Taylor wears a similar outfit in the I don’t wanna live forever video with Zayn. This was also the first time Style was played live!

4 December - Taylor returns to NY

5 December - rumours Taylor at 1975 concert

Early December- Harry follows Xander Ritz on Instagram. Xander is a lacrosse player who is close friends with Harry and seen a lot in late 2015 and 2017/2018, there are ships of them. Xander is now married to Jacquelyn. Harry is still seen with his brother Maxwell. Max and Xander co-own the Loyalist in Brooklyn. The loyalist is a high end brand integration company. Like Taylor, Xander is from Philadelphia and his family is still there. He was seen with Jeff a lot and rumoured Jeff introduced them.

6 December - Taylor has laryngitis at Jingle Bell Ball. Matty Healy has a meltdown on stage, crying, lying down and is eventually dragged off stage. In 2015 he said this was about girl stuff, drug stuff, financial stuff. In 2016 is said "“Yeah. Absolutely. And the reason I mention that is because if I had gone out with Taylor Swift I would’ve been, ‘F***ing hell! I am NOT being Taylor Swift’s boyfriend.’ You know, ‘F***. THAT.’ That’s also a man thing, a demasculinizing, emasculating thing.”

8 December - Blind "The B- list celebrity offspring of two of the worst celebrity parents ever has been hooking up the past few weeks with the lead singer of the band that Taylor Swift loves. Apparently they sent Taylor a pic of themselves naked in bed together." (Ali Lohan (Dina and Michael)/Matty Healy “The 1975″)

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9 December - one direction RTL episode where the band is angry at Harry, especially this section, where Liam seems drunk and talks about new experiences (shading Harry for saying he won’t continue 1D maybe) later in the interview says “we should have written a song about beards” and Louis said “or hair in general” and with a mocking look to Harry “har, har”, (possibly shading Harry for Matty Healy's meltdown the night before.) This was followed by a lot of interviews with Liam and Louis reacting to Harry like this and some they gave separate interviews.

12 December - Taylor performs the Z100 Jingle Bell Ball, with IKYWT over midnight to her birthday and during Shake it Off she gives a breathless sounding 'it's my birthday' she points to the left of the stage to say guy with the hella good hair. Harry was in Spain for Los40 Spain. Rob Sheffield writes a piece about just Harry (not band) in Rolling Stone which is positively glowing.

13 December - Taylor has a party in her apartment. Harry is in France for the NRG awards. Tweets asking the media to stop having her date her friends (MH & KK)

19 December - Harry at the Bowery Hotel again, wears the Another Man 12 Prized Possessions coat that later has lipstick

22 December - Harry in Central Park, wearing Saint Laurent coat

24 December - Tabloid media about Ali Lohan/MH

26 December - Taylor wears opal ring thought to be from Harry.

Continue to 2015

#haylor #haylor timeline #Youtube #2014

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