#i have spent so much time developing this you have no idea

[eerna]

i was one of the people who saw the early leaks post and i remember trying not to read too much of it but i had a moment of being like wow this cant be real but also it definitely could be. i remember reading about the damn caitvi sex scene and i thought to myself thats so ass why would they do it in a prison and then i realized the writers probably thought it was some meaningful parallel or something about vi being able to transform being imprisoned with something good

then the act dropped and i saw the damn parallels with cait finding her in the cell and i was like ok yeah. they basically had that as an idea. amanda overton was talking about it in a watch party and said they love their parallels and it was meant to symbolize vi addressing her trauma and im like. i see what they were going for and i get it I GUESS narratively but i really feel like this is such monkeys paw shit like we got this scene at what cost. and like the scene ITSELF was very good and sweet and lovely but like could it not have happened ANYWHERE ELSE?

i feel like the biggest problem with arcane s2 was that the creators rlly wanted to push the bar with animation storytelling. amanda talked about this too and like i feel like it kind of highlights the problem. where bc this show is so amazing graphically the animators wanna highlight that with as much action as possible instead of focusing on smaller scenes and more intimate quiet moments. i watched arcane s1 all at once after it came out and there were def parts that felt a little rushed in certain acts but it was nothing like s2. it just feels like they had all these story beats they wanted to hit but didnt give it the time it deserved and it sucks bc they said they always meant it to be 2 seasons so like why does it feel like this. they wrote them back to back around the same time what happened between s1 and s2. i just feel like the caitvi sex scene is a microcosm of the larger problem. they had these emotional beats and story moments that in isolation are really powerful but its almost like we didnt get a proper A to B transition. its like we skipped several steps for sooo many story beats.

such complex characters with real ass lives causing real ass problems. cait's privilege being an issue, how gratifying that could be to have explored. viktor's experience being explored more in depth. just so much more about zaun. like all of it was there in tiny slivers but it was never given the depth to GROW or properly BREATHE bc five million action scenes and plot points had to be squeezed in.

ultimately i love arcane overall. i think it has broken boundaries and done some amazing things. but its blemishes are really... painful at the same time. and knowing how the writers did such a good job in s1 makes me just like. cmon guys. you had it. YOU HAD IT

anyways sorry for blowing up your ask with so much rambling i just... idk. what are your thoughts on this stuff do you agree with my assessment or do you think the culprit is something else

No prob, welcome to the symposium~ Yeah, I totally get what the writers were going for with Vi. Which is why I am so shocked they thought it was a good idea. Like, okay, she is addressing her trauma in the sex scene... But why should her trauma get addressed by being locked in a jail cell by her sister, who just spent days being wrongfully imprisoned in there by the girl she's about to have sex with, and who then told her she was gonna off herself. If anything, the thing I was feeling was pain because it happened again, a Zaunite was thrown in jail by the Enforcers after she helped and saved them without any rights, and she was reminded she was less than them and her life is worth nothing... Mmmmm, the perfect memory to overwrite prison abuse!

I too felt s1 had some strange pacing choices, Vi and Jayce teamup comes to mind first, and that was, surprise surprise, a fight scene. But those were pretty minor, and still left time for other scenes to develop properly. It only becomes a real problem when it happens scene after scene, character after character, until no one is acting in character and you constantly feel like you have skipped a scene or two. I too remmeber them saying they wrote the seasons back to back, but. Dare I say it. I think s2 was so majorly rewritten by the time it went to recording that only the bare bones remained. In fact, that might be why we feel this way - maybe they DID have a frame they wanted to follow, but the rewrites warped and twisted the characters so intensely they ended up making no sense in the context of that frame. That's right, I'm talking about the way they decided to more closely follow and collaborate with LoL in s2. Jayce's final speech to Viktor only makes sense for game Viktor, and goes completely against s1 Viktor. Vi deciding police brutality doesn't really matter all that much makes sense for game Vi, and foes completely against s1 Vi. Jinx giving up on ever being loved or accepted by others makes sense for game Jinx, and goes completely against s1 Jinx.

So yeah my thesis is: Arcane knows it looks good, and sometimes it prevents it from being well written. It also decided to throw in its lot with LoL in s2, and no amount of good intentions from the writers could have saved it from crashing and burning.

[violent-viscera]

my true (respectful) thoughts of arcane s2

so much of the promotional material promised so much in the way of vi and jinx/powder and their sisterly relationship, but i feel like with the amount of storylines/plotlines they did in this season, it was just too busy to focus on anyone–let alone the two supposed protagonists of the show. i think the best way for me to articulate how i feel about the writing of this show is that it fell flat, lost its heart, and emotional impact of the first season.

i would have been okay with them straying from my personal favourite focus if:

the storylines had been fleshed out better

the decisions the characters made actually made sense

main characters didn't become plot devices (vi)

new additions of the show weren't just plot devices (isha, loris, maddie, etc.)

motivations of characters made sense

characters had even small lines/dialogue to articulate their intentions/ideas

less time spent on off-screen development

and the thing is with the amount of plot lines they were ambitiously aiming to see out to fruition, its really hard to also set up all these new facets or opposing characteristics in former characters–plus adding new ones too. for example:

caitlyn's facist arc that didn't really have much meaning or attention

jinx's s1 mental collapse which changed abruptly into her redemption arc via isha (plot device)

jinx's revolutionist arc (first, reluctantly and then, willingly w ekko)

vi's pitfighter/brawler arc which was literally just one clip (which ended up being a teaser that showed everything)

im almost grateful to the minimal screen time ekko got bc they didn't try to change the core and essence of who he was in s1: he stayed true to himself. he's just a boy with a huge heart and love for his people that chose to leave his happy ending in an alternate timeline to return to the ppl who needed him where he is almost guaranteed heartbreak in some way or another.

i think the main reason so many ppl loved the first season was bc the characters were relatable in one way or another and they became so multidimensional when you explored how their environment/circumstances shaped them. but this season bc it was so purely focused on the endgame instead of HOW everyone got there, the characters fell flatter, they lost a soul and heart, and i felt the show lost its charm.

i know we all have our favourite characters and storylines we want the show to focus on and i would have been okay if i didn't get my way. if the show didn't focus on jinx and vi, i would've lived (although the promotional material was unfairly misleading) if the storylines, characters, and everything else made sense to me.

of course, the animation was lovely and the music was catchy/heartbreaking. i dont regret watching the show out to its final episode. it was one of the most beautiful visual experiences of my entire life. i still love the characters and will never regret staying on board until the final moments.

but i cant lie and say im not a little sad at how it ended too.

edited add-on:

also, the voice actors did phenomenally. ella purnell just absolutely nails the delivery for every line and reed shannon also hurt me with how he portrayed ekko. so on and so forth.

but that being said, i also felt the dialogue and lines of each character felt much less impactful this season (again, writing.)

i liked viktor’s monologue at the end of act 2. that was compellingly well written

but the lines this season weren’t the same quality as silco’s monologue about drowning, jinx’s speech at the beginning of the doomed tea party, etc. everything just felt so flat and shallow this season overall.

[drakorn]

Rewriting Veilguard Part 1 - The World State

Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.

Expanding Veilguard's World State Editor

Like many of us, I was disappointed with the total amount of choices carrying over from past games being only three, one of which dealt with romance, two with decisions made in the Trespasser DLC, and all of them being from Inquisition. This already set the precedent that we shouldn’t really be expecting the game to be as connected to our unique Thedas as we have come to be used to from previous titles—no more uniquely flavoured codex entries, no more small but sweet cameos here and there that make the world itself feel like a larger place that we had helped shape.

Given The Veilguard’s very troubled production history of multiple delays, staff layoffs, and all-around restarts of the entire project, it is honestly a surprise that we even got three choices, so credit where credit is due. They made with what they had. But what if The Veilguard had this vision from the start? What if there wasn’t any of this meddling? What if Bioware simply had more time and control? What if they could truly let us import the World State this game deserved?

Now, for this hypothetical rewritten playthrough, I’m going off from the fact that the Dragon Age Keep will not be used; I actually found it a neat idea to tick my three choices in the character creator, and it would have probably been better had Inquisition done something similar. Why do I think that? Because it means we are not running into any dangers of servers potentially shutting down, leaving us trapped in the canon we happened to have imported last. Converting the Keep into an offline editor was a good idea, but unfortunately not executed nearly enough as, let’s face it, we all expected. So we’re gonna have some fun for Veilguard.

Disclaimer: I’m going to refer to the game’s title as Veilguard from now on, not “the” Veilguard. I really don’t like the change of having a “the” in a series of otherwise one-word, or one-number, titles.

Of course, we have to be realistic about this. It is virtually impossible to implement every single decision from across all three games, and those that can be implanted can’t alter the main plot too much. Certainly, we like to imagine and picture things, but let’s approach this from an actually doable point of view.

Right, so imagine you just finalised your Rook, and then get a screen titled “Past Adventures”. Not just “The Inquisition”. And it would take up the entire screen instead of being shoved somewhere in the corner of the final CC page, which many people missed. I could have missed it too, had I not known beforehand that it was going to be there!

It would say something akin to “You can customise the protagonists and several events from the games Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II, and Dragon Age: Inquisition. These choices will have both major and minor effects on the plot of Veilguard. If this is your first Dragon Age title, you would be advised to skip this section for now, as you may otherwise risk getting overwhelmed. A default World State has been pre-generated for the game.”

Why did I add this disclaimer? Because it would show us, right from the get-go, that we respect both new and old players. If you’re a new player, feel free to skip this part as it won’t matter to you anyway and, quite frankly, you wouldn’t want to spend an eternity in the character creator doing things you might not even be familiar with. But if you’re a returning player or someone who has read up on recaps and watched countless lore videos, come on right in, we’ve got you covered, don’t worry! We know how much time you spent meticulously crafting your World State for Inquisition, so join us and customise to your heart’s content.

If you choose to not skip ahead (honestly the only time I would click “skip” on that shit is if I was a new player), you will be presented with three tarot cards, one shows the griffon, the Grey Warden symbol, one shows Kirkwall’s heraldry, and one shows the Inquisition’s banner. Here’s your previous three games. And now we get to customise them a little. The little gremlin in me would be quite gleefully rubbing his hands at this prospect.

Past Adventures: The Blight

We open the first slide and are immediately hit with a crimson screen and an ambient reprise of several of Inon Zur’s themes from DAO. I loved this part in the game, when you click to customise your Inquisitor and are immediately hit with “Calling the Inquisition”. Really great stuff for early emotions. Now let’s actually customise things.

The Hero of Ferelden

I do not expect us to actually be able to recreate the Warden in the flesh, but I believe they should be at least brought up in conversation or mentioned in codex entries and letters. Here are the things we get to customise about them specifically:

The Hero: Here, we get to tick the race, gender, class, and background for our Warden. Again, no character creator, just fancy tarot cards. But guess what? That would already be more than enough for what we can do. At least we know the game acknowledges their continued existence.

The Warden’s fate: Did the Hero of Ferelden perform the ultimate sacrifice?

Romance: Who did your Warden romance, if at all?

The Companions

Now that our Warden is set, we jump over to DAO’s companions. Each companion has their own little mini-section. The first few questions will always be “Did you even recruit them? And if so, did they survive? If so, were you on good terms or not?” These questions, depending on the answers, will immediately lock or open the more specific ones. Which are, as follows:

Did the Warden have Morrigan perform the Dark Ritual?

What is Alistair’s ultimate fate?

Was Sten reunited with his sword?

What happened to Loghain?

What happened to Marjorlaine?

The Battle of Ostagar

What happened to the prisoner at Ostagar?

The Arl of Redcliffe

What is Connor’s fate?

Is Isolde alive?

Did you help Bevin and return his sword?

The Urn of Sacred Ashes

What happened to the Urn?

The Nature of the Beast

How was the situation between the Dalish and the werewolves resolved?

A Paragon of Her Kind

What happened to the Anvil of the Void?

Who rules Orzammar?

Did the Warden help Brother Burkel create a Chantry in Orzammar?

Did the Warden prove the Legion of the Dead was connected to a noble house?

Did Orta join the Assembly?

Warden’s Keep

What happened to Sophia and Avernus?

Denerim

Did the Warden complete Slim Couldry’s crime wave?

Who rules Ferelden?

Who killed Urthemiel?

Awakening

What happened to Nathaniel?

What happened to the Architect?

What happened to Vigil’s Keep and Amaranthine?

As you can see, I have not included all the choices, just the ones I think can be carried over in both realistic and interesting manners. Not all of them will heavily feature in the game; in fact, many of them are for flavour and codex entries only, but there is still merit in those. We know there is a whole lot of stuff happening in the South thanks to the letters the Inquisitor regales us with. So let’s put some world-state uniqueness to those letters. But in this rewrite, some of these choices will, in fact, feature in a more substantial manner.

And that’s Dragon Age: Origins done! Moving on to the next one!

Past Adventures: The Tale of the Champion

When we enter this screen, the CC assumes Kirkwall’s orangey-yellow tone and we get a reprisal of the key DA2 themes by Inon Zur, the most prominent one being, of course, Hawke’s family theme. This one is not going to be as big as DAO, but there are a few important factors nevertheless, especially concerning possible deaths and survivals.

The Champion of Kirkwall

Unlike the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke will actually be customisable in this one. Because no matter whether or not they were sent to the Fade or Weisshaupt, there is always the potential for them to still be alive. So, here are the choices regarding Hawke:

The Champion: Here you can customise Hawke’s gender, class, and personality.

Who did Hawke romance, if at all?

The Party

Pretty much every companion’s card, aside from a few, will have the questions “Did you recruit them?”, “Are they still alive?”, and “Were they friend or rival to Hawke?” at the forefront. Most of it is gonna be flavour, but it’s still my flavour, dammit!

What happened to Bethany or Carver?

What happened to Isabela and the Tome of Koslun?

What happened to Fenris and Danarius?

What happened to Merrill, her eluvian, and Clan Sabrae?

What happened to Bartrand?

What happened to Anders when the Chantry exploded?

Did Hawke approve of Ander’s actions?

Did Aveline marry Donnic?

The Tale of the Champion

Did Hawke protect the Bone Pit from all its dangers?

What happened to Feynriel?

Did Hawke let Zevran go?

Did Nathaniel survive?

Did Hawke side with the mages or the templars?

Fewer choices are carrying over here compared to DAO, but many of the events that occurred in DA2 are only relevant to Kirkwall’s immediate fate, which is already resolved by the time of DAI. Many of these will be flavour again, but some of them, I’m not going to say which, will definitely have a bigger impact.

Right, we’re done with DA2, let’s move on to the last one!

Past Adventures: The Inquisition

And here we get to the big one, the game that most directly impacts much of DAV’s story. We click on the last page and get the green shades and DAI’s ambience themes, a beautiful reprisal of Trevor Morris’ great hits. I would like to once again reiterate how emotional the CC music made me feel here when I was playing the game. Let us now customise our choices.

The Inquisitor

While the Hero of Ferelden will be a background figure in letters and codex entries, and Hawke more of a minor character with a significant role, the Inquisitor will have a much larger presence. Just how large, you’ll find out soon. But for now, let’s customise them:

The Inquisitor: Here you can customise your Inquisitor’s race, gender, class, and specialisation. Their personality as well, for while it wasn’t as apparent as with Hawke, the Inquisitor does still have a distinct range of dialogue choices. You can still be diplomatic, lighthearted, or even rough.

Who did the Inquisitor romance, if at all?

The Inner Circle

As with the other companion sections, pretty much all slides here will feature the “Did you actually recruit them?”, “Are they still around?”, and “Are you friends or not?” questions. Alongside a few specific ones that will definitely have more of an impact here.

Did Dorian resolve the issue with his father?

What happened to Blackwall?

Did the Iron Bull remain loyal to the Qun?

Did Cassandra rebuild the Seekers of Truth?

Did Cassandra discover the book of secrets and what did she do with it?

What happened to Harmond?

Which path did Cole choose?

What happened to Solas’ friend?

Did Varric track down the red lyrium source?

Did the Inquisitor give Vivienne the heart of a snow wyvern?

How was Cullen’s lyrium dilemma resolved?

How did the Inquisitor help Josephine resolve her family’s fortunes?

Was Leliana hardened or softened?

The Path of the Inquisitor

Did the Inquisitor embrace or denounce their title of Herald of Andraste?

Did the Inquisition side with the mages or the templars?

What was the general principle upon which the Inquisition was founded?

Who rules Orlais?

Who stayed behind in the Fade?

What happened to the Grey Wardens after Adamant Fortress?

What happened to Samson or Calpernia?

Who drank from the Well of Sorrows?

Did the Inquisitor respect the rituals at the Temple of Mythal?

Who became Divine Victoria?

The Inquisition’s Influence

Did the Inquisitor ally with the Hinterland cultists?

Was the rift in Crestwood closed?

Was Caer Bronach captured?

Did the Inquisitor make a deal with Imshael?

Was Suledin Keep captured?

Was Griffon Wing Keep captured?

Was Sutherland’s company formed?

What tone did the Inquisitor’s judgments take?

Jaws of Hakkon

Did the Inquisitor learn Ameridan’s fate?

Was Hakkon slain?

Did the Inquisitor share the truth about Ameridan?

The Descent

Did the Inquisitor stop the earthquakes from destroying the Deep Roads?

Trespasser

What is the ultimate fate of the Inquisition?

What is the Inquisitor’s final goal regarding Solas?

Again, this looks like a lot, and it is, but bear in mind that a lot of these will only have minor impacts on the story in the form of cameos and codex entries. However, there are several major DAI choices that will have significant impact.

For our hypothetical rewrite, I shall not list every single choice I made for my imaginary playthrough. Instead, I shall reveal them as we go along so as not to clutter the space too much. And it’s a bit more fun this way.

And that’s the World State editor finally done! I believe all of these choices are able to feature in some capacity, be it big or small. But no matter if it’s a big world-changing consequence or simple flavour texts and cameos, it will still be our Thedas, our own unique version of it that we helped shape.

Now that the past is dealt with, let’s look at the present. Next time we’ll talk about Rook, the six factions, and why a DAO-style origin story selection would have not only been beneficial but very doable.

[platoapproved]

Hi!! Do you have thoughts about how show amarnd being 27 changes his character? (Im guessing you do, im hoping you do, bc i wanna hear them pls)

I do in fact have ideas. So many that I'm not sure where to start! A lot of Armand in the books is informed by the fact that he's frozen at 17 and how people perceive and treat him is informed by that - the fetishization and lack of respect being the biggest results. But also, that version of Armand can very much play up the 'oh I'm just a sweet lil guy 🥺' act in a way that honestly show Armand doesn't seem to do at all. I know it's a popular fan interpretation that he's super manipulative with his big ole doe eyes, but I actually... don't really think we see that happening on screen! Like at all! This isn't me saying he doesn't do fucked up shit, but to me it never has that too-sweet 'who, me??? 🥺' energy that book Armand has.

27 years old also means that he spent a decade longer with Marius. Horrifying to think about. It also obviously alters the trajectories of his relationships with Riccardo and Bianca - I really tried to give some thought to that in my Marius Killing Fic, imagining how those stories might've been altered by having another decade thrown in.

I think a lot of people have spoken much more intelligently than I can about how book Armand is mature and trapped in an immature body and that that informs him a tremendous amount, but show Armand has a mature body but seems to deal with some arrested emotional / social development... what with the being in Marius' clutches all that extra time.

While book Armand is very intense, especially in his desire of Lestat in TVL... he doesn't strike me as needy in the same way that show Armand is? Like the intense insecurity is something unique to the show version, imho, and it's interesting to imagine how that might be linked to the change in age. :\ If he stayed with Marius an extra decade I can see that instilling that insecurity. A whole decade more of begging to be turned. A decade more of being addicted to Marius' blood? The change from in the books where Marius only jokes about selling him off to random Florentines vs, the 'donations' in the show. His position in the household would be so different if he stayed until he was a grown man while all the other apprentices left. Also, there's the added horrifying and icky layer of Marius potentially losing interest in him sexually as he matured..... :/

ANYWAY I'm sure there are lots of other ramifications to be considered but that's all that is coming to my mind at the moment. I may be wrong about some of this stuff or forgetting details..... but hopefully this is at least interesting if not 100% flawlessly accurate.

[lucedilunax]

Nervous (in a good way) - A. Fantilli

Songs masterlist

song: Nervous (in a good way) - Mae Muller

pairing: Adam Fantilli x fem!reader

summary: Adam almost failed lecture but this pushed him into her and wanting to make her his

warning: none

words: 1.3k

note: two songs left👀

masterlist

---

She and Adam were attempting the same classes. He was focused so much on hockey that he almost failed one subject. Their professor told him to ask her to help him with a project and studying for an exam that was coming up. When his eyes laid on her, he was happy to do it. She gladly accepted his offer to help him with this.

It started with weekly study dates. Super fast they became friends and have been hanging out almost every single day. They develop feelings for each other but she told Adam that she’s not ready to get into relationship. He was disappointed but made this his mission to prove himself to her. Their relationship can be summed up by he fell first, she fell harder. 

Adam never thought that failing classes can bring him to the love of his life but he was thankful for that. They were coming from different worlds but they shared the same feelings and could understand each other without words. That was the most important thing for both of them. 

You said your house wasn’t far, “So come over”

She and Adam were coming back from their date. However it was still an early hour so he proposed to go to his room in college. She wasn’t sure about this idea. They haven’t been dating and wanted to take it slowly and see when it leads them. That’s why she was avoiding meeting him in his dorm. 

Adam saw her reaction and quickly said that no one was there because everyone went to a party. After debating, she agreed. They went to his dorm and as a real gentleman, he opened the door for her. They didn’t do anything special. He played a movie and they spent two hours commenting on every scene. 

When the movie ended, Adam proposed to drive her home. It was almost midnight and she knew that he had training tomorrow so he had to wake up early. She said that she can get back home by herself but he wasn’t too certain about letting her go at night. That’s why he insisted on driving her back. She knew there’s no point of arguing so she just nodded and let him guide her.

And the boys before loved to play their games

She had feelings for Adam. She appreciated him and all the things he was doing for her. Although she had bad memories from a previous relationships, that’s why she was scared to trust him fully and label what’s between them. He understood that and didn’t push her. He was waiting for the moment when she’ll be ready. 

Her trust issues were coming from all the guys she was flirting with back in high school. She was opening for them but they always left her without a word. She felt like she was just a part of a game for other guys. That's why she closed her heart and didn’t want to repeat it again. With Adam, it felt different, but she needed time. 

Yeah, you make me nervous

But in a good way

She felt so natural with Adam’s company. Nothing was forced and he was easy to talk with. She loved sharing his interests with him knowing that he doesn’t have a clue about them. He always listened to her stories with passion and asked her questions. At first, she was shy when he was asking her about everything but with time, she found it cute. She felt finally appreciated.

Sometimes, it made her nervous when she was around him. Adam had a great memory and he would ask her about things she told him weeks earlier. Many times, she was taken aback because she thought that he was asking her out of politeness but he genuinely cared about her and her stories. In those moments, she knew that he’s the right guy for her. 

I put my head on your chest 

And I felt your heart racing

One night, Adam came to her after his match. She was surprised to see him in front of her door but also was delighted that he trusted her enough to show up. It was a tough loss and she was willing to help him get over it. He laid in her bed and she did the same. She played a movie but when he hadn't said a word, she knew it was bad because he was always yapping during movies.

They haven’t been touchy. Adam didn’t want to throw himself into her personal space and she didn’t want to ruin their dynamic. This time, she risked it and cuddled into him. He gladly hugged her. She put her head on his chest and focused on his breath. They just laid in her bed cuddling and watching movie. After a couple of minutes, he thanked her for this. She hadn’t said anything, only clinged into him. 

I can make you nervous 

But in a good way

Adam never was a shy guy. He was outgoing and willing to make new friends but with her it felt different. When she was giving him compliments after his games or his looks, he was timid. From other people it felt normal but the moment she said it, he got all red. She meant a world to him and it was bizarre to him to hear those things from her mouth. 

His brother saw the effect she had on Adam. He knew that he fall hard for her because he never saw him this shy and nervous. It wasn’t uncommon for him to giggle after receiving messages from her. Luca was happy that his younger brother finally found someone who made him this way and hoped for them to work out. 

My cheeks turn red, ‘cause I get shy

With time, she opened on Adam. She was grateful for having him and they’ve been spending plenty of nights talking. He always found time for her in his busy schedule. His favorite thing was giving her compliments, pep talks and gifts. He loved seeing her so shy but the most he adored the way her cheeks were turning red from his affection towards her.

First time when Adam asked her out on a date, she was all red. She didn’t expect that and she tried to cover it. He laughed at this sight, making a mental note at her reaction. This was the view he wanted to see every day. In that moment, she fell for her seeing how she reacted to him. None of the girls ever reacted this way and he knew that she’s special. 

You start to stutter, can’t find your words

After the draft, Adam knew he had to ask her to be official. He didn’t want to lose her when he moved out. That’s why he planned a date in their favorite spot. He was nervous, not really sure if she would agree. He knew the risk of a long distance relationship but he needed her by his side. This whole year proved to him that she’s made for him.

On their date, Adam was a bundle of nerves. He didn’t know what to do or say. In casual situations, it was easier for him but he knew she deserved a princess treatment. When he saw her in a dress entering the restaurant, he was at a loss for words. He swore that he never saw such a beautiful woman. 

Adam couldn’t find the proper words to compliment her and was looking on her with such love. She felt nervous when he hadn’t spoken to her, thinking that she’s looking bad but she pushed the thoughts and started asking about his draft. He felt like he was ripped out of transe. From this moment, everything went smoothly until he knew that he needed to ask the question.

Adam started talking about their friendship and how grateful he was for meeting her. She was looking at him expecting the worst, but when he asked her to be his girlfriend, she froze. After a couple of nervous seconds, she agreed. She knew that he’s the best guy for her.

[greyedian]

MAN I'm seriously so sad about season 2. Bc I wish act 2 had the same emotional impact on me as it appears to have on so many others. But rn I'm just somewhere between unable to care and actively annoyed by some of those writing decisions. Seriously the more I think about it the less I like it.

[eleilinnrallin]

Saw a post ranting about liberal Christians and basically saying we're changing our beliefs to fit in with our secular friends and what not and how that's going to blow up in our faces and

Honestly kind of laughing because I was raised Christian, I'm fairly liberal, and none of my beliefs have been 'changed' to fit my friends?? And most of my friends are Christian or were raised Christian anyways. (And in elementary school where that wasn't the case, no one really cared.)

No, I believe different things because I genuinely believe them, thank you. Because I studied the scriptures, prayed, had thoughtful discussion with people of opposing viewpoints, etc. Not due to social pressure. (If anything, despite social pressure.)

At the end of the day people are going to have different beliefs than you whether you like it or not! Most people that disagree with you aren't misguided or bad! And that's just ✨ how it works ✨

[arolesbianism]

Hi gamers guess who's thinking abt unit swap stuff again. Shiho and Saki discussing who would be best fit to play the cast in their musicals knowing full well they're going to assign Honami to the main character like they always do and the Saki will insist on playing the main villain like she always does and then Ichika gets stuck playing every other character while also playing the trumpet like he always does

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[zaczenemiji]

Hi I hope you are having a lovely day my dear ♥. I was wondering if you could do a Kenji Sato x reader where the reader is an assistant manager to him and one day he like acts arrogantly towards her during one of his interviews when he sees a pretty journalist amongst the crowed of ppl interviewing him and he says some hurtful things to reader and collectively ignoring her and instead choosing to focus on the journalists girl. Ever since that day reader has been silent around Sato and he thought he didn't care but it bothered him because even though she is usually quite, these days she is *too* quite and then there is like a mini celebration for like a baseball game win and reader goes with a guy who is like an athlete but is not as famous as Sato. So the kicker is reader is absolutely DROP DEAD GORGEOUS and ppl at the party even think she is a model. So Sato get jealous and he acts all possessive and protective of her , while she is still angry at him but eventually he makes it up to her over time. If you have anything else to add please do.

Shattered Pride

Kenji Sato x AssistantManager!Reader

Word Count: 1,873

Genre/Warnings: Character Development, Eventual Romance, Forgiveness, Jealousy, Regret, Redemption

Author’s Note: The idea behind this was just fantastic! Thank you so much for the request, writing this was my honor.

MASTERLIST

Being Kenji Sato’s assistant manager is not an easy task. I repeat: Not. An. Easy. Task. Throughout his baseball career, he has had several assistants who quit as soon as they were hired because, for one thing, Kenji is stubborn.

Ghosted interviews, off-topic answers, and insults to other players were just some of the many things about him that gave you a headache.

You remember being referred to him by his last assistant saying that it was a high-paying job. However, you were skeptical at how quickly and willing they were to give off their job to another person.

You understood why the first time you met him. After the meeting, you asked him, “Is there anything else you need from me today?”

In response, he gave an irritated sigh. “If I needed something, I would have asked.”

Thankfully, you were more on the nonchalant scale, and how people respond to you didn’t bother you much. You were here to do your job—and excellently at that, not exactly to be friends with an arrogant baseball star.

Kenji’s behavior was… challenging, that’s the best word for it. He barked orders, rarely said thank you, and seemed to take your presence for granted. But in conditions like these, you thrive the most; you succeed where others have failed.

Today was a usual day with the usual crowd of journalists and fans gathering in the conference room. You stood by his side, ensuring everything was in order for yet another post-game interview.

It was going all smooth and well when Kenji suddenly paused mid-sentence. It was a very short pause that wouldn’t be noticeable to others but you, with all the time you spent as his assistant, noticed it.

Your eyes looked in the direction he kept glancing at. A girl, of course, strikingly beautiful with long sleek back hair that cascaded down in soft waves.

When it was her turn to ask, Kenji leaned forward to give her a dazzling smile. “Why don’t you ask me a question?” he said, ignoring the list of pre-approved questions you handed him before the interview started.

Kenji was holding court with this journalist longer than he should. You noticed that the others in line were starting to murmur in annoyance.

You stepped forward, maintaining your professional demeanor. “Excuse me, Mr. Sato, but we need to move on,” you said. “Other journalists are waiting for their turn.”

“I’m not done here,” he said arrogantly, not bothering to look your way.

You took a deep breath, wanting to handle this situation diplomatically. “I understand,” you said. “But we’ve exceeded the time limit, and it’s only fair to give everyone a chance.”

Whichever agency’s plan was it to send her here to get ahead of other journalists, it’s working. She gave you a polite smile, clearly enjoying the extra attention.

Kenji frowned and turned to you. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something important?” He asked. “If you can’t manage your job properly, maybe you should reconsider.”

Your eyes widened. You could feel others’ on you, their stares almost cutting through your professional facade.

Swallowing your pride, you nodded and stepped back, keeping your expression neutral. But as neutral as you looked, deep down you felt a mix of anger and humiliation.

From that day on, you remained silent around Kenji, only speaking when necessary. You remained professional though, and you made sure that your job was not compromised.

During meetings, you no longer offered insights unless directly asked. When you did speak, your tone was strictly professional. Well, it has always been, but the warmth that characterized your interactions was now gone.

Like that one time during a team strategy meeting. Kenji asked for input on a new play. The room fell silent as everyone waited for your usual insightful suggestions, but you simply looked down at your notes, saying nothing.

The coach glanced at you, surprised. "Any thoughts, (y/n)?" You shook your head. "No, Coach. Nothing to add."

At first, Kenji was oblivious to all of this. He was absorbed in his own world and the adulation of his fans, as always. But as the days turned into weeks, your silence grew too loud to ignore that even he finally noticed it.

A month later, the team planned on celebrating a recent major win. This time, they have decided to invite other athletes as guests of honor. The organizers wanted to have a mix of established stars and up-and-coming talents from the sports world.

You decided to take this as an opportunity to have yourself pampered. You have been working hard, after all. Despite the obvious tension between you and Kenji, you were still able to do your job well.

That’s why at the party, you were stunning. Drop dead gorgeous, as the team said. Though the lights were dim, it seemed as if a spotlight was following you as everyone you passed by turned their heads to look.

You decided to settle by the bar for drinks. “Hey there,” came a familiar voice. You turned to see Jake approaching. He was one of the promising young athletes and a rising star in the sports world who was invited to this party.

He plays as a forward for a popular soccer team and has recently garnered attention for his impressive performance in the league. This wasn’t the first time you met as Jake and Kenji ran into each other a couple times before at different events.

He leaned against the bar, signaling the bartender for a drink. “It’s nice to see you again and this time, enjoying yourself,” he said. “You looked like you needed a break at the last event we were at.”

You chuckled softly, appreciating his observation. "Yeah, it's been a bit hectic lately."

Jake's drink arrived, and he took a sip, his eyes studying you with genuine interest. “Well, you look incredible tonight,” he said. “Have you been hearing what the others are saying?”

Jake turned to glance at the crowd, then back at you. “They were all asking if you were a model or something,” he said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think the same.”

“Thanks, Jake,” you replied, smiling. “You clean up pretty well yourself."

He laughed, a warm, infectious sound that put you at ease. "So, how's work been treating you? Still managing the chaos that is Kenji Sato?"

You hesitated, the memory of Kenji's recent behavior still fresh. "It's been… challenging," you admitted. "But I manage."

Jake's expression softened with understanding. "I can imagine. He's got a reputation for being difficult."

Unbeknownst to both of you, the baseball star you were talking about has finally arrived. His presence commanded attention as he navigated through the crowd, exchanging greetings and handshakes.

As he made his way deeper into the club, his eyes caught sight of you. At that moment he froze. Or was it time that froze? He didn’t know. All he was sure of was that for a little while, he couldn’t breathe.

You were stunning. Your outfit, a sleek, form-fitting dress that accentuated your every curve, made you look like you had just stepped off a runway. Your hair was styled to perfection, your makeup highlighting your natural beauty.

Suddenly, he noticed the man you were talking to, Jake. “That rookie soccer player,” he thought. Gosh, you deserved so much better. At that moment, with firm resolve, he declared upon himself that he would work to be the better that you deserved.

Kenjl's jaw clenched as his own possessive instincts flared up, a mix of jealousy and protectiveness surging through him. He made his way over to you, his eyes never leaving your form.

On your end, you noticed the crowd parted slightly, and you saw Kenji making his way towards you.

Turning slightly, you met Kenji’s gaze with a cool, indifferent look. "Kenji," you acknowledged, your tone polite but distant.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked, his voice tight with barely restrained emotion.

Jake looked at you, his gaze asking if you were fine with it. You smiled at him, a genuine and warm expression, something you haven’t given Kenji in a while. “I’ll go on ahead,” you told Jake. “See you around.”

Kenji led you away from the crowd, finding a quieter corner of the club. As soon as you were out of earshot, he turned to you, his eyes dark with jealousy.

"Why didn't you come with me?" Kenji asked, his frustration evident.

You scoffed. “First of all, you didn’t ask me to.” You crossed your arms, fixing him with a hard stare. "And you made it very clear where I stand with you. Or rather, where I don't."

He winced, the memory of his hurtful words coming back to haunt him. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer now. "I was wrong. I was an idiot."

You remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

“I've been a jerk, and I know it,” he continued. “I was arrogant, dismissive, and I took you for granted.”

You watch him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. Yet you looked away, the hurt still fresh. "You hurt me, Kenji,” you said. “You made me feel worthless and unimportant."

Kenji steps closer, his voice filled with regret. “I know, I'm so sorry. I was so focused on myself, on my career, that I didn't see how much I was hurting you. Your silence has been killing me. I miss your insights, your presence.”

He paused for a while before continuing. “I miss you.” He reaches out, gently taking your hand.

“You're more than just my assistant,” he said. “You're the reason I can do what I do. You make everything better, and I've been too blind to see it. Please, give me a chance to make it right. I want to earn back your trust.”

You met his gaze, searching for any sign of insincerity. All you saw was genuine regret and a longing to make things right. "This isn't something that can be fixed overnight, Kenji."

"I know," he said quickly. "I'll do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes. I just... I can't lose you."

You took a deep breath, the weight of his words sinking in. "We'll see," you said. "But it won't be easy."

He nodded, relief flooding his features. "I understand,” he said. “Thank you, (y/n)—for giving me a chance.”

As you walked back to the party, Kenji stayed close by your side, protective and possessive. arm subtly wrapped around your waist, a clear signal to everyone around that you were with him.

As the night came to an end, Kenji offered to drive you home. To which, you agreed. The drive home was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything else, it was rather hopeful.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day, Kenji found you alone in the office. “Hey," he said softly, "I was thinking we could grab dinner. Just the two of us."

You looked up, surprised. "Dinner?"

He nodded, a hopeful smile on his face. "Yeah. To thank you for everything. And to make up for being such an idiot."

You smiled at him for a moment before nodding. "Okay. Dinner sounds nice."

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie

[eddiesxangel]

The Nanny | E.M x f!reader

Anon requested :I have an idea for a smut for Eddie. Okay, so the reader is like a babysitter for Eddie, so the reader takes a video of playing with Eddie’s kid and sends it to him. When Eddie watches the video, however, Eventually, his eyes are only on the reader; he becomes attracted to the reader and gets stiff. But the reader did this on purpose for that reason, and so when Eddie gets home, his kid is asleep, and it’s just him and the reader, and they start to get intimate, and one thing leads to another …

Wc: 2.9k

Cw: smut, oral (f&m receving), p in v, unprotected sex, pull and pray

When you got the job about a year ago, you were out of school and desperate for a full-time job to pay the bills. You saw his ad for a live-in Nanny in the paper and jumped at the opportunity.

When you started this nannying business, you never thought you would fall for the handsome dad who hired you.

The family you learned was a father and daughter. Eddie was a widower. His wife had died five years previously, and he had a seven-year-old little girl.

Eddie was a dedicated manager and owner of a construction company in town. His hours were unpredictable, so he asked for your help getting his daughter, Charlotte, ready for school in the early mornings and picking her up. To accommodate your assistance, Eddie has constructed a small house in his backyard for you to stay in, providing you with your own space.

During the year you spent with Charlotte, you formed a deep bond with her, and she became your favourite person. You both shared numerous activities, such as shopping, getting your nails done, having sleepovers, and attending her dance classes.

You supported her at every recital and never missed her soccer games, even when Eddie couldn't attend. Your time with Charlotte became an irreplaceable part of your life.

Your relationship with Eddie grew as the year went on. You became more attracted to him. He was so charming, funny, and handsome. He made you feel welcomed like you were part of the family—the family you wished was real.

Eddie has been away for the last few days; he will be home this evening, but you still wanted to send him some updates about Charlotte. You sent him a video of you guys at the community pool. She loved swimming, and you couldn’t help but want to flirt. Did you wear this specific bathing suit so he would see it? Yes. You can’t help but want to get his attention, to have him look at you the way you look at him.

You were on the splash pad, and thought it would be cute to show a video of you and Charlotte running through the sprinkler. You set up your phone against the wall for balance and click record. You and her squealed as the water was cold on your bare skin. You were smiling and laughing together the whole time. You hoped Eddie found it cute…

Eddie was in the airport lounge when he received a notification on his phone. He smiled when he saw that your contact had disrupted his podcast.

He paused his show and swiped to see what you had sent him. The video began with a scene of Charlotte, soaked and jumping up and down, with her two missing front teeth visible. Eddie smirked at the sight. He loved his baby; he missed her so much. The video continues, and when you come into the shot, his eyes widen as he watches you run toward Charlotte. His eyes can't help but stare. Your ass bounced as you ran back towards his daughter; your tight bathing suit clung to your every curve. The sight of your body so exposed, your wet skin glistening in the sun, Eddie couldn’t help but feel his excitement start to grow.

You giggled and laughed as you picked her up and ran with her through the water. Your smile was so genuine, and Eddie hated that he had developed an attraction to you other than liking your personality.

When the video finished, you sent another text, but this time, it was not what Eddie had expected. When he clicked back to the chat, he almost dropped his phone because he was so shocked. Right under the wholesome video of you and Charlotte was a picture of you lying on your bed, hand draped across your naked chest.

He was looking around. To make sure nobody else saw what he was looking at, he opened the photo, and he could see more of your bare skin than he ever thought possible.

Flustered and confused, Eddie didn’t know what to make of this. Did you mean to send it by accident? Was this meant for someone else? The thought of it supposed to be for someone else sent a pang of jealousy through Eddie’s chest.

The overhead speaker saying the fight Eddie was supposed to be boarding was what snapped him out of his thoughts. The whole flight would feel extra long now that this would be all Eddie would think about. He couldn’t get home fast enough.

Eddie never replied to your video and didn’t respond to the picture you decided to take for him. You’re unsure what came over you, but you wanted a clear message. You didn’t think the video would do anything, so you got bold.

You started to regret your decision about the picture. Maybe you will lose your job. Perhaps you could play it off as an accident, pretending you didn’t know you had sent it to him.

It didn’t matter because it had been hours, and Eddie would be home any minute.

Trying to ignore the feeling of panic by distracting yourself by cooking dinner, you hear the front door click open.

“Honey, I’m home,” Eddie’s deep voice rings through the front hallway. Your stomach turns upside down at the sound of his voice.

“In here,” you try to keep your voice calm. Maybe he hasn’t seen it yet.

“Daddy!” Charlotte leaps off the kitchen chair and charges her way to her father. He’s been gone three days, the longest he has ever been away.

“Hi, handsome.” You smile as Eddie makes an appearance with Charlotte in his arms.

“H-hi,” he stutters, and his cheeks are a rose pink. He totally saw the photos.

“Dinner is almost ready,” you say, turning back to the stove, trying to hide your awkwardness about what you’ve done.

Eddie cleared his throat and took a seat as though nothing had happened. However, his mind was racing. He wanted to discuss it with you but didn’t know how to approach the situation.

Dinner was okay. You both tried to ignore the elephant in the room for Charlotte’s sake. You asked him questions about the trip, and he asked what you guys got up to. You let Charlotte do most of the talking. She eventually got bored and asked to watch a movie with both of you.

The tension could be cut with a knife as you and Eddie stole glances at one another while Charlotte was obviously enthralled by the princess singing about love in the big flatscreen.

After another hour and a half of torture, Charlotte passed out on her father’s shoulder. He smirks and says he’s putting her to bed and you stand to clean up the mess that was left in the kitchen after dinner.

A few minutes after watching the dishes, Eddie returns to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to clean; you’ve been on the clock for three days straight; I can take over. You sit and have a drink, relax.” He approaches you from behind.

“I don’t mind; youve been travelling all day; it’s my job to take care of you.” You look over your shoulder to see Eddie much closer than you thought.

“No, it’s your job to take care of Charlotte.” He raises a brow.

“What if I like taking care of you?” you drop the clean fork into the right side of the sink with all the other clean dishes.

“Sweetheart, about that…”

“Yes?” You turn excitedly.

“I um-you- I saw something.” Eddie didn’t know how to approach this. He sees you looking at him with hopeful eyes as you bite your lip. His heart fluttered in his chest when he saw the look on your face.

“I wanted you to see it.” You boldly admit.

“You- uh? What sweetheart?.” He asked, dumbfounded.

“Did you like it?” You take a small step forward, testing the waters.

Eddie visibly tenses. He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t be attracted to his kids’ nanny, but he’s also only a man—a man who has been crushing on you like he was back in high school.

“This is wrong”

“Why? It didn’t have to be?” You trail a flirtatious finger down his chest.

Eddie inhales sharply, and he can’t help his attraction to you take over.

“Because you’re you, and I’m your boss-“

“Charlotte is my boss,” you giggle and bat your eyes.

“Sweetheart,” he sighs.

“Eddie, I don’t want to keep pretending that there isn’t something between us. I can’t pretend any longer.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Please tell me it’s not just all in my head. All those late nights after we put Charlotte to bed, how we seek one another out even if Charlotte is not around, I see the way you look at me.”

Your face and Eddie’s were mere inches apart. Your lips were so close that Eddie was leaning in against his better judgment, but he wanted you so badly. You were right; there was an undeniable connection between the two of you, and Eddie didn’t want to ignore it either.

“Please, tell me I’m not crazy,” you whispered.

“You’re anything but sweetheart,” Eddie whispered back before closing the gap between you.

His soft lips formed with yours like they were made to be together.

You wrapped your hands around Eddie’s neck, pulling him in closer.

The sensation of his mouth on you went straight to your core. You needed him so badly.

Naturally, you slid your hands down his torso, up under his shirt, signalling for him to take it off; you needed to feel his skin; you kissed him like it was the last time you ever would kiss him.

You slid your hands down to his belt buckle, undoing it at a speed that wasn’t fast enough.

“Please, Eddie, I need you; let me make you feel good.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t just say things like that to me.” Eddie groans.

“Please, I need this; I’ve wanted this for so long, I can’t-” You both were so desperate, his pants couldn’t come off fast enough.

With a soft thwap, his jeans hit the kitchen floor, and you sink down to your knees.

“Fuck sweetheart, you look so beautiful like this.” he grips your chin before slipping his thumb in your mouth for you to suck on.

You slide your tongue along his rough, working hands, and he watches with lust burning in his eyes. You pop his thumb out of your mouth and replace it with the head of his cock. His thick shaft was heavy in your grip as you took more of him while not breaking eye contact. The weight of his cock resting in your mouth made you drool.

“Fuuuuuck, good girl.” Eddie’s breath became erratic.

Your eyes started watering as you tried taking him all the way down your throat, but Eddie was big.

Your breathing became shallow, but you were in heaven.

“You ok, sweetheart?” He’s looking down at you, a hand cupped on the back of your head, trying to resist the urge to thrust into your mouth as he hits the back of your throat.

You bob your head back slowly as you nod yes. You were finally able to catch your breath, drool coming out of your mouth as you pumped his cock in and out of your slick mouth.

Eddie couldn’t believe this was happening; not twelve hours ago, he was in a different state, jacking off to this fantasy of you on your knees.

He pulled you back up to kiss him, your pussy was throbbing, and the pulse that went directly to your clit was screaming for attention.

Moaning your name Eddie pushed you back so your ass was against the kitchen island, and you saw the hunger in his eyes.

He helps you jump onto the white marble countertop with quick hands.

“Baby, please.” An involuntary whimper came from your mouth, and he went in for another kiss, hands roaming from your inner thigh up until it reached your pussy.

“Oh baby,” he said the second he truly felt how wet you were for him.

Kissing down your neck, leaving purple bruises in his wake, not giving a care in the world right now about visible hickeys, he crept lower and lower until he was kneeling between your legs, forcing your knees open.

He stared into your heat.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He spoke, not breaking eye contact with your wet pussy.

He leaned in; he started with soft kitten licks to your clit with the tip of his tongue, gentle and delicate, before he took long deep strokes off his tongue, tasting every inch of you. Eddie moaned at your tase; he wanted to consume you, to make you feel so good you forget about every man before him.

The tickle of his beard was grounding you. This was actually happening.

“Oh!” You cry but quickly cup your hand over your mouth, remembering Char was upstairs.

With Eddie’s face pressed into your cunt your orgasm was quickly approaching. You couldn’t resist it anymore; your hips started gyrating into his face, and you needed more.

“Eddie, please,” you whimpered.

“You want more, sweetheart?” he pulls away and replaced his mouth with his index finger, slowly stroking up and down your weeping slit.

“Yes, Eddie, please.”

“That’s my good girl, asking so nicely,” he said, grinning up at you before standing.

With his hard cock in hand, he rubbed his tip up and down your slit gathering your juices so he could split into you nice and easy.

At this point, you were so turned on you couldn’t think, moaning out as he slowly stretched you open, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Inch by inch, the pleasure mixed with the burn of the stretch was so good, too good.

“That’s it, sweetheart, fuckin’ taking me so well.” He slipped inside of you until you felt the tickle of his pubes against your clit.

You hadn’t even realized he was talking to you, cock drunk off the feeling you were so close, and he hardly started.

Incoherent muffled moans filled the empty kitchen as Eddie's cock quickly started to pump in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot on each thrust.

You didn’t stand a chance, as he had your legs over your shoulders, ankles rolling. He gripped the backs of your calves to hold your legs as wide as they could go.

With each thrust, the pleasure became more and more, your back arching up into the feeling of him filling you up.

The feeling in your belly started to build until he unexpectedly pulled you off the counter, walked you over to the couch, and flipped you so you were on all fours.

Once you were spread open for him, he started thrusting harder.

“Oh god! There! Please don’t stop!” You screamed into the couch cushions.

It was so good your hands gave out, your cheek pressing into the brown leather, only making your ass stick out more for him.

He spreads your cheeks to watch how your greedy pussy swollen his cock each time.

A slap comes down hard on your ass as he pounds into you; you moan out with pleasure. Another smack on the other cheek to even things out.

He’s going at a pace that makes your head spin; his fingers gripped into your hips so rough you’re sure there will be bruising tomorrow.

The noises that are coming out of you are inhuman; you don’t even recognize yourself; he was so big, you were so full, it was too good. 

“shhhhhh, sweetheart, we need to be quiet.” He wraps a hand around your face to cup your mouth to muffle the moans, but that only makes it hotter, so you cry about again. You couldn’t talk; each thrust was getting deeper and deeper at the angle he was holding you in.

Each thrust was building up the coil in your stomach. You were so close when he started rubbing your clit, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m close,” you seethe through gritted teeth.

“Come, sweetheart, come on my cock.” You were already seeing stars before he finished talking; your body shook, clenching down so tight on his cock while your orgasm filled your body.

“Oh god, yes, baby, milk this cock so good” Your pussy gripped down so hard on his cock that he almost wasn’t able to pull out in time.

You feel his warm seed on your back as his orgasm shoots through him.

Dazed and all fucked out, you roll over to see Eddie beaming down at you after he cleaned you up a little bit.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Eyes glazed over, you manage a

“Hi,” you giggle.

You curled into his neck, leaving soft kisses and kitten licks; you couldn’t help yourself; your boyfriend was just so hot. 

“I think we have a lot of catching up to do,” he throws you over his shoulder. “Eddie, put me down,” you giggle, getting a full view of his bare ass in front of your face. He runs you to his bedroom; you know it is going to be a long night. 

[starry-eyed-psychopomp]

No hate to cql or anything but every time I read a fic that has Lan Wangji be the Chief Cultivator I die inside. Because like. NO. That’s a TERRIBLE IDEA for everyone involved. First of all, Lan Zhan cannot communicate properly enough to be a politician, and his main priority is his husband. He is not suited for that role. Second of all, the novels’ implication that the next Chief Cultivator (if there even is one) would be Nie Huaisang is actually very important for Wei Wuxian’s character development?? Like, Wei Wuxian knows that Nie Huaisang is a lil conniving bitch who painstakingly arranged for the downfall of the most powerful man in the cultivation world, manipulating multiple people to their deaths (or at least emotional ruins) all for his own revenge. He knows that Nie Huaisang is capable of as much damage as Jin Guangyao, and that he’s poised to take over his seat of power. Wei Wuxian knows all of that and, very deliberately, decides not to give a fuck.

Wei Wuxian, who spent his entire life picking up the messes of other people, destroying himself in the process, only to have those same people spit in his face and make him a pariah, sees this potential Problem for the cultivation world and goes, “You know what? That’s none of my business.” and runs off to elope with his boyfriend. Like, Nie Huaisang probably won’t be as bad as Jin Guangyao. He’s been shown to have more human decency, at the very least. But he also spent the entire series expertly lying to everyone, so much so that we really don’t know what he plans to do now that he’s gotten his revenge. And you know what? That’s fine. He can fuck over all the four great sects if he’d like, because the cultivation world’s politics have been a corrupt shitshow for decades, and it’s their job to sort that shit out. It’s certainly not Wei Wuxian’s job. He’s done enough, and he deserves this one moment of selfishness. He deserves to get his own happy ending and settle down with the family he’s always wanted and not have to worry about saving all those ungrateful assholes. Wei Wuxian is at least on good terms with Nie Huaisang (it was awfully convenient that his old friend’s revenge scheme coincidentally involved resurrecting him and setting him up with his crush) and he trusts that he won’t fuck with him or his family.

And that’s good enough for him! Lan Wangji is similarly happy to spend the rest of his life with Wei Wuxian, and after 13 years of mourning he’s sure as fuck not gonna ruin his second chance to go play politics with the most obnoxious people in the world. The ideal ending for both of them is a happy marriage that mainly involves doing their own thing, night hunting together, fucking every day, and teaching the kids. Their calling, where other people are concerned, is absolutely as teachers, and nothing more.

[purplecoffee13]

The Silent Type*

Summary: “Harry, the quiet guy in the office, has silently admired you during your time working for the firm. Now that your work there is done, Harry finds that he can’t let you go just yet…”

Wc: 5k

Tropes: colleagues (ceorry/nerdrry)

Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation, daddy kink, switch sub/dom dynamics, oral, choking

A/N: SUP Y’ALL!!!! God I have just been waiting to be able to write again! I still have some exams coming up next week, but I spent all evening writing this one shot because I have been dying to get back into it😋 This is my first time writing a more subrry tinted fic, so I hope you enjoy it!

General Masterlist

if you want to support me more than liking or sharing, you can consider buying me a coffee!

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Harry has never been one to talk much.

It is one of the reasons why he chose the career of software developing. Most of it, he could do on his own.

It wasn't so much that Harry hated people, he just preferred his own company. More people tend to complicate things, and Harry is a more logical guy.

That was until he met you.

About three months ago, the company for which Harry worked had started their expansion, and he was to lead the people transferred to that section of the firm. With the expansion also came new employees, and that’s where you came in.

You had been temporarily hired by the company to weed out applicants, and assist the current HR manager to help with the job interviews.

Harry still remembers that first day when you walked into the office, all nervous and fidgety. He had spotted you through the glass walls of his office, and couldn't physically tear his eyes off of you.

It wasn't until your third day helping in the office, that you actually met Harry. You had no idea what to think of him. Well, besides the obvious, of course. He was ridiculously handsome, and from the way he was staring at you, you figured that maybe he was thinking something like that about you too.

But he didn't talk.

Your first time meeting consisted of nothing but a gruff 'nice to meet you' from Harry's side, and no input in the rest of the conversation whatsoever. It was only a couple days later, when you asked the HR manager about it, that you found out that's just how he was, that he didn't really talk to anyone. From that moment on, there had been a surge of motivation to let him make you the one exception.

Harry was just fascinated by you, and he had no idea why. You were a ball of energy, talking so fast you'd think someone had clicked on your 'sped up' button, and you were chaotic, all over the place. The amount of times he watched you bump into people was impossible to keep count of.

Then, one day, you bumped into him. It should have angered him, the spilt coffee on his pants. But he had an extra suit, and you looked so worried, he didn't want to make you feel worse. You still felt bad, though, so you decided to make it up to him, and started getting him coffee every morning.

By the end of the first week, he looked you in the eyes when he thanked you. By the end of the fourth, he'd ask you how you are and recall things you'd told him. By the end of sixth, he told you things about his life, and by the end of the tenth week, you were having longer conversations with him.

It was difficult to keep up the small talk with him in the beginning. You soon found out that his lone wolf attitude may had something to do with his awkwardness. You thought, perhaps people weren't willing to work through that, and eventually he just stopped trying.

Such a prospect made you sad, and it only motivated you more to get to know him better. Of course, the longing glances, and standing unnecessarily close to each other with his knuckles barely touching your arm, those things helped too.

There was an undeniable tension between the two of you that you found incredibly difficult to decipher. The way he'd let you catch him looking at you gave it away quite clearly, but the lack of any real initiative confused you.

Had you read it all wrong? Did he even think there was something there too?

Unfortunately, there was no way to find out, as your assignment at the company was coming to an end. Today had been your last day, and tonight is a launch party to officially celebrate the expansion of the company.

You were a little sad to leave the company, especially since you really liked the people working there. It is why you are most excited for tonight.

Wearing a long yellow dress—it is your favorite color—you stride into the building. You are mesmerized by all the balloons and how pretty everyone looks. Wearing expensive suits or classy dresses. You immediately realize you might be a bit too happily dressed; everyone is wearing darker colors.

It does make it easy for everyone to spot you, though. By the time you've gotten your drink, five people have already walked up to you. About half an hour into the party, the CEO of the company takes the stage to give a small speech.

"I would like to thank everyone who has participated in making this expansion go as smoothly as it did. Your work does not go unnoticed." He says through the microphone. Everyone claps for a few seconds, and the man waits to go on until it is quiet again.

"Now, I have a special announcement to make. I have wanted to make this expansion happen since I began working for this company in 1988. Now that I finally have, I feel that my job at this firm is done. And so, I have decided to retire from my position as CEO."

Your eyes widen at the speech; you had no idea this was even a thing. By the sound of the gasps and murmurs traveling through the room, you deduce that the news is unexpected for the rest of the company as well.

"It is also with great pride that I present the new CEO of our company, chosen after careful consideration. If mr. Harry Styles could please join me on stage."

Your mouth falls open at the mention of Harry's name, and you are certain you will never be able to close it again when you see him walking onto the stage. He wears a black suit, perfectly tailored to his body, and the sight of him has you concerned that you may be drooling.

The bald man hands the microphone to Harry, who does not look very pleased to be on stage; it almost seems like he is regretting his decisions. Until his eyes meet yours, that is when you see him let out a breath.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson." He says, breaking eye contact to look at his former boss.

Right, that was his name, Johnson.

"I look forward to leading this company into more successes, and I promise that I will put my heart and soul into it. I have worked at this firm ever since I graduated college and they offered me a job during my internship, and it is safe to say that I have not regretted that decision a day of my life. I have always been loyal to this company, and I will remain loyal to you. Thank you."

You are perplexed. Why did he never tell you about this? You are very happy for him, but you do find it weird. It also makes you doubt again. Did whatever you had been building up the last months not mean as much to Harry as it did to you?

Well, it doesn't really matter, you're gone after tonight anyway.

Once the shock of the news has calmed down a bit, the party resumes as normal. Most people visit Harry one by one to congratulate him on the position, but you steer clear from him. It is no use, after tonight you will probably never see him again anyway.

Time passes, and you think you're ready to go home. There was a file in the office you forgot to sign earlier today, so you head up to do that first. The office is entirely dark when you walk out of the elevator. It's kind of eerie, so you are quick to turn on the lights.

It takes you a few minutes to find the file, since the receptionist placed it on someone else's desk. You find it on your colleague's desk, and walk over to the receptionist desk to sign it. Laying it on the keyboard of her computer, you pray that she won't displace it again, and make your way back to the elevators.

A loud shriek escapes you when Harry suddenly walks around the corner. He covers his ears at the high pitched sound, shocked by how much he scared you. With your hand on your chest you try and steady your breathing.

"Jesus, you scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry, didn't mean to." He says, a bit of worry in his tone. You look up at him.

"What are you even doing up here?"

"I was looking for you." He shrugs.

"Why?" Your eyebrows furrow, that same old tension in your stomach settling like it does every time Harry looks at you for longer than two seconds.

"You've been avoiding me." He answers casually, and you feel your heart drop. You didn't think he'd catch onto it.

"Congratulations by the way, for being the CEO. That was definitely a surprise." There is a bitterness in your tone. It is Harry's turn to frown. He hears the condescension, but his mind can't seem to come to a conclusion. Why are you angry? It's so hard to tell.

This is why he doesn't do people.

"You're mad that I am CEO?" He guesses, and your mouth falls open, much like it did when Harry's new position got announced.

"What?! Of course not! I'm very happy for you." You sputter out. The last thing you'd want him to think is that you don't want him to be happy or satisfied or successful.

"But you're still avoiding me." He repeats slowly. "You know, I didn't tell you about it because no one was supposed to know. I had to sign for it and everything. It's nothing personal."

The painful grip that his potential distrust in you had on your heart releases at the sound of his words. You could have known that it was due to something like that, you work in HR after all. That fact alone makes you realize how invested you unknowingly had become in Harry.

"I...I figured." You give him a weak smile. Harry's eyes search for yours, holding onto your gaze once he has found it. You stay like that, staring at each other for a while until you break the silence.

"I'm heading home. I don't think I'll see you again, so good luck. I'm sure you'll do wonderfully."

With much difficulty, you manage to look away from Harry and walk past him. At least, you try to, because halfway through, Harry's hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, looking back at the man who stopped you. The man who has been sending you mixed signals for the past few months.

"D– do you want to join me in my office?"

You refrain from the shiver that threatens to run down your entire body, and nod. Harry's hand slides down your arm to your hand, and he intertwines his fingers with yours before he leads you to the glass doors that belong to him. On your way there, he flicks off the lights, leaving the two of you in the dark.

The city lights light up the otherwise pitch dark office that belongs to Harry, for now. He will be moved to the CEO's office when he starts his new position.

You don't say anything as Harry closes the door, or as he walks to the closet and pulls out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. You wait in anticipation of what he's going to do.

But then he sits down. He just sits down on his chair.

You stand there, staring at him, utterly confused about this man and his intentions with you, while he obliviously pours the whiskey into the glasses. In that moment, there is a switch inside of you, one that says: fuck it. This is your last day, you need a way to release this pent up tension, and you probably won't see him ever again after this. What have you got to lose? Nothing.

You walk over to the desk and sit down on it, extremely close to Harry. The split of your dress shows your bare, freshly shaved leg, and he seems to notice. His eyes pull to your legs like magnets, and he has to force himself to look you in the eyes as he hands you the glass of whiskey.

You try your best not to smirk at the effectiveness of your plan, focusing on your next move instead. Straight for the kill.

"So, why am I here, Harry?" You ask nonchalantly, taking a sip of your whiskey. It tastes quite strong, and it takes you a lot of effort not to have an expressive reaction to it.

"What?" He asks, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

"Why'd you take me here?" You ask again, setting down your glass at the table before moving to stand in front of him. "To admire the view?"

Harry looks out the window, but his head shoots back to you when he notices you're sinking onto your knees in front of him. He thinks he may have forgotten to breathe as he observes the lustful look in your eyes. His eyes travel down to your tits, even more visible from this angle.

"Because I've admired it every day for the past three months." You continue. Harry swallows, frozen by the overload of his brain and the sensitivity of the growing constraint in these pants. "Why don't you take your pants off for me? Just enough to give me your cock. I like you in this suit."

Harry doesn't let another second fly by before he is unbuckling his pants, sliding it down just enough for you to have access to his cock and his balls. Your mouth waters at the size and girth of it, your cunt getting wetter with every passing moment.

You shimmy forward, leaning over his cock and grabbing it with your hand. Harry sighs at the minimal contact, making you feel even more powerful. Looking up at him through your lashes, you ask him one more question.

"You'll hold my hair, won't you?"

With that, you take Harry in your mouth as far as you can, before pulling away from him. A gasp leaves his mouth, and his eyes fall shut as you pump him with your hand while your mouth kisses and sucks on the head of his cock. You begin licking and kissing down his cock, while your hand softly feels up his balls.

Harry feels like he is in heaven already, and he forgets everything around him. It is only when you completely remove yourself from him that he opens his eyes again, and he sees. Catching on quickly, he leans forward and gathers your hair, twisting it around his palm.

Satisfied with Harry's obedience, your mouth attaches itself to his cock again. You take him slowly, teasingly, and move your head up and down. With every movement, you take him an inch deeper.

"Oh, f–fuck!" He groans out when you gag on him because you took yourself too far too fast. You steady your breathing, which is a bit more complicated as you can only breathe out your nose. You resume sucking him off for a bit longer, bobbing your head down a bit faster. The small sounds that leaves Harry's lips, along with his scrunched up face, gives you enough indication that he is approaching his climax.

So you remove your mouth from his cock.

He lets out a whine at the loss of contact. If your panties weren't wet before, they certainly are now. You smile at the state of him; desperate and needy for you. The fact that you've managed to make him fall apart like this makes you incredibly horny.

"I want to take all of you in my mouth, daddy." You tell him, looking up at him with your big eyes. "You'll have to help me."

You went out on a bit of a limb when you decided to call him daddy, but he doesn't seem to mind at all. In fact, Harry's eyes light up and his jaw slacks at the mention of the pet name.

"Shit– anything, sweetheart. Whatever you need." He croaks out.

"I need you to fuck my mouth." You respond sternly, not wasting any time and taking him between your lips again. You push yourself down his cock as far as you can, breathing deeply before moving your hand to Harry's hand, which is holding onto your hair, and pushing your head forward to indicate that he needs to push his cock down your throat.

Again, it doesn't take him long to listen, because Harry's hips thrust forward, his dick gliding into your throat. You moan at the force with which he pushed, and keep your mouth wide open as you let Harry navigate your head.

Once he fully understands that you are allowing him to let him use your mouth, the true fun begins. With the firm grip he has on your head, he pushes you up and down at an ungodly speed. Your jaw is already tiring from its locked position, but you power through it because the sounds that leave Harry's mouth make up for it.

"Fuck baby, such a good mouth. Never had anything like this... Jesus!" He pants out as he begins to thrust up into your mouth, and you feel like you might pass out. Suddenly, he pulls you away from his dick.

You frown, and realize as he is grabbing for a tissue that he is avoiding messing up your face. You don't stand for it, though, and wrap your lips around his cock again just in time for him to come inside your mouth. You take him deeper and feel the way his sperm shoots in the back of your throat.

"Fuck! Shit, shit..." The not so wide arrange of curse words are the only thing Harry is capable of saying as he dumps his load inside your mouth. The fact that you were so adamant about having his sperm in your mouth made his orgasm even more intense.

Your mouth lets go of his cock with an exaggerated plop, and you swallow every last bit of him, grinning at his fucked out face.

"That was... amazing." He sighs, his gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes. You hum in agreement, and get up from the floor as he pulls up his pants. You are about to walk away, when Harry grabs your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." You answer with a smile, but Harry's grip on you only tightens. He shakes his head, his lips pouting.

"No, you need to stay. Let me make you feel good too." He protests. You squint your eyes at him.

"I don't need to do anything."

Harry's eyes widen. "You're right. But just let me make you feel good before you go, please? It's the least I can do."

Your mouth slowly forms into a grin, glad to have him where you want. Well, almost.

"Beg me."

Harry scoffs. "Are you serious? I don't really do begging."

You shrug, smiling at him. "That's fine. My vibrator can get me off too."

You take a few steps towards the door, while Harry contemplates his decisions. However, those were all clouded by the sole moment to please you the second you mentioned your vibrator. The image of you getting off like that is too much to bear. He needs to do it for you.

"Stop." He says. You turn around, and walk back to him as he gets out of his chair and gets on his knees. Grabbing your waist, he pulls you closer, his nose digging into your dress. His hands run up and down your legs, and it is making you weak in your knees.

"Please, let me eat you out baby. I'll do anything to make you feel good. I need to taste you so bad, please let me pleasure you."

You swallow, eyelids ready heavy, as you sigh out. "Alright."

Harry grins at your admittance of defeat, and stands up. He leads you to sit on his desk, your dress hiked up. He removes the stuff behind you, so that you can lean back entirely in case you want to, and waltzes over to his chair.

Spreading your legs, he rolls himself closer to you, and assesses your soaking wet panties. Chuckling, he leans to the side and grabs a pair of scissors, before he cuts the skimpy material from your body. You'd say something of it, but the sight of him admiring your pussy like this is too fascinating to interrupt. So, you keep quiet.

When Harry's thumb suddenly presses on your clit and begins to rub it, you can't help but gasp. His touch feels too good, and that blowjob got you really worked up.

"You have no idea how many times I've fantasized about this." Harry says, marveling at how reactive you are being.

"Me too."

His eyebrows rise up. "Yeah? Tell me more, baby."

You bite your lip, too obsessed with the pet name he's given you. It sounds so sexy coming from his mouth. He awaits your response with bright eyes, lazily rubbing your clit.

"Your arms... I'd think about them so much. And your hands, I'd imagine you choking me with them. They're so big..." You begin, and you know that you could go on for hours if you had to tell him about everything you've thought about doing with him, or doing to him.

Harry doesn't say anything, instead responds with two fingers entering your pussy. You moan at the feeling of his large fingers pumping in and out of you. It feels way fuller than your hand already. His two fingers is the equivalent of your three fingers.

"We can definitely make those fantasies come true..." Harry says softly. "But first, let's make you come, hmm?"

You nod, your head falling back and allowing yourself to fully indulge in the pleasure Harry's giving you right now. You let yourself lay on his desk, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.

"Fuck, that feels good– oh fuck!" You shriek out when Harry tongue begins attacking your tongue after he adds a third finger. He speeds up the movements of his hand to match those of his tongue, and holds onto that tempo until your mind can't conjure up any more words to speak to him.

With the control entirely out of your hands, you let Harry guide you to your orgasm, which washes over your body like a tidal wave. You unconsciously push Harry's head further into your pussy with your legs. With an arched back, you moan at the sensitivity of your clit.

Harry lets you take a minute to catch your breath before he pulls on your arms to have you sit up straight. He is smiling sweetly at you, and your heart warms at it.

"You okay?" He asks, kissing your hands. You nod, trying to ignore the flutters in your heart at the way he is being so gentle.

"Thank you for letting me make you feel good, baby." He says, getting up and leaning into your face. His nose brushes against your cheek as he plants his lips on yours. Your arms wrap around Harry's neck as you kiss him deeper, too caught up in how good he feels and how much you want him.

You're never this greedy. You've never felt like you needed a man's cock inside of you. Like it was the only feasible option. You feel it driving you crazy, and you're sure it is the only reason you say— no, ask:

"Please, fuck me."

The grin that forms on Harry's lips makes you feel like you should regret what you said. A grin like that usually belongs on your face in situations like these. But you need him so bad, you don't really care that you are the desperate one this time.

"Oh, you're begging now too, huh?" He says cockily. You glare at him, pissed that he's acknowledging your neediness and mocking you for it too.

"It's alright baby, I'll give it to you. 'M cock's already hard again from watching you come like that. So fucking sexy..." He says. He pulls his pants down and lifts you off the table, turning you around to the glass windows and pushing your hands against them. "Bend over a bit and speak your legs for me, baby."

You do as he says, biting your lip at Harry's hand that pushes away your dress and roams over your ass. He positions his cock at your entrance and pushes himself into you, sighing in pure relief. You shut your eyes tightly at the size of him filling you up.

"Fuck, you feel good baby." He says, slowly beginning to move in and out a bit. You let out a soft 'yes', causing Harry's jaw to clench. He spanks your ass, watching as it bounces from the impact, and his cock twitching at your yelp.

"Perfect fucking ass... perfect fucking girl, aren't you?" He groans, now lazily thrusting into you. He wants to give you time to adjust, but he learns your wishes when you begin to push yourself back into him.

"Ah, I see. Greedy girl wants to speed things up, hmm? Your wish is my command." He mocks, but does speed up his pace. His hands hold your waist as he begins to pound himself into you, your ass shaking at the impact. He spanks your ass again for good measure, obsessed with the way it moves.

You nearly lose yourself in how good it feels, but you know that he can get deeper than this.

"I want to ride you... want to feel you in my tummy." You spit out, hoping he understands what you're saying in your croaky voice.

Harry listens, pulling himself out of you immediately and taking a seat in the chair. You turn around and walk over to him, throwing your legs on both sides of his lap, before grabbing his cock and sinking yourself down on it.

It goes smoother this time, but Harry's really deep now, just like you wanted. The sensation is everything to you, and it isn’t hard to tell how good it feels for him too. Glad to have a bit of the control back, you start to bounce on his cock.

Harry’s eyes travel over your body, fascinated by the way you are moving above him. His hands travel to the straps of your dress and push them down until he can get your tits out of the top part of your dress. He begins to massage them as you keep impaling yourself on his dick over and over again.

"Fuck, daddy, you feel so good... so good for me. Listening to me. Knew this was the best way to fuck you... you love it." You slur happily. Harry nods profusely at your words, jaw clenched and moaning out in pleasure.

"Yes, needed it so bad baby. You're fucking daddy so good..."

You smile at how caught up Harry looks in his pleasure, like he doesn't know what to do with it. You, however, do know what to with it. You grab one of his hands and wrap it around your throat, before you do the same to him. With his hand on your neck and yours on his, you begin to fuck him as fast as you can.

"Ah, fffuck... shit! Holy shit!" He yells out, and automatically thrusts himself up into you, reaching an even further level of deepness you had never thought possible. That along with your hands on each other’s necks, is enough to know that your climaxes are near.

"Come inside me daddy." You pant out, and he does. It is as if your permission set him off. You smile in delight at the feel and knowledge of his cum being so deep inside of you.

You fuck Harry through his orgasm, and even after. He squirms in his seat. "Wait— too sensitive."

"I don't care, I haven't come yet. Don't you want to make me feel good? Have me coming around your thick cock?" You say sensually, and Harry nods. "Words."

"Yes– fuck! I want you to come, please come around my cock. Please, please..." He begins to beg, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Your toes curl at his whiny voice, and soon your juices are gushing all over his cock. Your pussy contracting around him seems to set Harry off even more, as you feel even more sperm spraying out of his dick and into your walls.

You ride out your high until you can't move anymore. You sit there, forehead pressed against Harry's as you both come down from what just happened.

After a minute or two, you decide to pull out. Slowly but surely, you manage to get Harry's dick out of you without hissing too much at the sensitivity of every single body part down there.

You lean against the desk, too wobbly to stand on your own, and you let Harry wipe you clean with the tissues on his desk. After cleaning himself up, he stands up and positions himself in front of you.

"Hey." He says. Your hand cups his jaw and your thumb wipes away the tear that is far down his face now.

"Hi." You tilt your head. The both of you burst out laughing, still surprised by what went down just now.

"That was really good." He says once the laughter has died down. You nod in agreement.

"Good enough for a repeat?"

Harry pretends to think it over, before he responds: "under one condition."

"And what would that be?" You quirk up an eyebrow, intrigued by his vagueness. He smiles at you so wide that you wonder if his mouth might be hurting.

"You let me take you out on a date first."

You roll your eyes, pretending not to be amused as he chuckles at your reaction. But the second you see the look on his face and the sincerity behind it, you realize that he is being quite serious about this request. You bite your lip, wanting to kiss him right then and there.

"I would love that."

[kateksmallcuteowl]

June 26: Soulmates/Soulmate Marks AU

Your mark shows how old will your soulmate be when you fall in love with them. (Meaning both romantically and sexually)

For an event by @bagginshieldweek24

More headcanons after the cut. Seriously, there’s a lot, as I developed a whole idea but had no time to write a fic because of exams.

— Dwarfs come of age in around 80 y.o., having a soulmate from another race is a very rare occurrence; throughout the history of Middle-earth, there have been at most a dozen such cases, so most dwarves are unaware of this possibility. Having a mark with a number younger than the age of majority is a lifelong shame, essentially an admission of pedophilia. Unfortunately, this happens more often than having a soulmate from another race.

— Thorin spent his entire adult life, from the moment the mark appeared, wearing an extra layer of bandages under his bracers to prevent anyone from seeing the number. Fortunately, among dwarves, it is not considered inappropriate to hide the marks, as many value their privacy.

— The mark and thoughts about it were the reason why Thorin often appeared especially gloomy when the topic of romance came up.

— He truly tried to compensate for his "defectiveness" with his virtues.

— Of course, Thorin is a virgin.

— Bilbo, on the other hand, didn't think much about this; hobbits don't see anything wrong with living without their soulmate or seeing their soulmate as a friend. They are generally a loving people and don't worry about the concept of "the one and only."

— Although the topic of soulmates is considered highly romantic in hobbit literature, Bilbo was somewhat disappointed when he realized he would likely never meet his soulmate. (Hobbits are also unaware of inter-racial soulmates.)

— I tried to make young Bilbo look more like Frodo, so here he has smaller curls and a different style of shirt.

— Thorin and Bilbo both hid their marks, so when they felt an attraction to each other, especially after the Carrock, both were initially upset, thinking they weren't soulmates. Thorin, of course, was much more upset.

— During the two weeks they stayed with Beorn (yes, I'm mixing the movie and the book, what are you going to do about it? Slow burn needs time to be slow), they managed to reach the point of kissing near the river or something like that. But when Bilbo tried to unlace Thorin's tunic, Thorin stopped him and said that, unlike hobbits, for dwarves, sexual interaction is a very serious step in emotional attachment. It wouldn't be fair not to tell Bilbo what kind of monster he was getting involved with, because after seeing what Thorin had to show him, Bilbo might not even want to look him in the eye. Bilbo was honestly frustrated. (It is implied that Thorin used some term characteristic of a pedo... ahem)

— With a terrifyingly serious face, Thorin unwrapped the bandages on his wrist, and Bilbo, with a sinking heart, prepared to see a number like 5 or 12. Instead, there was a very respectable and completely normal age. Thorin turned away, not wanting to see the disappointment in the hobbit's eyes. Bilbo spent a few seconds calculating how long dwarves live and how old Thorin actually was.

— Thorin thought Bilbo wanted to shame him for having the audacity to enter into a relationship at such an age, knowing his soulmate's extremely young age. With closed eyes, he forced out that he was 195 and knew how disgusting he was because of it.

— Instead of a slap or something worse, which Thorin wouldn't have opposed, thinking any normal person had the right to treat him like that after seeing it, Bilbo reached for his own wrist and, with suspicious enthusiasm, pulled off the leather bracelet he had worn since the Shire. On the pale skin was clearly marked Thorin's age, written in dark ink with characteristic dwarvish notches.

— Some time passed in silence as they both realized that such a coincidence simply couldn't be.

— They were in for a very pleasant evening away from the company🌚🌝

— Later, when the entire company gathered by the fire, Bilbo and Thorin would come to them, holding hands, the hobbit nearly glowing with happiness in front, and a red-to-the-tips-of-his-ears Thorin slightly behind. This would be the first time anyone in the company saw Thorin without bandages, and if not for the matching age on Bilbo's wrist, now also not hidden by a bracelet, they wouldn't have believed Thorin could be normal with such a number on his skin.

— And the dwarves would realize how young Bilbo was by their standards.

— Truly, the ways of the Valar are mysterious.

— At the very end of the night, Fili would nudge Kili with his elbow and hint that since their uncle had an inter-racial mark, he might not be so angry and yell when he finds out that his brother has a four-digit number on his wrist.

[demonic0angel]

DP x DC: Alfred dies, and becomes a ghost. Being a responsible sort, he has Batman call up the expert in ghosts, Danny Phantom to help explain his new condition.

Phantom politely clapped his hands. "Welp. You're a 100% certified ghost!"

Batman stared. "... I'm sorry, what?"

Phantom gestured to Alfred, who was glowing green and floating as he set out the tea and teacups.

Phantom received one with a quiet thanks and he took a sip of the tea with obvious enjoyment. "He's a ghost. You said he died, right? He must have had such a strong obsession that it tethered him to the mortal plane. His core is pretty well-developed, most likely because he experienced so many moments of death and spent so much time around the dead. It also helps that Gotham City is prone to spirits and ghosts, especially since Lady Gotham likes you and your family so much. All of it means that because Alfred died here, around you guys, he became a ghost."

The amount of information Phantom gave almost made Batman's head spin.

"So... what now? Do we need to do anything?"

Phantom smiled and dipped his head before shaking it. He turned to Alfred. "I'll write you a permit and some time in the next two weeks, you should go to the Ghost Zone to ask for an audience with the King. Usually, ghosts aren't allowed in the mortal realm, but since you're only to stay in the Wayne Manor, I'll allow it as a favor to Batman. Still, it's best that you at least make it official for easier paperwork."

Alfred nodded curtly, rubbing his spectral fingers together.

Batman visibly softened and looked at Phantom with a grateful look. "Thank you."

Phantom smiled. "No problem! Thank you for taking care of my siblings."

Batman blinked. What siblings?

Before he could ask, Phantom blipped out of existence.

Batman stared at the spot where he used to be before he turned to Alfred. "... do we know what siblings he's talking about?"

Alfred nodded. "I have an idea."

Batman waited for an answer. There was none. Alfred continued to set up the refreshments for Bruce, who sighed and took a scone.

Well, he supposed he'd have to ask his children for answers.

[punkshort]

Swept Away | Chapter 6: Undertow

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel does his best to distance himself after that morning on the yacht, but you finally have enough of his games after attending an art gallery exhibition.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, sugar daddy/baby vibes, food and alcohol consumption, jealousy, sexual tension, flirting, threat of physical violence, good ol' fashioned argument where reader demands some goddamn answers, fingering

A/N: thank you @txtattoostark for beta-ing ❤️ And Happy Birthday @pedropascalsbbg 🎂

WC: 8.7K

Series Masterlist

You weren't going to beg. At least, that's what you told yourself over and over whenever Joel grazed a hand over your back at dinner or you caught him staring at you in your bikini just a little too long.

It had been five excruciating days since the yacht. Five days since that morning you shamelessly fucked yourself on his lap. And five days since you had found another envelope of cash on your pillow after you took a shower. You had stared at it, stomach churning with shame before you tossed it in your bag with the other unopened envelope. You had held out hope that the morning on the yacht would finally tear down his walls and he would let you in, but the cash on your pillow told you that you were wrong.

Ain't part of the deal.

Was that all this was? Were you too naive to think there was something more developing between you?

More than once that week you laid in your bed and wondered how he managed to get you all twisted around so fast. You don't let people steamroll you and you know your worth. That was his assessment of you when you first met, and he was right. That first day in his office you could hardly stand his overly confident and pompous attitude. You stood up for yourself and had a fucking spine. So where did that girl go?

Why don't you hear my terms first and then decide how much your dignity is worth?

How much was your dignity worth now? You rolled onto your side and pulled your knees to your chest, your stomach suddenly feeling queasy. You've never, ever acted this way over a man before. Was it because he kept rejecting you? Were you really that vain? No, that wasn't you. It was something more. You liked him... or, at least, you liked the parts of him he allowed you to see.

And, you don't quit. You're determined.

You breathed out a heavy sigh and rolled out of bed, giving up on the idea of sleep. You had plans to get lunch with Zoe that afternoon but until then, you had nothing but time to kill. Joel had thrown himself back into work the minute you came back from the yacht, so he spent most of his time doing that or he joined Glenn and the others to golf or play cards in the afternoons. He rarely came up for air. If he joined you by the pool, he stayed in the lounge chair, no matter how warm it was, but you could feel his eyes on you when your back was turned. You knew deep down this attraction wasn't one sided, but his resistance was driving you insane.

It was early. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting the living room in a dark blue hue. You sat with your legs tucked under you on the couch, your robe pulled tight over your sleepwear with a cup of coffee clutched between both hands, watching as the sun began to rise over the ocean.

Stop feeling bad for yourself. You're in fucking paradise.

"Oh, you're up."

"Jesus!"

You swiveled around in surprise when you saw Joel standing between the kitchen and living room, panting and covered with sweat. Your eyes swooped down before you could stop them to take in his drenched shirt and athletic shorts before looking him in the eye.

"I didn't even know you were gone," you said while trying your best to ignore the very physical reaction you were having to a post-workout Joel.

"Got an early start," he said before reaching into the fridge for a water. You turned back towards the windows to continue watching the sunrise because if you didn't, your brain was going to short circuit.

It was silent for a few minutes and you had assumed Joel had went to his room to shower, but suddenly he spoke up directly behind you. "Any plans for today?"

You took a sip of coffee so you could resist turning around to gaze at him with big fuck-me eyes. "Just lunch with Zoe."

He hummed while he chugged his water. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up from his proximity, but you remained firm and refused to turn around.

"Meant to tell you last night - Glenn invited the group of us to his daughter's art gallery. She's the curator there," Joel rounded the couch and sat down next to you with a grunt, causing you to tug your legs closer. "She's got some exhibition show all weekend, supposed to be a real big deal for her. Told 'em we'd go and show our support."

You nodded and took another sip from your coffee, eyes still glued to the ocean.

"Alright."

He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed you a credit card. "Why don't you go shoppin' with Zoe and get yourself a dress?"

You finally tore your eyes away to look at the heavy, black card dangling from his fingers.

"I think your assistant already bought plenty of options."

"So what's one more?" he asked with a little grin. He tilted his head to the side and caught your eye before saying, "I want you to pick somethin' out. Not my assistant. Want you to get somethin' you like."

The gesture was weak, but it was there, so you slowly took the card and slid it into the pocket of your robe. "Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome, darlin'," he said breezily before standing up to head towards his room. Only then did you allow your eyes to slide appreciatively down his back, your gaze lingering until he disappeared down the hall. You set your coffee mug down on the table before pulling the heavy credit card from your pocket to examine it. He infuriated you with how easily he was able to disregard what happened while you had spent almost every waking moment for the past week obsessing over it. Then a slow smile spread across your face as you tucked the credit card away for safe keeping.

If he wanted to play games, you could play right back.

"Holy fuck, girl," Zoe gasped when you stepped out from behind the curtain of the fitting room. She was holding a glass of champagne daintily between her fingers, her long legs crossed over one another as she perched on the edge of a pure white sofa. "That's the one. You have to get it. Joel's gonna lose his shit."

You grinned and turned towards the three panel mirror in front of a small platform. Stepping up, you swished the red satin material back and forth, admiring the way it hugged your curves but the eye was particularly drawn to the long slit up your left leg, ending mere inches away from your hip.

"You think so? You don't think it's a little much for an art gallery?"

Zoe shook her head and stood to join you in the mirror. "No, it's absolutely stunning. It was fucking made for you."

You couldn't stop smiling as you fiddled with the off the shoulder sleeves. "Alright, fine," you conceded as Zoe giddily clapped her hands.

After you carefully stepped out of the dress and handed it to a sales clerk, you put your own clothes back on and made your way through the store to the register when something else caught your eye.

You picked up a matching red silk thong with black lace embroidery, feeling the smooth material between your fingers.

"No brainer," Zoe said before you even questioned if you should get it. You giggled and tried your best to ignore the absurd price tag and brought it to the counter with you. You handed over Joel's credit card while the sales clerk carefully wrapped up both items in what you thought should be solid fucking gold given the price of everything in the store, then you were both on your way back to the hotel.

"Good use of an afternoon, if I do say so myself," Zoe said with an easy laugh. You had to agree, although for a different reason. For the first time all week, you felt like yourself again. The shame and the embarrassment didn't have room in your head while Zoe kept you entertained over lunch. You thought when it came time to shop for a dress with Joel's money, those feelings would come rushing back, but no. You felt confident and sexy and if Joel's reaction to your new acquisitions was half of Zoe's, you would finally have the upper hand.

By the time you arrived back to your room, you were feeling worlds better. You quietly shut the door behind you in case Joel was on a call and kicked off your strappy sandals before making your way into the living space. Joel turned around from the dining table to glance your way once before turning back to his laptop.

"Have fun?"

"Mhmm, thank you," you told him, sliding his card across the table. His eyes flickered from the card to your face to the wardrobe bag and small box in your hand.

"Found somethin' you liked?"

You grinned and nodded vigorously. "Very much."

Joel could pick up on your improved mood almost instantly and a wave of relief washed over him. He kept fucking things up with you, but that was no surprise. What was a surprise was how bad he felt when it became apparent you were hurt by something he did or said. He convinced himself it was all for the best, anyway. The more he pushed you away, the easier it would be.

"That's great," he said, eyes trailing after you as you walked towards your room. "Goin' to meet Glenn and the others for golf in a bit." He fucking hated golf, but he sucked it up to rub the right elbows. "You gonna be alright on your own for dinner?"

You glanced over your shoulder and nodded. "I think I'm just going to sit out by the pool and call it an early night. Didn't sleep too well."

You disappeared inside your bedroom and he focused back on his work. You must have went outside because it was so quiet, he became so engrossed in work that he nearly lost track of time. When the calendar reminder popped up on his phone, he quickly shut down his laptop and stood, gathering his things so he could run and get changed, but he only made it one step away from the table before he froze.

He swallowed thickly when he saw you sunbathing, which wasn't out of the ordinary but this time you had chosen to remove your bikini top completely, leaving it discarded in a pathetic little pile next to your chair. You were face down so he couldn't see anything except your perfect ass covered by a deep purple, barely there swimsuit bottom, but it was enough to send a rush of blood between his legs.

He had been doing so good. He forced himself into staying busy, staying away from you, because otherwise he knew it wouldn't take much to tear down what little defenses he had left, especially after that morning on the yacht. And now here you were, practically laid out on a silver platter for him once again while he fought with his inner demons.

Forcing one foot in front of the other, he began to move slowly down the hallway, the destination his bedroom but his eyes remained glued to the window at the end of the hall. He was within arms length of his room. If only he had moved just a hair faster because then he wouldn't have seen you sit up to get a drink of water. He wouldn't have seen the towel you had been laying on get stuck on the arm of the lounge chair. And he wouldn't have caught a quick but very revealing eye full of your bare chest.

"Shit," he whispered to himself as he continued to stare, feeling like a creep but still unable to move. You had quickly covered back up, unaware he had seen a thing as he stood cemented to the ground outside his bedroom, his cock uncomfortably hard. So hard that it made his stomach hurt.

He should have fucked you when he had the chance.

No, that would be wrong. You had no idea the type of man he was, and you deserved far better than him.

But maybe you would like him anyway.

He shook his head, muttering no under his breath as he tore his eyes away from you and slipped inside his bedroom.

He wouldn't fall for it. Not again.

"Glenn's daughter's name is Rose," Joel had told you in the car. He was forcing himself to stare out the window instead of your exposed leg in that slinky fucking dress that made him lightheaded the moment he first saw you in it. "His youngest. It's her first big exhibition as a curator. Supposed to be mostly abstract art from a local artist that's growin' a large following online."

You hadn't been to an art gallery since you were in high school. Art was never really an interest of yours and it was a topic you knew very little about, so you prayed nobody would try to test your knowledge at any point during the night.

When you first stepped into the modernist building, you had to take a moment to absorb your surroundings in awe.

The floor was a shiny, dark hardwood that contrasted nicely with the off white walls which held stunning paintings around the entire room. There was the occasional piece of furniture, a couple of chairs or a table, but the room was designed mostly with space for movement in mind.

The room itself appeared to have three or four partially closed off smaller rooms, most likely created that way so the artist could break up different sections of their collection. And most of the lighting came from the small spotlights hung directly above each wall so it allowed guests to view the works of art in the best possible light.

"This place is beautiful," you whispered so only Joel could hear. He had his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, hardly giving his surroundings a second glance when he had you looking like a piece of art right next to him.

"Hey, Miller," a deep voice said from behind, startling you both. Turning around, you tried to keep your face from falling when you were greeted by Scott and Tammy. Scott stretched out his arm and Joel reluctantly removed his grasp on you to shake his hand.

"Some place, huh?" Scott remarked, glancing around at the art while you and Tammy tried to avoid looking at one another.

"Yeah, seems like a really talented artist," Joel replied. Scott shrugged and made a face just as a young woman in her early twenties walked slowly past, all alone, and stopped in front of a blue and pink painting.

"Abstract ain't really my thing," he said, "I'll have to take your word for it." You frowned and looked around incredulously.

"Are you kidding?" you asked without even thinking. All three looked at you in surprise and the young woman nearby tilted her head to listen.

"What do you mean?" Tammy asked with an air of fake politeness.

"What I mean is this artist is extremely talented," you said, sweeping your arm out to your side to gesture to a wall of paintings. "Look at the way they used complimentary colors in each piece. Look at the texture. I don't know much about abstract art, either, but if you can't feel something when you look at these paintings, you probably should check your pulse."

The young woman smirked to herself and walked away while Scott and Tammy stared at you in surprise. The corner of Joel's mouth twitched and he ducked his chin into his chest.

"N-no, you're right," Scott stammered guiltily, taking another look around the room. "It's always good to broaden your horizons and try to find enjoyment in things you don't expect. Right, Tam?"

You smiled sweetly at them both as you felt Joel's hand slink around your waist again.

"Yes," Tammy hissed through her teeth. "Of course, you're right. Why don't we go admire the paintings that look like someone kicked a few cans of color over the canvas and called it a day?"

Scott's ears turned a little red and excused them both. While they walked away, you caught them angrily whispering to each other and you turned to smirk at Joel.

"Sorry," you told him. He just shook his head and steered you in the opposite direction.

"No, you ain't."

You giggled. "Yeah, you're right."

Then much to your surprise, he leaned over to kiss the top of your head. Before you had a chance to react, you were greeted by Glenn and Mary.

"Oh, there you are!" Mary exclaimed before wrapping her fingers around the shoulders of a beautiful blonde girl who appeared to be in her mid twenties. Her hair was brushed back into a neat, professional bun and she wore a white blouse with flowing sleeves and well fitting black slacks.

"This is our daughter, Rose," Mary beamed. You both eagerly shook her hand and introduced yourselves before you added, "This is such a lovely gallery, thank you for having us."

"Pleasure's all mine," she said with a wide grin. "Truthfully I was terrified only five people would show up."

You laughed and glanced quickly around the packed room. "Looks like it's a little more than five."

"And I'm so grateful," Rose said sincerely. "The artist is so talented that I would have felt horrible if we had a poor showing."

"Where is the artist, anyway?" Glenn asked.

"They have an anonymous persona, it's how they prefer it. Even online, no one knows their real name or what they look like. Took a while before they even trusted me enough to meet face to face," Rose explained with a smile and shrug. "Genius tends to bring along little quirks."

Shortly thereafter, someone else stole Rose's attention and with a quick wave to Glenn and Mary, Joel led you away to look at the art a little closer.

"So, what'dya think so far?" Joel asked, plucking two glasses of champagne from a serving tray before joining you in front of a pink and blue painting that caught your eye earlier. You thanked him softly for the drink and continued to stare at the painting.

"I'll be honest, I thought I would hate it but I think I'm in love," you joked. Joel chuckled and gestured to the painting with his glass.

"You like this one?"

You nodded and took a sip of champagne. "It reminds me of something," you said, tilting your head to the side, studying each stroke of blues, pinks and bits of white throughout the canvas. "I find it so peaceful to look at."

He nodded in agreement and inched a little closer to your side. "So it makes you feel somethin'."

You flushed and averted your eyes. "I hope that didn't embarrass you."

Joel shook his head. "'Course not. I liked it. I like when you stand your ground and speak your mind."

"Careful what you wish for," you chuckled. He grinned and let his eyes roam up and down your body for a moment before blowing a disbelieving puff of air past his lips and shaking his head.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?"

Butterflies erupted in your stomach and you wanted to kick yourself for being so weak for him.

"Thank you," you breathed, watching as his eyes continued to devour you. "I picked it out for you," you added a little nervously. His eyebrows shot up and you held your breath as he leaned in a little closer.

"That right?" he murmured, knuckles dragging gently down your arm and sending a shiver down your spine. "Thought 'bout me when you were tryin' on dresses? Wondered what I would like the most?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, eyelids growing heavy as you fell under his spell with ease. "And I got something else, too," you whispered, knowing full well you were pushing it, but you couldn't resist.

It took him a moment, but he figured out what you meant. You could see it in his eyes when they flickered down to your waist and then back up. They turned a shade darker and his jaw tensed, like he was physically trying to restrain himself.

"Careful," he warned lowly. The way he said it made you wonder if he was talking to you or himself.

"Or what?" you teased, cocking your head to the side playfully. He maintained his intense stare for another moment before dragging his gaze away and clearing his throat. His eyes found the painting again and he jutted his chin towards it.

"You really like it that much?"

You blinked, trying to keep up with the quick change in tone. At this point, you weren't sure why you were surprised anymore. Turning back to look at it, you nodded.

"Alright, then," Joel said firmly. "Excuse me."

You swiveled around and watched him weave his way through the crowd, making a beeline for Glenn, Mary, and Rose. You had to stifle your laugh when you realized what he was doing, but then you made eye contact with a set of dark brown, almost black eyes next to Rose and the smile slid right off your face.

Of course Brooks would be there. Why didn't you think of that sooner?

When you spun back around to give the painting one last look, you were surprised to find a young woman standing next to you admiring the painting, as well.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, then tucked a loose piece of brown hair behind her ear. The rest of her hair was pulled into a messy bun and she wore a midnight black suit with a matching tie.

"No need, I wasn't paying attention," you said sweetly. The pair of you stood in silence for a few minutes while the laughter and clinking glasses from the other guests occupied the air.

"Isn't this piece beautiful?" you asked her, trying to strike up a conversation. She grinned and shrugged.

"What do you find beautiful about it?"

You looked back at the painting, letting your gaze slide over the differing shades of blues, pinks, and whites.

"It's calming," you said. "I feel like I've seen it before but I can't pinpoint where."

The young woman nodded, urging you to continue.

You studied it a moment longer and then let out a dry chuckle. "You know, I'm gonna sound crazy, but there are these pink seashells in the ocean. My fiancé picked some up for me when we were swimming last week. It reminds me of the way they looked through the water, like the pink all distorted with the blue."

"That's exactly right."

You turned to her in surprise. "W-what do you mean?"

She stuck out her hand and you could see the beginnings of a tattoo running up her sleeve. "I'm Ellie. The artist."

"Oh, my god!" you practically exclaimed, covering your mouth before remembering your manners and shaking her hand, giving her your name. "You are incredibly talented," you told her, "and I swear I'm not just saying that."

"I know," she said, releasing your hand and shoving it back into her pants pocket. "I heard you defending me to that asshole and that overly botoxed wife of his. Thank you, by the way."

You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "You're so welcome." You looked back at the painting as you tried to calm your racing thoughts. "So the seashells on the ocean floor inspired this?"

"Yep," she said, rocking back and forth on her heels. "That one over there's palm trees in a tropical storm. The one next to it is all the different colored beach umbrellas at a resort. And the one all the way in the corner is -"

"Wait, let me guess."

Ellie smiled. "Okay."

You studied it for a minute, tapping your finger against you chin, deep in thought.

"Oh!" you said excitedly. "All the hibiscus flowers along the highway!"

She nodded with a look that told you she was impressed.

"How'd you tell?"

"We drove by them on our first day. You used greys at the bottom and bits of green in between, representing the bushes, right?"

"You got it," she said with a laugh.

"Wow," you breathed as you looked around at her paintings in a completely different light. "I know I sound like a broken record, but you're so talented. You truly have a gift."

"Thanks," Ellie said shyly. "I don't do good in crowds though, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone who I am."

"Promise," you said, giving her your pinky finger. She grinned and looped her finger around yours with a firm shake, and then her phone chimed in her pocket. She let you go and pulled it out, her expression unreadable.

"This painting just sold," she said softly, eyes slowly widening. "Shit, I'm sorry. I would've-"

"It's alright," you told her, glancing over your shoulder, but you couldn't spot Joel anywhere. "I think I know who bought it."

Ellie breathed a sigh of relief and put her phone away. "The fiancé?"

You nodded. "I should probably go thank him."

"Thank him for me, too," she joked. "It was great meeting you."

"Likewise," you said, giving her hand one more shake. "Good luck with the rest of the evening."

You weaved your way through the crowd, heading towards the back of the building where you last saw Joel. On your way, you caught Zoe's eye from across the room and waved, laughing when she fanned herself and gave you an exaggerated once over.

"Hi, honey," Glenn said when he spotted you walking by.

"Hi... have you seen Joel?" you asked, then Brooks piped up with an sinister smile.

"Think he went towards the bathrooms with Scott's wife," he told you, pretending to search his brain while his foot tapped restlessly against the wooden floor. Then he snapped his fingers as if struck with a great idea. "Tammy! That's her name, right?"

Your blood felt like fire in your veins and it must have shown because Brooks grinned and shot you a wink before you hurried off towards the back of the room.

The bathrooms were down a long hallway and around the bend. You walked as fast as you could without the sound of your heels causing someone to think you were running. As you approached the turn, you heard Joel's voice before you got a chance to see him. You couldn't hear what he said over your own heavy breathing, but his tone sounded surprised.

When you turned the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks, unable to believe your eyes.

There, right in front of the men's bathroom, was Tammy. She was pressing her lips against Joel's with her long, fake fingernails raking through his hair. You were too stunned and just barely had a moment to process the shocked look on Joel's face, one where his eyes didn't even close and his brows furrowed in anger before he pushed her back and wiped his mouth with his hand.

Before he had a chance to say anything, someone shouted down the corridor, causing them both to swivel in your direction. It wasn't until you had almost closed in on them that you realized you were the one shouting.

"You fucking bitch!" you yelled, lunging forward, completely fueled by white hot rage. Joel's arms wrapped around you before you could hit her like you intended, but you did manage to get your fingers around a good chunk of her hair. She yelped and clawed at your wrist, begging you to let go, but you ignored her pleas. Instead, you shook her head back and forth like a dog and it wasn't until her hair-do was almost completely destroyed that you finally let go, but not before angrily kicking in her direction while Joel hauled you away.

"You fucking psycho!" she screeched, frantically trying to tame her hair as she stumbled against the wall. "Nothing even happened!"

"Stay away from my fucking fiancé or so help me, I'll undo a decade of plastic surgery in ten minutes," you sneered.

"Relax!" Joel told you sternly. He turned his attention to Tammy, who was catching her breath and looked like a dissolved mess. "Get outta here," he snapped, and just like that, she scurried into the women's room to try to fix her hair.

He released his grip around you and you immediately turned on him.

"What the fuck?" you seethed, jabbing a shaky finger into his chest. He held up his palms and shook his head.

"You saw it, I didn't kiss her back, I need you calm the fuck down right now."

You dragged in a deep, ragged breath but you were still driven by unbridled anger.

"You told me this was over," you said through clenched teeth. Joel grabbed your wrists but you shook him off and stepped back. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand propped on his hip.

"It is," he said calmly. "She was waitin' for me and - y'know what? I don't gotta explain anythin' to you," he glanced up and down the hallway before dropping his voice and towering over you, anger now radiating off him. "Do I gotta remind you this ain't real?"

Tears sprung up in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away. "I don't care. Anyone could have come down this hallway and seen you, and then what? Huh? What if it was Glenn? What if it was fucking Scott?"

He knew you were right, but he just silently glared down at you, each of you breathing heavily as the adrenaline began to wear off.

"I'm leaving," you told him, gathering up your dress and straightening it out. "I'm so sick and tired of your fucking head games and I won't stay here and let you embarrass me any longer."

Something in his expression changed but you didn't linger long enough to find out what it was. You bunched up the skirt of your dress and quickly walked away, doing your best to move fast without breaking a heel. You heard Joel call your name but you ignored him, hellbent on disappearing into the crowd and getting away from him as fast as possible.

Something inside him broke when you said you were leaving. Something deep in his chest he didn't expect to feel, and suddenly he was overcome with an immense amount of guilt and shame. He needed to apologize. He needed to make things right.

Shit, did you mean you were leaving for good? Or just leaving the art gallery? Why did he keep saying the wrong fucking thing?

Panic coursed through his veins in seconds and he found himself rushing after you. He must have looked like a fool when he raced out of the hallway and back into the bustling gallery, head twisting around every which way as he desperately searched for a flash of your deep red dress, but all he saw was a sea of unrecognizable faces.

"Better keep an eye on that one."

Joel spun around, eyes wild, when he came face to face with Brooks.

"Which way did she go?" he asked. Brooks just grinned and casually swiped at his nose with a sniffle and Joel narrowed his eyes.

"Where?" he said, dropping his voice angrily. Brooks held up his hands and chuckled.

"Calm down," he warned, making the hairs on the back of Joel's neck stand up. "She looked like she was going towards the side exit. Looked pretty upset. Hope there's no trouble in paradise."

Something about the way Brooks said it gave Joel pause.

"No," Joel said, eyes flickering towards the door, "We're fine. She just wanted to head back to the hotel."

Brooks nodded and rubbed at his chin. "That's a relief. I'd hate for someone to come along and snatch her up from you."

"What did you just say?" Joel asked, taking a menacing step forward before catching himself. What the fuck did that mean?

"C'mon, you know what I mean," he replied, nudging Joel's shoulder good naturedly as if he were in on some joke. Joel clenched his teeth and tried to refrain from doing something stupid, and if he wasn't Glenn's son, he might not have held back. "Girl like that needs to be taken care of."

"I take care of her just fine," Joel said defensively, and as much as he wished he could figure out exactly what Brooks thought he knew, he didn't have time to waste. "Tell your parents she wasn't feelin' well and we had to leave."

Before Joel stepped away, Brooks winked and gave him a thumbs up. "Sure thing, man."

He hurried through the crowd, a chorus of excuse mes being uttered from his lips every other second until he finally reached the door.

The moment he stepped outside he was hit with the tropical humidity he had somehow grown accustomed to in the past two weeks, but also finally found some quiet.

He took a moment to take a few deep breaths and look around. When he spotted you further down the street with your arms wrapped around your middle and your dress fluttering in the night breeze, he breathed a sigh of relief.

You were waiting for the car to pull around with your chin tucked into your chest and he swore if he had made you cry again he would never forgive himself. But when you heard him approach and lifted your head, he didn't see tears. Instead, he saw disappointment mixed with anger.

He couldn't decide which made him feel worse.

"I'm sorry," he tried, but you shook your head as the car pulled up to the curb. He tried to reach out and open the door for you but you didn't allow it, so he hurried around to the other side of the car and slid into the seat next you.

Once the driver pulled out onto the street, he readjusted himself in his seat and turned to look at you.

"Not here," you said coldly before he could speak, gaze pinned to your window. He clamped his mouth shut and sat back. It was smart. He couldn't risk the driver overhearing something and spreading rumors, so instead he focused on what he was going to say to you to make things right once you were back in the room.

I'm sorry, she doesn't mean anything.

Would that imply you do mean something to him? Of course, you did, but he couldn't share that with you. Not after he just told you twenty minutes prior what you had wasn't real.

I'm sorry, this situation is more complicated than you thought.

Somehow he thought that wouldn't go over well.

He knew what he should really say but he couldn't bring himself to do it. I'm sorry for confusing you and leading you on. I can't help myself, I'm weak.

So instead, he settled on I'm sorry, you were right. If someone else saw, it would have ruined everything.

That is exactly what he said to you once the hotel room door finally closed behind you and you kicked off your heels, snatching them up in your hand and storming into the living room.

"Yeah, no shit," you muttered over your shoulder.

"C'mon, you know what you saw," he pleaded, "you know she took me by surprise when I was comin' outta the bathroom. I had nothin' to do with it. I told you it was over and it is, I don't know why-"

"Good question, Joel," you said, spinning around to pin him with a glare. "Why did she think she could do that? Hm?"

Joel shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Alright, let me ask you this," you said, dropping your shoes to the floor and perching against the dining room table. "What did she say to you on the yacht?"

"When?"

"You know damn well when," you snapped. You were getting too fed up now to play nice and it felt liberating to have that side of you back once again. You don't let people steamroll you. "When she followed you inside that day before the island dinner. When you told me, I only need to know what you say I need to know. Well, Joel, I need to know. So fucking tell me. What'd she say?"

His nostrils flared when he took a deep breath. People didn't talk to him like that. If it were anyone else, he would send them packing without a second thought, and maybe with a few choice words in return. But you? He couldn't do it. He couldn't stomach the thought of losing you.

"Fine," he grumbled, yanking out a chair at the table next to where you were standing and collapsing into it. He tugged at his tie, loosening the knot so it hung wide at his neck, then unfastened the top two buttons of his dress shirt before he spoke.

"She was surprised to hear 'bout our engagement. Wondered why I didn't warn her. Asked if we're happy. Usual beatin' 'round the bush shit."

You quirked an eyebrow and crossed your ankles. "What do you mean, beat around the bush? What was she really asking about?"

He raked his fingers through his hair and shrugged. "Y'know. Lookin' to see if I was interested in meetin' up with her during the stay."

"And what did you say?"

He rolled his eyes and gave you a disbelieving look. "The hell you think I said? No. I fuckin' said no."

"And she still kissed you after you said no on the yacht?"

"Yeah," he replied, crossing his arms and glancing up at you. "Think you ruffled her feathers a bit. Got her jealous."

You scoffed and looked away but secretly you found a sick sense of satisfaction from it.

"Happy now?" he asked after the silence dragged on a moment too long for his liking.

"Thrilled," you said sarcastically. You clasped your hands together in front of you and stared down at the floor. He watched you for another minute, feeling the energy in the room begin to shift back to normal, and he smirked to himself.

"What?"

"Never had two women fight over me before," he said with a wide smile, one which he tried to cover with his palm when he dragged his hand over his mouth.

"Yeah, well," you murmured, fiddling with your ring, "I would have wrecked her if you didn't stop me."

"I got no doubt," he replied, his hand dropping to find your exposed knee. Now that you seemed less pissed, his focus was being drawn back to you wearing that dress just for him. And then he remembered your earlier comment and it took every ounce of restraint not to slide his hand up your thigh and under your skirt to see what else you had on.

"We were havin' such a nice time 'fore all that happened," he murmured, his gaze wandering up and down your leg and you felt yourself begin to soften. "Think you were sayin' you bought more than just the dress, hm?"

Goddamnit, how did he do it? How did he manage to pull every emotion out of you in just one evening?

"You wanna see?" you asked, hoping he didn't hear the tremor in your voice or notice the way your legs fell open a fraction more.

He lifted an eyebrow and smirked, gaze still fixed on your bare leg while his hand began to migrate further past your knee.

Yes, he wanted to say. Yes, please show me. Let me see all of you. But he caught himself and his hand stilled.

"Why don't you just tell me, instead?"

"Or you could just move your hand a few more inches and find out for yourself," you teased, spreading your thighs a little more. His fingers pressed into your skin and you saw him swallow.

"Can't, y'know that."

You let out a frustrated huff and pushed yourself off the table, away from him.

"You're confusing the fuck out of me, Joel! One second you're all over me and the next you're pushing me away. And don't try to tell me it's all for show. You do this shit all the time."

You marched into the living room and plopped down onto one of the couches. You were fucking tired. Tired from the rollercoaster evening, tired from Joel's mixed signals, tired from everything.

He stood up with a groan and followed you to the living room, raking his fingers through his hair as he moved.

"I'm tryin' to protect you," he snapped, startling you. "I don't fuckin' trust myself 'round you, don't you see that? Don't you see what you're doin' to me?"

His fingers twitched at his sides as he stood in front of you, imploring you to understand with a pained look on his face.

"Then why are you fighting it?" you whined, standing up. As you approached you saw his shoulders stiffen, but he didn't move away. "Why can't we-"

"'Cause I ain't a good man, darlin'," he said sadly, gaze dropping to the floor. "You deserve so much better."

"But I like you," you told him softly, reaching out and taking his hand. You brought it up to cup your face while a war waged behind his eyes. "I refuse to believe you're not a good man, Joel."

You turned so you could press a kiss into the palm of his hand, then slowly guided his arm lower, all the while staring him right in the eye until his fingertips brushed against the slit in your dress. Your breath hitched as you led him lower, underneath the material until his fingers finally came in contact with the silky red panties trimmed with black lace.

"Fuck," he whispered, cheeks tinting pink and eyes all wide and dark when he felt the wet patch that had seeped through. After that, he couldn't stop himself. "Dirty fuckin' girl," he growled, taking a step closer so he could tower over you while two thick fingers pressed and stroked steadily over your panties. A breathy moan slipped past your lips and you released his arm so you could grab onto his shoulders for support. Joel wrapped his other arm around your waist and walked you back towards the sofa, all the while staring down at you like he was a predator who finally caught their prey.

You thought he would have laid you down but to your surprise, he twisted you both around at the last second and sat down on the couch, legs spread wide. He removed his hand from between your legs and you were about to protest when you heard the deafening tear of fabric. You gasped and looked down to see Joel had torn your brand new fucking dress from the slit up, exposing half your stomach.

"What the f-" you were about to scold him and tell him how much you liked that goddamn dress when he grabbed you by the hips and yanked you forward so he could bury his face against your clothed pussy. Your eyes bugged out of your head and you grabbed his hair to keep you steady, your shaky legs no longer able to be trusted. And when he took a deep, steady breath in through his nose, your face flushed with heat while staining the red satin of your underwear even darker.

"You smell so fuckin' good," he groaned before taking another deep breath. "Bet you taste even better."

"Jesus Christ," you whimpered, your fingers getting tangled in his hair. "Please, Joel, please..."

"Sit on my lap," he demanded, tearing himself away and leaning back into the couch. He slapped the tops of his thighs and ushered you forward with his fingers.

On shaky legs, you obeyed, spreading them wide so you could rest them on either side of his thighs. He stretched up to latch his mouth onto the hollow part underneath your jaw while his fingers resumed their torturous pace over your center.

"You're right, these were made to be seen," he murmured against your throat. Your hips began to rock, encouraging him to keep going with each little sound from the back of your throat. "Got these just for me, huh? Wanted me to see 'em?"

"Yeah," you whined, arms circling around his neck and jaw falling open as he brought you closer and closer to your climax without still having actually touched you.

"What'd you want me to do, baby?" he asked softly. Your breath was growing shallow and the noises you were making were getting louder and he smirked, knowing you were close from just a few minutes of petting you through your clothes. If this is how responsive you were from just his fingers, he couldn't fucking wait to take you apart with his cock. "Tell me. Did'ya want me to bend you over the table?"

You nodded and gasped when his fingers began to move faster. "Everywhere. In the car. At the art gallery. In the fucking elevator... fuck, Joel!"

His cock swelled in his pants, the material already too unforgiving and tight, when you came shouting his name. A shudder ran through your body when you slumped forward to rest your head on his shoulder, but unfortunately he didn't give you the courtesy of recovery because in an instant, he hooked the material of your underwear to the side and two fingers slid right into your soaked cunt.

You weren't sure who groaned louder, you or Joel, but it felt like both of you were equally desperate.

"Oh, fuck," you whimpered, sweat dotting your forehead and upper lip from the welcome intrusion his fingers caused. You forced yourself to straighten back up so you could grab his face with both hands and slant your mouth eagerly over his. His tongue immediately invaded your mouth and his wrist began to snap between your legs, causing your mind to go numb as you focused solely on the pleasure he was giving you.

"Joel," you moaned in between biting at his lower lip. "I don't think I can come again."

"Yes, you fuckin' will," he said roughly. His free hand, which was clutching your hip, began to guide you up and down on his fingers. "You wanted me so bad and now you're tellin' me you can't come again? Gimme what I want and maybe I'll give you what you want."

You nodded dumbly and followed his lead, rolling your hips and then bouncing on his lap until you found what worked and you felt that familiar warmth building low in your stomach again.

"Keep going, just like that," you panted against his lips. He nodded, eyes so dark they looked black as he stared up at you. Your eyes were squeezed shut, too focused on chasing your high to see the way he was looking at you. It was probably for the best because he was fairly certain you would be able to see right through him in that moment and it scared the shit out of him.

"Oh, fuck, baby, that's it," he breathed, pulling you closer so he could hide his face against your throat. He could feel you tightening around his fingers and your nails were digging into his shoulders, the bite of pain sending shivers down his spine. Your moans grew more high pitched and your skin felt hot to the touch. He leaned forward on the couch and, circling his other arm around your waist, tugged you as close as possible while using the force from his entire body to thrust his fingers as deep as he could into your cunt, curling them inside you each time he retracted his hand.

"Oh, god, Joel," you whined breathlessly, stomach tensing the closer you came to your orgasm. "I think... I think I'm gonna-"

You cut yourself off with a shaky moan when you came for the second time, your entire body pulsing in his arms as your orgasm shot through you violently, taking every shred of energy you had left.

You murmured softly against his neck when he eventually dragged his fingers out of you. Your eye cracked open just in time to see him pop both fingers into his mouth and hum appreciatively to himself while still holding you close against his chest.

"You alright?" he asked before kissing the top of your head.

"You ruined my dress," you whispered sleepily. He chuckled, the vibrations from his chest melting into yours, making you smile.

"It's not funny. It was over a thousand dollars."

"Money well spent," he replied before tipping the back of his head against the couch with a deep sigh. He was still painfully hard but you were too weak and tired to do anything about it. He maneuvered you so your legs were no longer spread open on his lap, then hooked an arm underneath your knees. With his other arm around your shoulders, he stood with a groan and began to carry you down the hall.

Your own arms were still wrapped tightly around his neck and once he approached the bedrooms, you opened your eyes to see which room he would pick. It didn't surprise you when he turned into your room but you were too tired to really care.

"You oughta change outta this dress," he murmured as he laid you down in bed.

"Mhmm, I will," you promised, then smiled when he brushed your hair out of your eyes and kissed your forehead.

"Get some sleep," he said, and just as he was about to step back into the hall, you called out his name. He spun around, the sight of you spread out over your bed, all fucked out in a torn up dress giving him pause before he cleared his throat and responded.

"Yeah?"

"You better not fucking tip me this time."

You giggled when you saw the grin on his face and he shook his head in disbelief.

"'Night."

"Good night."

Once he left, you slipped out of the dress but you couldn't bring yourself to throw it out, so you zipped it back up in its bag and tucked it into the back of your closet before drifting off and feeling the calmest you ever felt.

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