#i mean. i always wanted to be a professional writer and used to write a lot of short stories and i still do want to publish a book someday

[jonny-b-meowborn]

Not to be a fucked up little freak but recently I started writing a short story in second person in future tense and it's about a lighthouse and her keeper

[pendarling]

What Ruins Romance Between Characters

Also keep in mind I’m not a professional writer. This is just a list of things I think absolutely destroys chemistry

Lack of Communication & Proximity: It should be a no-brainer that the two characters in love would also want to be together as much as possible. However, for some authors, what they don't do is just that. Automatically, these characters become more like strangers than people that are dating/married/pining for each other. If you want to build romance start with them actually talking and putting them in situations that demand them to work as partners.

No Show of Physical or Verbal Affection: Another no-brainer. How're you going to want your reader to love them if they don't show it? Even enemies-to-lovers will always figure out a way to make a scene more tense and filled with desire as long as your characters are giving us hints that they want something more than just what they currently are.

One-Sided Pining: Do not have one character doing all the romantic gestures! Readers will think the receiver of the affection is undeserving of their partner. I can assure you, nobody wants to see only one person doing all the heavy-lifting in the relationship. It's boring, sad, and will likely make readers want that character to leave the relationship asap.

Wildly Different Perspectives/Nothing in Common: You're bound for writing a breakup if this is the situation of your characters throughout the entirety of the story. Unless they slowly come to understand one another and meet in the middle, this romance will fail.

Arguing More Than Loving: If your characters are constantly arguing with no intentions to stop it, they are no longer compatible for each other. You are writing a toxic couple that hate one another and forcing them together is unlikely to make the average reader want to continue any further. I've seen some writers do an excellent job of a couple arguing but always trying to be better for their significant other. If you want them to argue solely because this is enemies-to-lovers, some time soon they're going to want to stop being an asshole to the person they like.

Better Romance With Other Characters: If Character A is supposed to be with Character B, but Character C is becoming the ideal, then I'm afraid to tell you the romance will not work between A and B. To avoid this, make them communicate less, have less in common, spend less time together and give more attention to Character B. Take away the roles that make Character C more compatible and give it to B. This doesn't mean you should completely change C, it just means you need to do everything you can to put the focus back on B, and if that's too much then consider ending whatever B and A have.

Too Slow/Fast to Fall in Love: Characters that take 20 seasons and 3 movies to confess is insanely slow. We are starving for the romance that was promised in the story, eventually readers will stop reading because that is not being satisfied. Pacing is incredibly important and you need to take into account the behaviours Character A will have with Character B. Also, don't make them instantly fall in love, I feel everyone in the writers and readers community know this very well. That's not how people work, you actually have to try to know each other first.

Only Together for Sexual Gratification: I don't even have to do a lot of speaking for this. Unless the characters become part of each other's lives outside of the bedroom then the chemistry does not exist.

Lack of Trust/Keeping Secrets: There has to be someone that knows their partner more than anyone else. Keeping secrets will show the readers that Character A does not love their partner enough to trust them with important information. It's fine if they're keeping a few secrets maybe-- major ones-- to protect Character B, but constantly lying and being unwilling to share is the beginning of what we call "falling out of love." Even worse is if Character A went ahead and shared their deepest insecurities with Character C.

Priority is Not The Significant Other/No Sacrifices: All relationships have done something that must be done in order to make the relationship work. If Character A will not give up something that they know upsets their partner/crush then they are not ready to be with someone. In order to love someone you must devote time and have interest in them. If your character chose some external desire over Character B, then this will not work. Their greatest desire should be Character B.

Unrealistic Standards & Expectations: We can't have characters choosing each other for surface-level wants to be satisfied. Readers will end up seeing characters changing their entire personality for their partner and their entire body to fit an image they were not made for. If your readers know Character B very well and it's that Character B would never turn away a friend for example, and suddenly they cut ties with all their friends because Character A doesn't like them, then I'm sorry but this is toxic. You can't change someone's characteristics in the middle of the story to help Character A.

No Conflict: What relationship is truly perfect? There will be arguments and setbacks that need to be explored. This is a fun way at having a deeper level of understanding on why your characters are having a conflict of interest. It's quite stale when everything is happy-go-lucky with no issues, you don't need to make them breakup or anything just a simple disagreement can show a ton for readers on the complexities of Character A and B as people who operate differently together.

Underdeveloped Character with No Goals: Some shows I've watched put time and effort in flushing out one character and completely forget about their life-long partner. Uhm, hello? What's going on?? If you write Character A with their entire lore and family tree or whatnot and then-- oh side note, they also really love Character B-- excuse me, who's Character B? Give us some sign that Character B is capable of thoughts and has dreams of their own. Do not make it revolve around Character A either.

Couple Do Not Interact with Anyone Aside From Each Other/No World Building: Similar to the point above, if these characters only know and see each other, you will lose readers. We are sick and tired of stories where the overarching story has been reduced to two people. If the story is about them, then introduce us to their lives outside of their partner. Can they operate as a functioning creature with thoughts without their partner? Do they have friends and family? Do they go to work and school? Are there fears they have? There's tons of material to choose from, pick anything.

Too Much Interference: Although it's fun to watch two characters do anything to get closer to each other it can become annoying when there's simply way too many characters and situations that separate them. We want all that hard work to be rewarded to Character A when they finally get what they want, Character B. Even a little bit of talking alone, being alone, finally away from the chaotic world is more than enough. Let your characters be alone.

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~~~ MASTERLIST

[flanaganfilm]

Good day Mr Flanagan. please what does "the rest is confetti" mean to you and in the context it was used in hill house??

Okay, here we go. Buckle up for a long read.

To answer this, I've got to explain a little bit about what was happening and where I was when I sat down to write episode 10 of The Haunting of Hill House.

Hill House was not a fun shoot. The picture above is from very early in production, when I was still chubby and happy.

It was my first foray into television. I was absolutely terrified that I'd mess it up. So I'd opted to direct all of the episodes myself, figuring that - if nothing else - I'd have no one else to blame if it went south.

It was the most grueling professional experience of my career. The shoot was by no means a smooth one, every day was an uphill battle from a budgetary perspective, and between the three giant production entities involved with the production, I spent a lot of time fighting over the creative and logistical elements of the series.

I began losing weight. I was smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.

By the end of the shoot, I had dropped almost 40 lbs.

I was very depressed. Every day was a battle, and for the first time in my career, I wasn't excited to go to work in the morning. We were fighting for basic resources, fighting for the show we wanted, and even fighting amongst ourselves by the end. It was grueling.

We hadn't written all of the scripts when we started production. I believe we had finished through episode 7, but the rest of the scripts had to be finished while we were already shooting.

We'd mapped everything out in the writers room, and I had great support on the other episodes, but I was writing the finale solo. I'd thought I'd be able to juggle it with everything else. I quickly fell behind.

I finally got to the script about halfway through production. I'd work on it between takes at the monitor, and then get home to our tiny rental house in Atlanta, where Kate was waiting with our baby son. (One of the rare bright spots of this shoot came when Kate found out she was pregnant about halfway through production. We even named our daughter Theodora, in honor of her origins.)

I'd typically fall down from exhaustion when I got home, but I had to push through it and work on the script. My weekends were spent shotlisting and prepping for upcoming episodes. We didn't have enough time to stay ahead of prep, so every available day was used for that... I went three months without a single day off at one point.

I'd sit up late staring at the script. I was in a dark, dark place. Overwhelmed, exhausted, and feeling like I lived in an eternal present. Each day bled into the next and it didn't feel like there was an end in sight. That feeling of unreality was heightened because we kept returning to the same sets, same locations, and even the same scenes throughout the 100 shooting-day production. Stepping back into the exact room we had shot in days or weeks or even months ago made the whole thing feel absolutely surreal. Making movies is always an non-linear experience, but this one felt particularly so... it was like the days of our lives were happening to us all out of order.

I remember feeling something like despair creeping into my daily experience on the show. And I remember dwelling on that when I got into the scene work of episode 10.

As I worked through the draft, I recall that despair coloring a lot of what was on the page. My filter was breaking down. There's a monologue at the beginning of the episode where Steven's wife Leigh (played by my dear friend Samantha Sloyan) spews out a torrent of eviscerating insults about Steve's value as a writer. That is just me vomiting onto myself. She was voicing all of my deepest insecurities about myself at the time, and of what I was doing with this series.

She says "Is anything real before you write it, Steve? The things you write about, they're real. Those people are real, their feelings are real, their pain is real - but not to you, is it. Not until you chew it up, digest it, and shit it out onto a piece of paper and even then, it's a pale imitation at best."

This was the mindset I was in for a lot of the shoot. The writing became a reflection of a lot of that turmoil, and I knew who I was referring to in that monologue - I was talking about my family. I was talking about how much of their lives I'd used as building material for this show. I was talking about the fact that I'd lost two loved ones to suicide, and seen what it had done to my mother in particular. And I knew I was using - possibly even exploiting - those people for this series.

There's a lot of despair in this episode. The Red Room, as we conceived it, was a place that would feed upon those emotions. Grief, sadness, loss... those were the real ghosts of our series, and where our characters find themselves at the start of the finale. They're being slowly digested - eaten alive - by those feelings.

So finally, it came time to write Nell's final scene with her siblings. I knew from the outline we'd constructed in the writers room what this was supposed to accomplish - she was supposed to be their salvation. She was supposed to take all of these feelings that we'd been wrestling with and finally provide catharsis... finally say something that would free everyone.

I remember sitting with a blinking cursor for a long time. The Crain siblings had just turned and seen Nellie standing by the door, and suddenly were able to hear her speak. But what should she say? What would I say? What would I want someone to say to me?

What she ultimately says lays bare a lot of what I was thinking about when it comes to grief. It exists outside of linear time, much as I felt I existed at the time. That sense of eternal present, that sense of a nonlinear eternity of moments and memories - it all came out in her speech to her brothers and sisters.

I remember feeling, looking at my insane present and looking back at my past, how strangely overwhelmed I was by memories. That I wasn't experiencing time in a straight line, and hadn't been for a while - for the better part of a year, I'd felt more like I was standing in a whirlwind of moments. "Our moments fall around us like..." Nell said, and I recall sitting back and trying to find the words.

"Rain," for certain, but there was something too uniform about that. The moments of life as I experienced them weren't that orderly, they weren't that small. They didn't fall the same way. Some sailed by, fast and unremarkable, while others lingered in front of me, twisting and stretching. So it was a good word, but not the right word. I left it on the page though.

"Snow" was my next attempt. Better, in that I imagined the snow blowing in the wind, swirling and dancing and feeling more organic. More chaotic. More like life. But for some reason, the word that stuck with me, the word I felt Nell Crain would connect with was...

"Confetti."

And that was because I was thinking not of Victoria Pedretti at this point, but of Violet McGraw.

Violet played Young Nell, and I wondered what she might have said if she experienced time this way. As an adult, Nell was despairing. Nell was overwhelmed. But as a child... there was an innocence to the word. There was a joy to the word.

I imagined moments falling around her, this little girl with the big smile and the wide eyes. Her moments would be colorful. They would be of different shapes and sizes, some falling fast and some falling slow, flipping and turning and dancing in the air, independent of the others. Sparkling, whirling, doing lazy summersaults as they sauntered down to Earth.

I thought of myself, and of the members of my family. I thought of those we'd lost. I realized what I hoped for them, and for us all, in the end... was to look upon that mosaic of experience, that avalanche of days and minutes and moments... and to smile with some of the joy we had as children.

And this, I thought, was something that gave me hope. This gave me a glimpse of some kind of salvation for them. This was also how I hoped my life might seem if I was a ghost - a cascade of color and light and shape and movement, something I could dance in.

So Nell smiled and said... "or confetti."

It stuck with me. The rest of her monologue gets heavy again, and gets to the real point of the show - the point of the whole series, if I'm honest - and that's forgiveness.

I figured the only thing that would let the Crain children out of the Red Room was to be forgiven. I thought of the losses in my own family, and I thought of what I wished for my mother and for my aunts and uncles and cousins and I tried to pour that into her final words.

"I loved you completely, and you loved me the same," she said, "that's all." And this was the point I wanted the most to make. That at the end of our life, if we can say this about each other, the rest doesn't matter. The rest is that rainstorm, or that blizzard, that fell around this one central truth, and maybe built itself in piles around it, to the point we lost sight of it along the way.

And I thought again of that little girl, and almost as an afterthought, wrote "The rest is confetti."

I liked the way it sounded, but I was insecure about the line. I almost took it out, in fact. I remember asking Kate to read the scene and talking about that last line with her. "Is it too cute?" I wondered. She was on the fence. "Depends on how it's acted," she said, and I figured she was right. We could always take it out if it didn't work. The scene could end with "I loved you completely, and you loved me the same. That's all."

Why not shoot it and see what happened.

I turned in the script, we published it quickly so that we could start breaking it down and prepping it. And the next morning I was back on set. I'd deal with episode 10 when it came down the pipe again, sometime in the coming months. We had a lot of shooting to get through before I had to worry about it.

I recall Netflix asking me to cut a lot of that monologue, and I remember them also having questions about the "confetti" line. I pointed out that it didn't cost us any extra to shoot it all, it was only words, and fought to keep the script intact.

Ultimately, they insisted I make a series of cuts on the page. I begrudgingly agreed, but left Nell's speech alone. I made superficial cuts around it, throughout the draft, and even considered changing the font size to fool them into thinking it had gotten shorter (I ultimately was told I wouldn't fool anyone and not to risk starting a war). But Nellie's final goodbye stayed intact.

It must be said - Victoria Pedretti SLAUGHTERED this scene.

By the time we got around to filming it, things had never been worse for the production. There was almost nothing left for a lot of us. Tensions were sky-high, resources had been exhausted completely, and we were all ready to give up.

Filming in the mold-ridden Red Room was depressing, morose, and led to a lot of arguments and unpleasantness. The room itself just felt gross, always, and we were in there for days at a time. The last thing we had to shoot in there was Nellie's goodbye.

Victoria came to set having to push through pages of monologue, and she did so with captivating bravado. I recall being teary-eyed at the monitor watching her work. And when we finally made it to the last line, I watched her deliver it with... a smile. A sincere, innocent, longing, joyful smile. A smile informed by the sadness, grief, and loss of her own situation, of her own life... but a smile that finds forgiveness and grace after all. Pedretti knew how to say the line, and how that word would work.

And as she said it, I knew it would stay in the show.

Over the years, that sentence has become something of a tagline for The Haunting of Hill House. I'm always a bit mystified and touched when I see people approach me with the line on T-shirts, or even tattooed on their bodies.

I started signing it with autographs back in 2020 after enough fans asked me to. Now it's my go-to when I sign anything related to Hill House.

The line, for me, represents a lot of things.

It's about the insane, chaotic, non-linear experience of making that show. It's about trying to find and hold onto joy, even in the grips of despair.

It's about the way the moments of our lives aren't linear, not really, and how we may be unable to understand them as we exist in their flurry. It's about finding hope, innocence and forgiveness in the final reckoning.

And it's about how, outside of our love for each other, the rest is just... well, it's fleeting. It's colorful. It's overwhelming. It's blinding. It's dancing. And, if we look at it right, it's beautiful. But it's also light. It's tinsel. It flits and dances and falls and fades, it's as light as air.

The rest is the stuff that falls around us, and flits away into nothing.

It's the love that stays.

[stay-somnia]

Virgin Chan! hard thots

Everyones likes to think Chan must have had a girlfriend or at least hook ups but I raise you Virgin! Chan. 

-Virgin!Chan who’s never had the chance to go on a date; sacrificing his youth and recklessness for the sake of his group

-Virgin!Chan who avoids his crushes at all cost; locking himself up in the studio until his mind goes blank 

-Virgin!Chan who’s so busy he doesn't time or space to jack off; so sleep deprived having wet dreams is a blue moon blessing

-Virgin!Chan who can't look women in the eyes outside of professional conduct let alone give her his number

-Virgin!Chan who’s content at working until he passes out if that means the boys can live their lives the way they want to

-And then there’s Yang Jeongin

-The Maknae, who’s been coddled and spoiled rotten by his hardworking hyungs

-Poor Innocent baby bread who rejects any attempts at flirtation…or so it seems.

-Our little bread boy has a secret, he used to be quite the whore

-Dating girl after girl, making and breaking any heart he chose… until he met you

-his pretty little girlfriend

-Jeongin would do anything for you

-Sugar Daddy in the streets and a beast in the sheets Yang Jeongin didn’t learn nothing from his teen days

- He would give you the world; it just so happens that you are his world.

-You might be the apple of his eye but he's not the only one fixated on you…

-Virgin!Chan who has a panic attack when he realizes he has a crush on you... their maknae’s pretty little girlfriend 

-Virgin!Chan who scurries off whenever you come by wearing those short skirts that drive him and your boyfriend absolutely insane

-Virgin!Chan who starts whimpering your name in his sleep always drenched in sweat and shame 

-Virgin!Chan who starts squirming when you get within five feet of him

-Yang Jeongin is not blind or stupid

-Anyone can see how his Hyung goes wild over you

-That tent in Chan’s pants whenever you say his name might as well be a neon sign

-Its so cute how his leader drools for you; a desperate puppy at his master's feet

-Jeongin owes Chan (they all do)

-where would any of them be without their leaders' hard work and sacrifice

-He really should pay his Hyung back... and what better way to do that than helping his poor overworked hyung de-stress a bit… 

-Virgin!Chan who’s stomach drops when Jeongin comes forward with a little proposition

-Virgin!Chan who cant breath when you tell him that you're okay with it... that you want it.

-Virgin!Chan who's gasps when he sees you in Jeongins arms wearing nothing but one of his !Chan's! hoodies..

-Virgin!Chan who stays motionless when Jeongin beckons him over

-Virgin!Chan who thinks he's died when the realization that he’s allowed to touch you finally sinks in

-Yang Jeongin who grabs his Hyung's hands to guide them to your most sensitive bits

-Yang Jeongin who puppeteers a trembling Chan into giving you sweet release

-Yang Jeongin who swells with pride when you cry out for him

-Yang Jeongin who gently pushes his Hyung aside to show him how its done

-Virgin Chan who creams his pants watching Jeongin wrench orgasm after orgasm from you

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

This is probably really shitty quality, I'm sorry. Any writers out there feel free run wild with this Drabble? hard thought?

if I get my shit together maybe I'll write a one shot of this.

[lvis44]

Sweet Escape - Wedding Pt. 2 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Language, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Anxiety

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

Notes: The second part of our wedding... I was reading my doc and figured this part was solid enough to be put into the universe lol. More to come but, once again, I do not know the timeline. I hope this holds you guys enjoy and this holds you over in the meantime! *insert Lil Wayne - Sorry 4 The Wait - here*. I've said it a million times and I will say it a million more, I cannot get my brain to stay in one tense while writing so ignore it the best you can lol. I LOVE YOU GUYS!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Epilogue - The Wedding Pt.1

You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the dark ceiling when you hear your phone start to vibrate on the side table, causing you to groan. Just because your nerves are keeping you awake doesn’t mean you want to talk to anyone. When you see his name flash across your screen your first reaction is to laugh at his insistence but quickly anxiety washes over you. Every possible thing that could be wrong flashing through your mind as you answer his call.

“Lew?” You croak out, your voice dry in your throat.

“Hey. Shit, I didn’t wake you did I? Just needed to hear your voice and this can’t possibly count as me seeing you before the wedding.” He’s quiet on the other end, probably trying not to wake Miles in the other room.

“No, can’t sleep.” You admit. You’ve thought a few times throughout the night that you should have given in and let him hold you tonight, knowing you more than likely already would have fallen asleep.

“Neither can I, my nerves are going crazy.” He sounds vulnerable and you can’t help but worry.

“Not backing out on me, are you?” You attempt to joke, even though the anxiety is real.

“What? No, baby, never.” He laughs at the absurdity of your question, making you feel that much better, “No, I’m just stressing over the whole thing. Thinking maybe we should have just run away and eloped.”

“We still can.” You giggle, knowing he’s joking but understanding the feeling.

He joins you in your laughter before falling silent. You know he’s too deep in his own thoughts so you let him settle on what he wants to say.

“I’m just worried something will go wrong like the catering will be shit or the decorations won’t be right. I don’t know, I just need it to be perfect for you. Perfect for us.” He finally shares, his voice is tired.

“Lew, the only thing that could possibly ruin tomorrow is if for some reason we legally can’t get married. Even if we end up in a courthouse, I’m ending the day as your wife. Everything else is just an excuse for us to throw a kick ass party.” You try your best to assure him.

His laugh comes through the phone before he lets out a sigh, “You’re right, nothing else matters. This is why I’m marrying you ya’ know.”

“Why? Because I would have said yes even if you proposed with a ring pop?” You tease him, your smile spreading across your face.

“Well that,” He laughs, “but also because with two sentences from you, I’ve felt calmer than I’ve felt since the second I got here to the hotel. You always manage to make everything seem okay and truth be told as long as I have you, it is.”

His words hit you deep, knowing how much he means them.

“You know you’re supposed to save the vows for later, right?” You joke, trying not to choke up, knowing if you’re too sincere with him right now you will end up in tears.

“I love you Y/N.” He says simply, aware you're trying not to get too emotional.

“I love you Lewis. You wanna stay on the phone?” It’s something you’ve done many times while he’s been away and the distance has gotten to be too much. You barely talk, just content in the sound of each other's breathing and the rustle of the others sheets.

“If you don’t mind?” He sounds nervous again, like he feels like he’s asking too much of you.

“Always. Good night Lew, I love you.” You say quietly, settling back into your bed.

“I love you baby.”

You don’t say another word, both falling asleep quickly after your chat. The comfort of each other being all you needed to truly relax.

* * *

Charlotte's soft voice ringing through the room is the first thing you hear as you try to adjust to being awake. The second you start to come into yourself, the nerves come flooding in.

“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” Charlotte is laughing as you sit up in bed. Your phone is still sitting on top of the comforter next to you, the call now having ended. You can only assume Lewis is already awake and getting ready or his phone died. You can’t help but smile at the memory of your conversation last night, both of you needing a moment of solace within the other.

“What?” You ask groggily, attempting to wipe the sleep from your eyes.

“Well, to start I said Good Morning Ms. Soon to be Hamilton,” She started, her voice much too loud before realizing and quieting right down, “then I told you that hair and makeup are on their way to the venue and the car will be here in about an hour.”

You raised your eyebrows at her as she sat down on the bed.

“I know, I should have woken you up earlier but I heard you talking in here at almost three in the morning, I assume with Lewis, and I wanted you to get some sleep,” She explains softly, putting her hand up to stop you as you go to respond, “there’s a light breakfast here if you want some, but you have plenty of time to shower and grab some food. If you don’t eat now, I’ve already scheduled some food for you at the venue that you can eat while they're doing your hair before you get your makeup done.”

You let out a sigh, thankful that she has thought ahead, you go to thank her but she starts again.

“I’ve already confirmed with four different people at the venue that your dress is there, hair and makeup has a place to set up, your room is on the other side of the building from Lewis so you won’t run into him, and all of the decorations have arrived and are being set up. The only thing you have to do today is let us take care of you, know that Miles and I have everything under control, and get married!” She finishes her spiel with a smirk, knowing that everything she just covered were concerns running through your mind, always proving even further why she was your Maid of Honor.

“Thank you, you are an absolute angel.” You say as you grab her hand.

“I do have to ask, just being nosy,” She starts, laughing gently, “was it Lewis on the phone last night?”

You feel yourself blushing unnecessarily, there being no reason to be embarrassed for talking to the man you are about to marry.

“Yeah, neither of us could sleep, just needed to talk to each other for a second.” You say sheepishly.

“And that right there is why you two are getting married today baby!” She says enthusiastically, once again much louder than you would prefer for the time of day.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” You tell her as you push yourself out of bed, feeling your stomach growl, “food will be there for me?”

She laughs at your need to double check before nodding, “Yes there will, I heard that, you need some food.”

“Leave me alone.” You grumble, laughing softly to yourself too as you stumble to the bathroom.

“You’ve got an hour, let me know if you need anything.” You hear her yell as she makes her way out of your bedroom to let you shower in peace.

It feels like you’ve entered an alternate universe once you are out of the shower. You ended up taking longer than anticipated and were being rushed to get dressed before ushered downstairs and into the back of another town car. Charlotte had a small bag packed for you and said she would take care of your luggage that was still in the room after the wedding, keeping the suite for the bridal party to stay in after the event. 

Your jaw almost dropped when the car finally pulled into the venue. You had been there before, a few times actually, over the last two summer breaks with Lewis, trying to finally decide. But now… now it was snowing, a winter wonderland surrounding the manor that had been deemed a castle by almost everyone around you and you couldn’t help but agree. A castle had been a dream of yours as a kid but never something you found realistic as an adult, safe to say realistic wasn’t in Lewis’ vocabulary when it came to your wedding. You had been watching Downton Abbey for the third time one night and made an offhand joke to Lewis about how you should get married at Highclere Castle, from then on he had made it his mission to find something that fit the bill. His first thought had been the castle itself but it hadn’t been an option, instead he found a place just outside of London that you had never heard of, something your wedding planner had never even seen, it was perfect. It was large and regal but still fit with both of your styles, allowing it to be decorated with a fine line of modernity and tradition. 

When you pulled up to the front door it looked as though you had stepped into a movie, the snow painting the perfect backdrop despite your hesitance. You hadn’t been sure about a winter wedding but Lewis was impatient and winter was his favorite season. He had done so much of what you had dreamed of that you couldn’t help but agree, knowing it didn’t matter when or where you got married, as long as it ended with him.

Charlotte was quickly ushering you and your mother inside and out of the cold. The entrance was bustling with people moving flower arrangements, chairs, tables, everything you had asked for being set up right in front of your eyes. Charlotte was pulling you down the hallway to your left before you had a chance to even take it all in.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m rushing around but you can relax the second we get you into the bridal suite. I promise.” She was apologizing from in front of you while you tried to keep up with her brisk pace, your mom close behind you.

“Are we late?” You couldn’t help but ask, feeling nervous all over again.

“No , we��re perfectly on time, but the damn men are early and I will be damned if Lewis wins and sees you before you’re at the altar.” Her voice is serious and you can’t help but laugh out loud. It truly isn’t that big of a deal to you but the moment you mentioned it being part of the plan Charlotte and Miles made it their top priority for the day of the wedding.

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” You continue to laugh at Charlotte as she slows down once you’ve reached the doors of the suite. Secretly you wouldn’t mind a quick hello, or even just a glimpse at his beautiful face, but she was determined.

“It’s part of the plan therefore we will be sticking to it, everything will be exactly how you want it today.” Her voice is stern before she opens the door to the suite and welcomes you in.

You’re immediately welcomed by the crew you had hired to take care of everyones hair and makeup. You had spent a while choosing the perfect team and had been in touch with them frequently over the last few months and the familiar faces made you excited. Charlotte tells you to take a seat on the plush couch off to the side and makes her way over to talk with the crew, making sure everything is taken care of for you. Your mom comes to join you on the couch, mimosas in hand with a shocked look on her face, acting as if she doesn’t know where they came from. You giggle as you happily take one from her hand while someone sets food on the small table in front of you, immediately reminding you of how hungry you were back at the hotel.

“You should have something to eat, even if it’s just a nibble. You have some time before you need to start getting ready.” Your mom tells you softly, gesturing towards the spread sitting in front of you.

You nod, leaning forward to grab a pastry as you watch Charlotte in amusement, animated as ever while she gets everyone and everything organized. You take a moment to sit in silence, well as silent as it can be with people bustling about, letting yourself take it all in. You continue to eat as much as you feel you can keep down before someone is suggesting you get in your robe. When you come back from the changing room there are many more people in the room, everyone finally arrived and ready to get ready. You had decided to keep the wedding parties small on both sides. You had Charlotte as your maid of honor, your cousin who had become a sister to you over the years, and your childhood best friend. Miles was Lewis’ best man, Nicolas, and Daniel. Your mom was getting ready with you as well as Linda, Carmen and Lewis’ sisters.

As you sat in the chair watching your hair transform, joking and laughing with your stylist Javier, you took in the sight around you through the mirror. Both families and friends blending into one big happy group, laughing together and sharing mimosas. You were thrilled at the thought of everyone becoming one large family, beyond excited for the next chapter of your life.

“Ladies! I need to say something before everyone starts with their makeup,” Charlottes voice commanded the room getting everyone's attention, “thank you! Okay, I just need to start by saying Y/N, I love you so much and I am so beyond thrilled that you are marrying my second best friend,” she sends you a wink as you both laugh with Lewis not even in the room to defend his decade long friendship, “he is like a brother to me and you very quickly became my little sister. That being said, I want to stress to every one that today is supposed to be perfect and WE are going to make sure it is,” her words are firm as she gestures around the room to your bridesmaids, “these two mean the absolute world to me and after everything it took to get them to this point I will not settle for ‘okay’, we’re looking for perfection.”

“Char, it’s-” You try to stop her, feeling like she’s making far too big a deal out of your day.

“Nope, Y/N, let me say this, you deserve it.” She shushes you before continuing, “I want everyone to have an absolute blast but most importantly I NEED Y/N and Lewis to have the best day of their lives. Annoying guest? Figure it out. Issue with the rings? Find me or Miles. Trouble with your dress? Suck it up, today isn’t about us.” Her voice is that of a strict teacher as she lectures your family and friends and you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh before the comment about the rings latches on to your brain, “Y/N, babe, I love you so much and I am so happy for you. You are marrying the best human I know, well second to you of course, and I cannot wait to see the life that you two create together, I know it will be magical. Cheers everybody!”

You barely even register the sweet words she directs at you as she finishes her speech, your body working on auto pilot to raise you mimosa for her toast. The moment she sees the look on your face she’s rushing over to you.

“Hon, what’s wrong? You look worried.”

“What’s wrong with the rings? They’re here, right? They look correct? Nothing’s broken? You said there’s a problem with the rings, what's the problem?” You rush out your new concerns, not taking a moment to think once she’s in front of you.

“What? No, no, everything’s fine. Why would there be a problem with the rings?” She asks you confused for a moment before the realization dawns on her face, “Oh sweetie that was just an example, everything is totally fine. It’s exactly like we talked about, I have your band and Miles has Lewis’, I even texted him when we got here to make sure he had it. Do you want to see yours? I have it in my bag, I can go grab it.” Her words of reassurance are rushed as she tries to calm the new anxiety fluttering through your mind.

“No, oh my god, sorry, I just…” You shake your head, wanting to laugh at yourself for becoming so panicked so quickly, “I think my brain just blacked out after I heard ‘issue with the rings’, I don’t know why I let that freak me out so much.”

“It’s okay, you have a lot going on and this is a big deal, don’t worry about it, it’s what I’m here for.” Charlotte calms you, rubbing your forearm as she squats in front of your chair.

“Alright beautiful bride! Ready to make that gorgeous face even better?” Javier’s voice comes excitedly from behind you, rubbing your shoulders as he tries to coax you to turn around so he can start on your makeup.

You take a deep breath, the reality of the day settling into the pit of your stomach, before turning around, ready to be transformed. You’ve had him do this look on you numerous times, wanting to make sure it was exactly what you wanted and you trust his skills, but still the underlying anxiety refuses to leave you. You had opted for a more natural look, similar to what you would do on the day to day but elevated, you wanted to look like yourself, like the you that Lewis fell in love with. As you sat in the chair being pampered, listening to people bustle around behind you, a billion new scary thoughts and anxieties swarmed through your head.

You know you’re making the right choice, there is no one in the universe better made for you than Lewis and no one who you could love or love you more than him. You know everything is taken care of and planned to your liking, but you didn’t place each flower or taste every dish prepared today. You know all of the most important people in your life RSVP’d yes, but you haven’t laid eyes on them today, you don’t know if they’ve arrived on time. Every single detail that has been a stress in the back of your mind for the last year has now become the only thing you can think about. You’re trying so hard to let them slip to the background, to stay in the moment, enjoy the laughter of your bridal party and the random chatter from Javier, but it doesn’t work.

Your mom is the first to notice, seeing you with a furrowed brow and your eyes shut tight as Javier steps away to grab something.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She asks quietly, her hand resting on your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze.

The sound of her voice almost brings you to tears and you can’t quite explain why. You look at her through the mirror, noticing the deep concern on her face.

“Everyone wants it to be so perfect, what if it isn’t? I asked everyone to travel so far and what if it lets them down. The Hamilton wedding is supposed to be THE event, what if it’s not right or something goes wrong or it isn’t what people were expecting?” You ramble so quietly you’re worried she won’t be able to hear you.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” She says through a pout, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and meeting you cheek to cheek, “not an ounce of what you just said matters, I know you’re nervous but don’t stress yourself. Today is supposed to be one of the best days of your life, not because of how fancy it is or what caterer you hired, but because you are marrying a man that will love you, protect you, and take care of you for the rest of your life. I know that it feels like it’s all about the party and the flair, but today you are taking a step for you and Lewis and that is all that matters, you are building your life with an amazing man who would move mountains for you and that is all that matters. All you have to worry about is making it to the end of the aisle, saying I Do, and kissing your husband. We’re all just lucky that we get to witness it.”

“Fuck,” you breathe out with a dry laugh, “you’re right. It’s just so much.”

“Just keep reminding yourself that that beautiful man is going to be legally yours till death do you part.” She laughs before kissing your cheek, lightening your mood as you picture his perfect face. While her words do ease your nerves a new very important thought pops into your head, a new non-negotiable.

“Charlotte.” You call out urgently, aware of your time crunch.

“I’m here, what do you need?” She asks quickly, rushing to your side like a lady in wait.

“Lewis,” You start, watching as her eyebrows shoot up in a disapproving look, “no I know, I won’t look at him or let him look at me, I just need to squeeze his hand and hear his voice, I promise.”

She still doesn’t look quite convinced as you plead with her, “Y/N, no seeing Lewis was a very hard rule from day one of wedding planning. Are you sure?”

“Char, please, figure out a way so I don’t see him, we’ll stick to the rules but he’s been there to calm me down and make sure I’m okay for every major thing in my life for a more than half a decade and I don’t know about you but I’d say this is a pretty major thing! It won’t be any worse than me talking to him last night, I swear.” You plead with her, grabbing her hands, suddenly very set on needing to at least speak to Lewis before walking down the aisle.

“Okay, okay, yes, I will make it happen, but before you get into your dress, just in case, gimme a sec.” She agrees as her face softens, seeing your desperation, realizing that she too would need Lewis for a moment before something this big. He may be your lover, your fiance, the man you are about to spend the rest of your life with, but at the core he is your best friend, the man that has been there for you since you showed up at game night years ago, your other half.

Charlotte quickly leaves the room after squeezing your hand and telling Javier he can start working again. You assume she’s headed to find Miles, or she’s gone straight to Lewis. You start to get anxious yet again that you may be causing Lewis anxiety, you should have told her to tell him that you’re fine and just being selfish, remembering the moment of fear you had last night when he had called you.

You’re not sure how long it takes her but once your makeup is finished she has returned and is requesting for you to follow her. You feel silly walking out of the suite with pinned hair and your robe on but all you can think about is talking to Lewis, eager to hear his voice as if you’ve just started dating. Charlotte ushers you down a hallway to an empty room with a door on the other side. You’re far enough away from everyone that the noise has quieted and you can subsequently feel your brain calming down, realizing just how overstimulated you’ve been for the last few hours. Charlotte guides you to the far wall of the room, next to the door frame, turning you to back up against it before gently knocking on the door. It takes only a second for the door to open, Miles’ smiling face appearing next to you.

“Well hello beauty, you look fucking incredible.” He says before leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“It’s not fair that I don’t get to see her.” You hear your fiance whine from the other side of the wall, making you giggle and your cheeks warm.

“All in due time brother, you’re the lucky one though, you get to see her at the altar.” Miles says teasingly, leaning back through the door to look at Lewis before coming back to you, “So I have your fiance here as requested. Char and I will give you guys some privacy.”

“Thank you Miles, I’m sorry if this is a pain, I just needed a minute.” You tell him, reaching out to squeeze his arm.

Before he can respond, Miles is bursting out into a laugh, “Love, this was a help on my end, mans has been so annoyed that he hasn’t been allowed to see you all day, he hasn’t shut up about you once. Enjoy, you evidently both need it.” He says as his laughter begins to die down, sending a disapproving look into the room behind you where you assume Lewis is giving him the same back. “You guys have five minutes, and absolutely no peeking.”

“We won’t.” You and Lewis both promise in unison, making both of you giggle as Charlotte and Miles walk away to another room to give you your privacy.

“I mean it!” Miles turns around to yell, still walking backwards as he points his finger at you, “ I will know just by the look on bruvs face if he caught a glimpse of you, don’t you dare.”

“We’ll be good, I promise. Thank you guys!” You yell back at him as they disappear through a nearby door.

“Hey you.” You hear Lewis’ soft voice after a moment, your heart swelling just upon hearing the recognizable timbre.

“Hi.” You squeak, forgetting everything you had wanted to say when you asked Charlotte to make this happen.

“Are you okay?” He asks you, his voice filled with concern and care.

“Yes, oh my god yes,” You start, your anxiety of concerning him coming back tenfold, “I’m so sorry, I just, I don’t know, I was getting really anxious and then I realized that I haven’t had a big moment in life without you either being right there or calling me for like more than five years and then I got worried that I wouldn’t make it through something like this without talking to you first, which is silly because I know I’m literally preparing myself to marry you, like I’m going to see you at the altar in like an hour but I don’t know, my mom said all this stuff about how amazing you are trying to calm my nerves and then I realized I absolutely had to at least talk to you and I’m sorry if you were busy, I’m not trying to be needy, you just calm me and this day is so much and there's so much going on and it has to be perfect and-” Your words are rushed, not thinking them through as you ramble to him, not stopping to even take a breath.

“Y/N,” Lewis cuts you off, his voice firm but gentle, “it’s okay, please take a breath.”

You drop your head, almost embarrassed by how calm he sounds with the emotions swirling around in your head at the moment. You listen to his request and take a deep breath, trying to calm your breathing and your mind.

“Good, now another.” He instructs you calmly as you feel his hand sneak around the door frame and brush your hip.

The moment you see his skin you reach down and grasp his hand firmly, needing him to ground you as you take yet another deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you squeeze his hand, trying to breathe like he wants you to.

“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for,” He starts softly, squeezing your hand just as firmly, “I know this whole thing is a lot and there’s so much going on, but none of that is important. I don’t give a fuck how anything goes as long as I get to end the night married to you, that’s all that matters today,” His voice is soft as he assures you, washing over you like a warm blanket before it turns cheeky as he adds, “well I also want to see you in that dress and obviously whatever you have underneath it.”

You want to laugh and cry at the same time, amused by how easily a stupid (yet serious) comment could lift your spirits, simply because it came from him. Amazed that the same sentiment that has been spoken to you by everyone around you with no avail, could take a burden off your chest simply because they came from his mouth.

“I love you so much Lew.” You reply, squeezing his hand so hard you’re worried you’ll hurt him, trying to fight back tears as you do.

“I love you so much my sweet girl and I will tell you just how much when you meet me at the altar. You’ve changed my life, you’ve made me a better man, a better human, you’ve made me happier than I knew was even possible and I want nothing more than to marry you today. I don’t care how that happens, if you want to run away right now and head to vegas we can, at the end of the day I just want you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and nothing matters besides us. This whole castle could burn down right now and as long as I still had you I truly would not care. I love you so much and today is going to be incredible no matter what happens, but I bet you nothing will go wrong because we planned it and we’re pretty amazing.” He sealed his words with a kiss to the back of your hand, chuckling as he finished. His lips on your skin gave you a whole new sense of confidence and ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach.

You wished so badly that you could see him, that you could properly kiss him, but you reminded yourself that you were close to the finish line, that he would be all yours soon.

“I love you too, so so much, thank you for this, I’m sorry if I interrupted, I just needed to hear your voice and be close to you.” You admit to him with a sigh as you lean back against the wall.

“You’re never an interruption, whenever you need me I’m here, always. Besides, Miles wasn’t lying, I’ve been going crazy since we left the rehearsal dinner wanting to see you, touch you, kiss you, talk to you, literally anything. I know we’ve gone weeks apart from each other but everything feels different right now.” He tells you, making you smile, that you're not completely alone in your desperation. You take a moment, leaning against the wall in silence as you hold his hand, letting your nerves wash away.

“Alright, love birds! Time to go get fancy and hit the altar!” Miles’ voice cuts through your moment as he hollers and claps, returning to the room.

You let out a sigh, wishing your moment with Lewis could continue but reluctantly begin to move away from the wall. Before you can get too far, he is gripping your hand and pulling you back to place a kiss on your hand before leaving a lingering kiss on your pulse point.

“I love you Y/N, just come meet me at the altar. Nothing else matters.” His words are muttered into the skin of your wrist before he finally lets you go and Charlotte is ushering you away back to your suite as Miles stands guard making sure Lewis doesn’t cheat and sneak a peek at you.

“Feeling better?” Char asks as you make your way down the hall.

“So much better, I feel perfect.” You say through a smile, meaning it wholeheartedly, “ I’M GETTING MARRIED!”

[incognit0slut]

You got me lookin through my music like a mad man! But I wanted to send in a request and say congrats on 3k!!🥳 the song I was hoping to get was “Girls Need Love” by Summer Walker, I was thinkin along the lines of BAU reader just been stressedddd and she just needs to relax and simply let Spencer be a munch🤭

Regardless if you do the request or not, you are an amazing writer and all your works SLAY! Thank you for writing for us!🫶🏾

thank you for the request lovely🤍

Song: girls need love - Summer walker warnings: cunnilingus, semi-public

“…submission, domination, arched back, deep stroke…”

You had never been this stressed before. You could sense the weight of deadlines pressing down on you, the tension mounting with each passing moment, especially when you started to feel that dull ache behind your eyes. You winced at the pain, instinctively reaching up to rub at your temples.

"Hey," a worried voice called beside you. "You okay?"

The concerned voice cut through the haze of your stressed thoughts, and you turned to see Spencer—your coworker, friend, and teammate—walking up to you. Although outside the confines of the office, he was more than just a professional ally. He was your sweet, caring boyfriend who always had a way of observing you even when you both were busy with your assignments.

A small, involuntary smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his concerned gaze. "Hi," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of fatigue. "Just a bit of a headache."

His expression remained skeptical, and he placed a hand on your shoulder. "You sure? You don't look so good."

"It's just work stress, you know how it is." Then your eyes settled on the documents stacked on your desk. "Why is it more stressful doing all these paperworks than actually catching the bad guys?"

He studied you for a moment. As your boyfriend, he had a keen awareness of the subtle shifts in your mood, even amidst the chaos of work. "Let me guess," he said with a frown. "You've been at it for hours."

A sheepish smile played on your lips. "Guilty as charged."

He shook his head disapprovingly but remained silent. The hand on your shoulder pressed your tensed muscle gently and you relaxed into his touch, sighing out a relief. "That... that feels good."

He continued to massage you, his fingers gliding up your shoulder blades. You relished the pressure of his hand on you and you let out another sigh, but this time, it sounded more breathless than you intended to.

You didn't mean to. Maybe it was the way his big hand moved gracefully along your shoulders, kneading into your sore muscles with the right amount of pressure. Maybe it was the way his fingers gently eased out those tough knots twisted on your back, relieving your throbbing headache. Whatever it was, it managed to make you sigh in a satisfaction; a soft, breathless moan slipping out between your parted lips.

It was quiet for a moment between you as the noise hung in the air, your face suddenly going a bright red as you realized how inappropriate it sounded. You shouldn't be making bedroom noises at your workplace with your boyfriend's hands on you, even if the touch was innocent. You quickly shook your head.

"Sorry, I—"

"You know what else would make you feel good?" He suddenly asked. "Make you feel better?"

Your breath hitched as you stared at him, noticing the way he was looking down at you. You knew that look. It was all too familiar. It was the same expression he had whenever you were pressed against him, very much naked, all sweaty and desperate as you begged for him to please you.

"Spence," you pressed, eyes going around the room. Thankfully everyone seemed to be too busy to notice the subtle innuendo. "We're at work."

You felt his thumb gently graze the exposed skin of your neck. "Come on," he muttered, his voice loud enough for you to hear but low enough not to gain attention from others. "You need a break."

Your skin prickled at the weight of his stare. Heat quickly traveled along your body as he assessed you, and you instinctively squeezed your thighs together, feeling that familiar coil between your legs. It was so wrong, and highly inappropriate to even imagine doing something intimate in public, but it was hard to ignore the waves of desire washing over you.

That was how you found yourself nodding your head involuntarily as if you were under a spell.

"Meet me at that unused room down the hallway. Third door to your right," he said, nodding his head toward the secluded area away from the bullpen. "You know where that is, right?"

You silently nodded again and watched as he stepped back, turned on his heel, and disappeared out of the room. Adrenaline rushed into your system as you waited for another five minutes before rising from your seat, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 

You casually greeted people as you passed by. You even weaved yourself from a frantic Penelope trying to find her glasses, escaped from Hotch who wanted to know how your report was going, and freed yourself from Rossi who suggested another cookout at his place this weekend.

You quickened your steps when you finally stepped into the hallway, your eyes piercing on a specific door. You looked around to check if the coast was clear before pushing it, taking a hesitant step forward—only for an arm to circle your waist, pulling you inside as you heard the door clicking softly behind you.

"Spence, we shouldn't—"

"Shh," he whispered. "Let me help you relax."

You looked up at him looming over you. In a haze of uncertainty, you found yourself drawn in by the glimmer in his eyes, the reassuring smile on his lips, and the unwavering focus of his gaze. The familiar scent of his soap enveloped you, pulling you closer to him. Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath, close enough to lose yourself in the depth of his gaze. And then, almost like an instinct, your lips finally met his.

As you tasted him, you felt your worries start to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his hands gripping your waist. He held you in place as he explored your mouth with his tongue, and you melted right in his arms, giving everything he asked for.

A whimper escaped your lips as his kisses descended from your mouth, tracing a path along your jaw until they rested against the delicate skin of your neck.

Your body froze for a while. There was a split-second realization of the risk of being caught, but it was swiftly drowned out by the overwhelming ache of desire coursing through your body. Fingers trembling, you tightened your grip on him, and your heart quickened its pace.

"Come here," he urged you, grabbing you by the hand before placing you at the center of the room. Your senses finally came together as your eyes scanned the place. An empty, unoccupied room with nothing but empty boxes and a worn-out desk shoved against the wall. You focused your attention back to him when you felt his fingers move over your pants, sliding them down your legs along with your panties.

"I can't believe we're doing this," you murmured, your mind turning hazy when you felt the cold air hit your skin. "Did you lock the door?"

A low chuckle escaped him. "Yes," he assured you before pressing his lips on yours again. "Now stop thinking so much."

His hands grabbed onto your waist before he lifted you, placing you on the desk almost forcefully, earning a squeal from you.

"Slow down!" You half whispered, half screamed.

"Can't," he began, fingers gripping your thighs. "I can't leave my girlfriend all stressed out."

The fear of getting caught still weighed on your mind, but with your throbbing pussy dripping in anticipation, the worries diminished faster than they could build. You clutched onto his shoulders when you felt him pushing your legs apart. 

“Spread your legs, baby.” His deep, needy voice sent a surge of warmth straight between your thighs. An ache settled in your core, feeling his lips back on your body once again for a moment between words. “Let me taste you.”

Another surge of heat made you tremble from the dark desire in his voice. You finally caved in, following his instructions with an eager whimper. You part your thighs, putting your dripping cunt on display for him as he gently laid you across the desk. 

His eyes couldn’t help but rest on the sight before him, taking note of your swollen, aroused lips and how wet you already were. It didn't take long for him to sink on his knees, settling between the warmth between your legs.

The minute his tongue touched you, you were already a whining mess. Your head began to spin, pleasure taking over your body as he teased up and down your slit, dipping inside of your dripping entrance for a moment before returning to tease your swollen, aching clit. 

His hands wrapped around your thighs while his tongue continued to explore you. You bucked your hips closer to him, your hands frantically searching for something to anchor yourself before you buried them in his thick hair. When he sucked onto your clit hungrily, you tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.

The sensation filled your body until you were whimpering for more. “Please...”

The urgency in your tone mixed with the breathless way you begged him earned a hand between your thighs, positioning a finger at your entrance. Then he slowly pushed his finger, sending your head tilting back with a gasp, legs tightening around him. You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words as he pushed another finger into you, and you tugged on his hair with desperation.

Spencer smiled across your wet skin. He loved the way you reacted to his touch. He loved the taste of you, your juices against his tongue, painting his skin with your pleasure. He loved getting to finally please you. He loved hearing the sinful sound you make, the breathless moans coming out of your lips caused by him.

He loved the way your legs shook around his head, your hips bucking closer towards his mouth as you sought for more. He also loved how tight you held the strands of his hair between your fingers.

He loved it all, making it clear as his tongue sped up, circling your clit even faster as he thrust his two fingers deeper inside your soaked, clenched walls. 

“Please,” you cried out. "I-I'm so close."

All he could do was groan against your flesh. With a few more thrusts of his fingers and a few more laps around your clit, you were finally reaching your high, feeling the warmth form between your legs.

Your back arched off the desk while you gripped his hair even tighter. You called out his name, again and again between desperate moans and whimpers, legs tightening around his head as you rode out the bliss until the wave of pleasure washed over you, causing you to grow weak. 

But he didn’t pull away, continuing to gather up every drop of your slick essence, overwhelming you further as he curled his fingers deeper inside you. You wailed, moaning him to stop as he kept on pushing your limits.

His touches persisted until the sensations became almost overwhelmingly intense, leaving you far too sensitive for any further stimulation. You were out of breath. Your body felt weak. You also felt a heady mixture of euphoria and exhaustion as you gently pushed him away. 

You gasped, slowly breathing in and out as you finally peeked over at him, noticing him standing at his full height as he wiped away the remnants of your orgasm on his mouth. 

“Do you feel better now?” He chuckled in a hushed tone, leaning forward to pull into a sitting position. All you could do was grin happily and nod your head. 

"Yeah," you admitted with a soft laugh. "Thanks to you."

But as you got off the desk, attempting to stand on weak legs, you stumbled forward, and his hand shot up instinctively to steady you. You let out a groan. "I might not have a migraine anymore but apparently you lost my ability to walk."

His eyes sparkled with amusement. "Do you want me to carry you?"

"And create a commotion?" You considered the suggestion with a mock-serious expression. "I think I'll pass."

But as you both came back into the bullpen, your face flushed and his hair sticking out in different directions, it was inevitable that a commotion would take place. Especially when Morgan watched the two of you with clear amusement while Emily wrinkled her nose, assessing you both with judgmental eyes. "This place needs to be sterilized now."

You feigned innocence, rushing back to your desk as heat crept up your face, hoping your unit chief wouldn't hear anything about your reckless rendezvous.

*

a/n: I don't think I'll be tagging people in these answers unless it's a longer fic like my usual one-shots.

[sarahreesbrennan]

Quick Evil Note

To all my wicked darlings, I have now received rather a lot of messages asking me about the influences of Long Live Evil. And I wish to get messages about LLE and truly appreciate the ones I do get! And I wish to answer them. But answers about influences are tricky.

The book has been out in the US for a little over two weeks, and it’s going so well so far, I couldn’t be more delighted and appreciative about its reception.

But also I’ve been informed (not asked) that two of my characters are obviously somehow both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy of Harry Potter, and Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji of Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation. (Very puzzling as I don’t think these pairings - and one isn’t a pair - have much in common with each other or with mine. Vague hostility against a vaguely academic backdrop for a bit? For the record… in the book everyone is an adult and I don’t even have any academic backdrops to be vaguely hostile in front of…) This hasn’t happened to me in a long time, because I haven’t had an original novel out in a long time due to illness, and it is upsetting to always be discussed differently than writers who didn’t openly link their real names to their fan identity.

I have very different feelings and new appreciation for fandom than I once had. It’s been amazing to see and meet people who have stuck with me for decades. People are generally way more open and affectionate to and within fandom than they once were. Love matters to me a good deal more than hate. But getting death threats in your early 20s for excitedly telling your Internet friends you were going to publish a book does mark the psyche, and so does having your characters dismissed as other people’s characters.

And we can say there is nothing wrong with fanfiction or writing fanfiction and there isn’t! Fanfiction is great and can be genius. Terry Pratchett wrote Jane Austen fanfiction, and didn’t (and shouldn’t) have people saying Captain Wentworth = Captain Vimes. Still, when a TV show is discussed as ‘like fanfiction’ or when Diana Gabaldon said she didn’t like fanfiction and many said ‘YOU write fanfiction’ it isn’t intended in any kind spirit, even when it’s fannish folk saying it. And it’s just generally odd to have everyone call your apple a tomato, and has had professional consequences for me in the past.

However! All the asks I’ve received have been very kind, and I do want to answer them. I do want to talk about my influences because they are manifold and because I actually think it’s important to always talk about influences. I don’t believe stories exist in isolation - we tell tales in a rich tradition, and also a story doesn’t come alive to me all the way until it’s heard or read.

Long Live Evil is a love letter to fandom: it’s chock full of references to many many stories I’ve loved, to fairytales, myths and legend and Internet memes and epic fantasy and meta. My acknowledgements are endless partly for this reason. I do owe a great debt to many portal fantasies and archetypes and musicals and jokes about genre and plays through the ages, though I do think of my characters as themselves and nobody else.

I was frankly tempted to go ‘Yes I stole EVERYTHING! Bwhahaha!’ But while I am thoroughly enjoying and finding great freedom in my villain era, I do want to talk sincerely to you all as well, especially when asked sincerely interested questions.

But I’m a little scared to do so and have people say ‘AHA! Now we know what it’s fanfiction of’ (it’s happened before) or ignore me and go ‘we know the truth!’ (it’s happened before) and to feel like I’ve injured my book. Long Live Evil means more to me than any other and I really want to get talking about it right, and make sure it has the best reception I can give it.

So. Questions on all Evil topics very very welcome but answers to influence questions may come slowly. Bear with me. I am working on this!

[will80sbyers]

What makes you believe that byler is real? I ship Mileven personally, but I'm trying to understand byler shippers' logic, because a lot of the time it feels like it makes no sense.

I personally think there are some scenes in the show and there are some choices that the writers made that are telling us that the plot of the show is going towards Will getting a "pay off", in terms of writing, at the end of the show and Mike and El finding out they are better as friends instead and Mike discovering he has romantic feelings for Will!

The writers have emphasized Will's sadness in relation to Mike and El as a couple both thematically and visually, in the writing & filming of the show there are too many scenes like this especially in season 3 and 4 they have made it clear that he will never be happy if Mike and El are the endgame relationship, even during Mike's love monologue after he supposedly decided that he was ok with El having his own feelings for Mike by saying that the painting was a thoughtful gift from El when it wasn't... They put a shot of Will's sad face in the middle of the monologue, and also he was framed behind Mike when he said "I love you" which in film is a EXTREMELY weird choice unless it means something more is going on that should make us not want El and Mike's relationship to work - the writers have been sabotaging the emotional connection of the fans with mileven by doing this and I don't think that professional filmmakers don't know that, I think it's on purpose!

The writers have shown Mike and Will as having a deeper relationship than all the other relationships Mike has, putting him in the same category of El as one of his possible love interests in the plot, they have multiple scenes bonding in a tender way than Mike has with any other of his friends, they happen in private usually or in emotionally charged moments that they film to make you as a viewer feel like they are in private and show how they have this connection that's more than just friendship

The writers have wrote in the show since season 1 MANY parallels between Mike and Will and other official couples (Mileven too!!!) that are, in my opinion, hinting at them ending up together at the end of the show

You can find the parallels here

The writers have continously shown El and Mike to have some kind of problem in their relationship and made El decide to leave Mike behind multiple times even if to save his life because she loves him, the writers have been showing us how Mike is not her PLOT priority and instead they have put having a romantic relationship with Mike as Will's deepest desire since season 3

The writers are building up El's character to have a coming of age that has recurrent themes of her finding herself without the influence of others around her, her becoming completely free from any kind of influence, and Mike has been represented as having too many internal fears to overcome at the moment about their relationship, especially with the love monologue at the end of season 4, he has beliefs about himself as a person that clash with El's character arc about not having to feel influenced in any way, the end of the show for El should be her having complete freedom in all aspects of her life because of the circumstances of her upbringing... Not saying that Mike is influencing her in a bad way necessarily, I think they both love each other a lot but having a relationship with someone that is that much insecure about his role in your life because you have powers will always be a type of influence

The writers have shown Mike and El as not being a team at the same level by separating them constantly after s1, instead they have shown the other couples that work as working together in the supernatural plot (Jancy, Jopper, Lumax, Byler)

The writers have paralleled Mike and El's relationship to all the ships that are not working for some reasons/are not endgame and have more infatuation than a real "true love" kind of relationship (Steve x Nancy, Karen X Ted, Bob x Joyce)

The writers have wrote in multiple scenes of Mike acting awkward with Will (Mike!!! Not Will) or them having coded conversations about how much they care for each other that have no sense to exist unless there is a pay off at the end

The writers have presented El, Mike and Will as being in a love triangle and have been framing them in a love triangle composition in the framing of multiple scenes, with Mike at the centre

When during season 4 the writers talked about all the movies that have inspired season 4 and 5 they have put multiple movies with love triangles that are almost identical to the situation between Mike, El and Will

Will and Mike have multiple fight scenes that are scenes you give to two possible love interests usually, the way the fight happen is written as two lovers having emotional fights instead of as how you would write two friends fighting

The writers wrote in the show a precise parallel in all the scenes of Vickie and Robin... between them and Will and Mike, paralleling Mike to Vickie specifically... who is a canon bisexual character and even paralleling Steve and Jonathan in that context as observers of the couples!

The directors filmed their scenes how you would film romantic scenes in stuff like Bridgerton or a romcom lol

The whole painting scene was Will making Mike feel so loved that he felt comfortable being vulnerable with El, but this means he was still not comfortable on his own relationship with her, he didn't feel safe enough to open up on his own and needed that talk and needed to believe all of those ideas about him being the heart came from Eleven so that he made the jump and told her how he felt instead of being selfishly silent on it because he was too afraid of her possibly leaving him one day... When you are really deeply in love with someone in the context of movies the characters don't let those type of fears influence them and if what gives him courage is the feelings of another character in the love triangle it means he's the right person for the character

( idk if you saw gossip girl but the was a love triangle situation between Blair, Dan and another character where Dan made Blair believe the other character felt some type of way towards her, she understood that she loved Dan because of this act because she wanted those words to be from him and not from the other guy... The whole painting lie is that same trope)

The writers are obsessed with IT from Stephen King and there are clear parallels with it in the show, the whole plot of s4 about the painting is a reprise of the plot between the romantic relationship of Bev and Ben in IT (with the postcard and the poem) Beverly is supposed to be Mike, Ben is Will and Bill is El.... Mike and El share a kiss at the end of season 3 that is supposed to parallel a kiss between Bill and Bev (they did love each other and liked each other but are not endgame)

Both Will and Mike are queercoded multiple times during the seasons

There are WAYYYY more reasons but this post is becoming too long so I'll leave it as this lol

You should rewatch the show and imagine if Will was a girl, I think many people would be seeing what I'm talking about way more and take it as a sign that Mike is going to choose "Willow" and see how Will is the better love interest for him...

Maybe it's all just queerbaiting, who knows, but at the moment I believe this is way too much for it to be queerbait!

I personally think Mike is bisexual

Masterpost about it here

and has feelings for both of them, but his feelings for El have always been a "puppy love" type that is growing to become more platonic than romantic with time, and I think he's a best match with Will, I think Will is able to make him be the best he can be, he's capable of making Mike feel worthy in a very natural way unlike the relationship with El does at the moment!

In my fixed post in the blog you can find all these things in more detail if you're interested!!

Thank you if you read all of this, regardless of what I believe I think everybody should be free to ship what ship they like best!! 😊

[writingquestionsanswered]

Copyright, Trademark, What They Do (and Don't Do)

Anonymous asked: I'm writing a comic script but I'm a slow writer/artist, so it won't be ready to post for quite a few years. Is there any way I can submit a list of character and place names and have them copyrighted/trademarked so no one else can use them besides me? I'm not talking generic names like "Thomas Bird" or "Blue Mountains." I mean very specific, unique names that I've personally created. There are a lot of names/places in my story that I’m extremely happy with, and I’m really worried someone else is will write a story before me with these names and then I won’t be able to use them, even though I’m the one that came up with them first.

[Ask edited for length]

Quick disclaimer: I'm not a copyright attorney, trademarking attorney, or any other kind of legal professional or representative. This advice comes from knowledge and experience gained in my many years as a writer and author.

Copyright, in the simplest of terms, means no one but you can copy, distribute, or profit from your work without your permission. It protects your work from plagiarism--someone else using your ideas in the exact same way you did and passing it off as their own-- but it does not protect the use of individual names, titles, fictional places, or ideas, none of which can be copyrighted.

Trademark, in the simplest of terms, protects symbols, words, or phrases that identify and distinguish your brand or business and the products or services associated with them. In order to trademark a symbol, word, or phrase, you would need to prove that consumers do (or would) strongly associate the symbol, word, character, or phrase with your brand/product/services, and that there would be confusion among consumers if this symbol, word, character, or phrase appeared in association with some other brand/product/service. So, we are talking symbols like the Nike logo, words like Kleenex, character names like Bugs Bunny or Spider-Man, and phrases like "Finger Lickin' Good," not your unusually named characters or fictional places.

The best way you can protect your unique character names and places prior to publishing is to make sure you don't share them widely, and share them only with people you trust.

Just because you have an idea now doesn't mean you're the one that came up with an idea first. For example, if someone publishes a comic next year with a same character name, they may have come up with that character name twenty years ago for all you know.

Either way, it's very unlikely someone would beat you to publication and have more than one unique character name or place in common with your comic, and even if they do have one character that has the same unique name, that doesn't mean you can't use it. Again, character names can't be copyrighted. As long as your character doesn't appear to be the same character with minor changes, you're fine. I really, really wouldn't worry about it, though.

One final note of advice... one of the hardest things about being a writer, which you must adjust to if you want to succeed, is understanding that your ideas aren't as special and unique as you think they are. I don't mean that to be mean, but it's a hard truth. You will see "your ideas" everywhere you look, because people will come up with the same ideas you do, and sometimes that means coming up with a similar unique name or location. But what matters is how you use those ideas, and how that differs from how they used them. That's what makes your stories unique. Not your ideas, names, places, etc. themselves, but how you use them. ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[lurkingshan]

A list of sins in the Wandee Goodday finale

Yak finally confessed that he is still having hallucinations when he steps into the ring—and Dee did NOT tell him to bow out of the fight.

Dee magically cured Yak’s years long trauma ringside and there were zero consequences for Yak lying and hiding his mental health struggles for the entire show.

Yak gave a big speech about Dee believing in him more than he believed in himself—which is not the actual story we got on our screens. Cool fanwank of your own show, though, I guess!

The show began with telling us that Yak could not be out with a man because of the effect of homophobia on his career, and now he’s doing love confessions in the ring and this is apparently fine. Add it to the list of GMMTV shows trying to have it both ways with the bubble.

They only gave us Kao’s love story via a retrospective exposition dump and an awkwardly shoehorned in asexuality PSA. They could have actually written him a plot and showed us these themes, but I guess that was too much to ask.

The money problems magically went away by Yak winning one fight, and there was no fallout for Yei hiding things from Cher.

Ter and Taem were paired up as expected—A POX ON YOUR HOUSES WRITING TEAM. Everyone who caught the signs that they intended to redeem Ter was correct; I have no idea why they chose to have him harass and assault Dee when this was their intention the entire time. Pairing him with a character who survived a different assault makes it so much worse. Just another sign of the poor judgment behind this show.

Yak’s graduation becomes a background detail handled with a two second appearance in a montage.

And instead we spend time on a very strange PSA telling us that old people have sex, too? How this is relevant to anything I could not tell you.

Continuing their bad dynamic from the entire story, Dee pretends he’s not going to thank Yak in his little beauty pageant speech (that he’s giving for receiving a professional scholarship, for some reason). Contra the writers of this show, I don’t actually think it’s funny that Yak feels so insecure and Dee is always fucking with him.

DEE SANG A GODDAMN SONG. WHY?!? This show has just gotten so embarrassing.

Dee finally asks Yak to be his “real” boyfriend, but it has no meaning because he already has been for weeks. And they already did the big public kiss moment in episode 11! It’s like they wanted the tension of not letting them get together until the end but were not willing to sacrifice the weekly ship moments so they tried to have it both ways. It just did not work. Tell a good story or make a branded pair content vehicle removed from story, you can’t do both.

They made Yei and Cher’s wedding kiss so weird by having Yak and Dee do it first whyyyyyyyyyyy

Welp! At least I got to see Oyei and Cher get married; I’ll be hanging onto that one.

This one goes down as the show that finally pushed me over the edge re: GMMTV and their tendency to start strong before completely losing the plot. I was primed to love this show and it thoroughly let me down. None of the threads they set up at the start were followed through and virtually nothing that happened in this story had real consequences or meaningfully mattered. What an absolute waste of a fantastic cast and a solid and fun premise. I will be skipping most GMMTV dramas going forward unless I hear they hold up all the way through.

[ohcorny]

hey corny. so i always see people recommending to outline their story before starting it, but could you talk a little bit more about what that means? what is an outline and how do you structure one? how long are the ones you write, depending on the project? do you focus on plot beats or feelings? how specific do you get? can u recommend any readings for learning more?

up front i don't have any resources for this, only experience. and outlines feel like one of those things where it's like... there are a million ways to do it and the way that works for me might not work for you. i have a friend who writes out all his ideas on index cards and that, for me, is insane. but he's also a better writer than me so who can say what is right or wrong.

anyway an outline is essentially a sketch but for a story. you go through the whole thing, start to finish, and figure out what goes where and what happens when. the idea is that this is the stage where you work out all the big picture stuff and make sure it all fits together, now, and not after you've drawn twenty pages and suddenly go "wait shit that doesn't work" and have to do it over. it is much easier to delete and rewrite a paragraph than to redraw several pages.

doing anything more, ie including dialogue or feelings, depends entirely on how useful that information is to you at that point in the process and whether the purpose of the outline is for your own guidance, or so somebody else can tell what you're trying to achieve.

this got really long with multiple examples

here is an excerpt from the original outline i used to pitch Hunger's Bite to publishers. this one had to be polished to a professional standard, because somebody else was going to read it and decide whether they wanted to give me thousands of dollars to tell this story. (also several of the details are no longer accurate. for instance it now takes place 9 years earlier lmao)

this paragraph represents the first eight pages of the book. the final book is 264 pages long, and the outline was 12 pages of paragraphs as dense as this one.

it establishes where we are, who's there, and what they're doing. i describe their conversation, but i don't commit to the dialogue. i will occasionally include snippets of literal dialogue, but usually only if it's Important Dialogue, or i just don't want to forget a good idea i had while outlining. it's not expected at this step.

an outline written as part of a pitch to a publisher should tell the whole story, with all the important details, and leave nothing ambiguous. they need to know the tone, shape, and the arcs. no secrets! all the spoilers. outlines for yourself should do this too, but outlines for others need to be as clear about your vision as possible. again, an outline like this exists for the purpose of getting you paid thousands of dollars. you should write it like that.

in comparison, here's an excerpt from the outline i wrote for revisions to my WIP prose novel, so i could show it to my agent (who already read the draft) to be like "do these changes sound good?" i'm not selling it to anyone yet, just making a guide so i can have a conversation about it. so it doesn't need to be neat, it just needs to be functional and clear. the first chapter was entirely new stuff. the second bit was just writing down what was already in the chapter that existed.

i have historically been very bad at outlining things when i don't think i "need" to, and only wrote this one after having written like 60k words of the book without any overall plan. i gave what i had to my agent for feedback and then sat down and figured out how i could apply it. it's made the whole revisions process significantly less daunting. now i have a checklist for things i need to do! this one was a paragraph or two for each chapter, with the ones that needed a lot of rewriting given a bit more detail.

lastly, here's a bit of the outline for the first roger crenshaw book. i was the only person who had to see this, and since the story was planned to be very short i didn't have to worry about a whole lot. as long as i knew what was supposed to go where, it would work. honestly it's not a whole lot different from the previous example.

this one was like five paragraphs and it did the job, and this story was like 15k words. you only need as much or as little as will actually help you on the page.

basically if you take nothing else from this, it's that there are multiple ways to write an outline, that it does not need to be perfect if you're doing it for yourself, and that it only needs what you think is important (unless it is for other people. then it should have everything). and also it's a good idea to do it earlier in the project than after you've written 60k words or drawn--jesus christ i got up to 12 chapters in never satisfied? it's amazing i didn't quit sooner

[wordstome]

the very first night (ntwdt pt 2)

tell me that you hate it hate that i'm no longer in your reach if i can't hear you say it maybe you can't change it, but if you never if you never put it on the line how am i gonna sign for it?

alpha colonel König x beta ex-lover reader

2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, reader's callsign is Eden, reader speaks French, omegaverse, exes to lovers, fraternization, fantasy version of military protocol, probable incorrect use of "copy"

2.2k words

tw: mentions of dead bodies and vague violence, dirty talk, könig is in rut but no actual sex happens, mention of grinding

Do you guys still even remember this au??? 😅 I'm back to writing this fic with this specific format just like the last time I had bad writer's block. I'm sorry that I basically made you guys take a poll and then immediately disregarded the results :( metalhead König is going to be the next one published, and then kosovo maiden. Anyway, this is less of a foray into the omegaverse as it is into exploring a married couple's dynamic. Forgive me if it's inaccurate, I've never been married. (Several of the people who will probably read this are married so...I might be really embarrassing myself here lol)

“Two on your six, O’Conor.”

König watches as his colleague takes down his pursuants with practiced ease. “Good to have someone watching over me, Eden.” the man roughs into his comms.

“It was my pleasure, Declan.”

“Can you two keep the flirting off the main comms?” Fender huffs. König hears O’Conor snort before the line goes quiet.

“Steady,” Horangi says next to him.

“What?” König says.

“You’re breathing like an angry bull. It’s unnerving.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s obvious you’re mad O’Conor’s flirting with your ex-wife.”

“She’s not—“ König lets out a sigh of defeat and tips his head away from the scope. “She can do whatever she wants. I’m not her keeper.”

“Right, which is why you’re white-knuckling your rifle and giving off the most furious pheromones I've ever felt."

König gives his friend a deadly side eye. “Can I help you?”

“Nah. Just confirming what I already know”, Horangi answers, unbearably smug.

König rolls his eyes and returns to the task at hand.

The two of you avoid each other, mostly.

When you’re forced to interact, it's with stiff professionalism. Cold and distant. The way it was when it was really, really bad.

You spend your time becoming closer to the other operators. O'Conor, for one, is someone you find yourself growing close to. In your line of work, it's usually not a good idea to get too attached to someone who may not see the next day, but it's part of your job to know these people now.

They're so competent that you can ignore the obvious, anyway.

König's always been competent, but watching him work nowadays is strange, like watching a remake of a nostalgic childhood film.

His movements are the same. He flicks his wrist the same way, with a heartbeat's worth of pause before the movement. Him taking cover, leaning with that awful posture you always got on his case about.

But everything about him is more ruthless, more efficient. The unrefined brutality of his youth is replaced with a honed precision that is foreign to you.

It stings, though you know the feeling has no right to exist.

You can't keep yourself from reminiscing about the past, when everything about him was familiar. When you knew him so well, it was enough to save both your lives.

"We've lost comms with König."

Your heart drops into your throat. You've been on several ops with him at this point, but this has never happened before.

"What do you mean you've lost comms?"

"He's not responding."

"What?" Fear grips your heart at everything that implies.

"He's in your building, Eden. Find him and extract. Copy."

You move slowly, like ice is flowing through your veins. "Copy."

You will yourself to calm down. Lost communications doesn't mean anything but lost communications. Panicking that you're going to encounter his body will only ensure you end up as a corpse as well. Besides, who could ever take down a man like that, tall like a giant and quick like a viper as he is?

If you had lost comms, what would you do? Re-establish them, of course. Pick your way out of the building and do everything in your power to reconnect with your team. From where König entered, he'd be exiting the building on the east side. You turn to head that way, then hesitate.

König's not you, though. He's not like any other member of the team. Proud, arrogant, vicious König, far more so than other alphas. You used to be afraid of him while he was at work, but eventually you came to realize that was simply how he was in his element—a different persona he wore to battle. As much as you wished he would be sensible and take the safe route, König would never take the safe route. He'd be carrying on the mission on his own, moving towards the target at the center of the building.

But he's a professional. No matter how good he is at what he does, he's not a one-man army, and he knows the right thing to do would be to extract. It's a gamble. If you head towards the east exit and he's not there, you could be losing precious time to find him. But if you head towards the center, you could be walking right into a fight you can't win and become overwhelmed.

You let out a shaky breath and attempt to calm your mind. What would he do? What is he thinking? If you make the wrong call, if you don't know your lover as well as you think you do, one of you won't be walking out of here. You close your eyes and think.

You open them with newfound determination and turn towards the center of the building.

You'd been right, of course, judging by the fallen enemies you find as you move through the hallways. But you don't allow yourself to feel sure until the moment you lay eyes on him, securing the target—a hard drive containing sensitive information.

"König!" you hiss, just as he whips towards you, gun drawn. He relaxes when he sees it's only you. Despite the fraught situation you're in, you can't help yourself from dashing towards him and burying your face into his chest in a hug.

"Eden," he says, his relief evident.

"You stupid motherfucker," you hiss. "You should have extracted the moment your comms cut out."

His eyes crinkle up behind his mask the way they always do when he smiles. "You knew I wouldn't."

"Yes, because I am burdened with being one of the few people on this earth who knows you like the back of my hand. Atlas holding up the sky," you grumble.

"I know you're relieved to see me," he responds, joy evident in his tone.

You let out a sigh. "Can we just get out of here?"

"Aye-aye, captain."

You could do without those memories, you think whenever the two of you trade clipped exchanges during ops now.

König still has traces of the arrogance of his youth, but it shows through less now. He's wiser, more patient and far less reckless.

You catch yourself admiring how good of a leader he's become. His connection with his teammates is like muscles flexing a hand.

You're no longer a part of that nervous system.

In fact, he's always catching you off guard now.

The energy in the common area is weird today.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. It’s like everyone’s walking on eggshells, but at the same time, nobody’s mood seems to be that affected. It’s like you’re all mice living in someone’s walls: going about business as usual, but with some looming threat casting a pall over everything.

“Is it just me or does the energy on base feel off today?” you ask Calisto.

“Oh. Yeah, that. Don’t worry about it,” she says. She swings open the refrigerator and pulls out coffee creamer. “No need for concern. König’s in rut.”

You do a double take. “He is?”

“Yeah.” She’s casual about it as she dumps cream and sugar into her coffee. “Usually he has a pretty light rut—he just gets testy and irritated. But for some reason this time is bad.” She offers you the cream, but you shake your head. “Don’t know what’s up with him, but he had to barricade himself in his room. His scent is driving people up the wall.”

You stare at the table in front of you. It can’t be a coincidence that König’s rut gets worse as soon as you’re near him again, can it?

When you look up, Horangi is staring at you from across the room. Slowly, he raises his mug to his lips, never once taking his eyes off of you.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

Calisto was right. The scent is overwhelming, but it's also familiar. You can't blame the others for avoiding the area. If you'd never dealt with him in this state before, you'd be hightailing it out of there too. Which is why you're doing this despite...everything.

You hover outside his door, trying to gather yourself, or work up the nerve to knock, or anything. It doesn’t matter in the end, though.

“I can smell you, liebling,” comes his voice, deep and growling and verging on feral. A shiver runs up your spine. You haven’t been called that in a long, long time.

“I only came here to bring you things. Water and…snacks.” you stammer, instantly hating yourself for how weak you sound.

“All these years later…and you still smell the same.” He blows right past your feeble little excuse, not even dignifying it with a response.

“I’m just here to check on you,” you murmur.

“Is that so.” You gasp as you hear a loud thud against the door from the other side. Oh God, it’s him, his body heat almost burning through the wood, pressed so close that you can hear his heaving breaths. “How kind of you.”

“It’s the least I can do, considering…”

“Considering it’s your fault I’m like this in the first place?”

Your legs feel weak. “Yes.”

His voice is silky, dangerous despite the barely restrained lust behind it. “Good girl.”

“That’s not fair,” you whisper.

“That’s a shame. You used to like it when I called you that. Still do, according to my nose.”

You wish he wasn’t right, but he is. You’re so slick that you’re soaking your underwear.

“Do you want the water or not?”

“Are you going to come with it?”

“I—”

“Because I promise you, if you’re still standing there when I open this door, you will get fucked against it.” He sounds like a savage animal snapping his jaws in hunger, and fuck, your body feels hot and weak in response. Every cell in your body is screaming out for you to throw open that door and let him fuck you limp. If you told him to break down the door, you’re sure that he would.

“You can’t say that anymore,” you whisper, hating the words as they leave you.

That seems to bring König back to rationality. You can picture him now on the other side of the door, shoulders slumping as he withdraws back into himself. "I...I'm sorry."

You slide down to sit on the ground with your back to the door, gripping a water bottle in a clenched fist. "It's like no time has passed at all, huh?"

You hear him let out a shaky breath, clearly trying to collect himself and bite back words he can't say. "Yeah."

That's the thing, isn't it? Your biology and his got the two of you into this situation in the first place. Very little of that has changed. Even though you've grown distanced in your minds, your bodies haven't forgotten the connection.

You're still struggling with how to feel about that. So much of your life has been dictated by what your body needs and wants. You've spent just as much time bucking against those needs and wants, so much that it feels like second nature.

"All of this...it takes me back. Do you remember the first night I spent with you during a rut?" you say. For a while you don't think he's heard you, but then he responds.

"How could I forget? It's my most embarrassing memory."

"Still?"

"I swore I would never let something like that happen again."

You giggle a little. "It was cute, for what it's worth." That first time, you'd come prepared with water and food, just like you had tonight, prepared for a long night full of...strenuous exercise. Instead, König had gotten so overwhelmed at his first rut with a partner that he came by just grinding on your leg and immediately fell into a 12-hour sleep.

"Yeah, you've said that. Doesn't make me cringe any less."

"And I'll say it again, it wasn't as bad as you think it is." You idly trace the cap of the water bottle with a fingertip. "There's no shame between us."

Another long pause before he responds. "Was."

A dull, throbbing pain nestles itself below your sternum.

"It...doesn't have to be past tense," you put forth tentatively.

"Doesn't it? We've gone right back to being strangers. You're still on the other side of the door."

You bite your lip. You can't deny that, nor the distance that's grown between the two of you.

This is all happening too fast. You don't know if you want to close the gap. You don't know if you're ready to make amends, after what happened.

"You're in no condition to have this conversation," you say, to distract both him and yourself.

"Conversation with you is hard to come by nowadays."

"Well...let's change that. Starting when your rut's over. Let's try talking like normal people again." This time, you don't know if you can blame your stupid biology for the relief you feel saying that. Maybe this time it's nothing but you and your treacherous heart.

You hear a thump against the door, but not an aggressive one. More like he's leaned his head against it. "I guess we have to start somewhere."

More silence. Then he speaks again, his voice tremulous.

"Can you stay? It's easier when you're here."

You swallow, your mouth gone dry like a desert. You can barely manage your next two words. "Of course."

The rest of the night is quiet, but you know he's there. At one point, you can even hear his steady, even breathing. Somewhere along the way, you notice that your breathing has synced with his.

The two of you fall asleep like that, propped up next to each other with a single layer of wood between you.

I miss you like it was the very first night...

I only revised this once while exhausted out of my fucking mind at 3am, so forgive me if anything's awkward or clunky. I'll probably go through it again in the morning (and die of cringe). But there we go! I hope you guys enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts and comments <3

Regarding my tag lists: I've had to leave out a few people, so if you see your url missing from this, please let me know and I'll add you back. Also, apologies if you're here despite not asking to be tagged for this particular story. I haven't gotten around to sorting out fic-specific taglists yet 🥲

@kneelingshadowsalome @danibee33 @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @cookiepie111 @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @hexqueensupreme @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @deaddainish @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria @complexivelovely @black-moon-bunny @kit-williams @shebibtedmypepnis @mafer383

[bebx]

random don’ts in fanfic writing!

a disclaimer that these are just some suggestions from a fellow fic writer & you don’t have to agree with everything I list here. the intention of this isn’t to shame anyone but to only offer advices I personally take.

I hope you’ll find at least one of these useful.

don’t go “the taller man looks at her with a smile on his face” or “the blonde girl laughs, feeling his eyes on her” on characters whose names are already known by the readers. I admit that this is something I used to do for so long because I thought it was cool, until I learned it’s just unrealistic, because normally, if you know someone; say, if they’re your friend, you don’t call them “the taller man” or “the blonde girl” or “the older man”, you call them by their names. so unless your readers aren’t supposed to know the names of these characters yet, just say “Justin looks at her with a smile on his face” or “Sarah laughs, feeling his eyes on her” — it feels more natural this way.

don’t give readers your personal feelings. “the walls are closing in, and he still has trouble standing up on unsteady legs. panic’s making it hard to breathe as he realizes he’s going to die. what will poor Daniel do now?” — “poor” in this case is the author’s opinion, how they feel about their character. it’s unnecessary to add in your work because, with all due respect, it can make the whole thing sound like a children’s book where readers are not capable of knowing how they’re supposed to feel in this scene and so they need the author to tell them how to feel. unless you’re writing something specifically for kids, don’t do this. don’t insult your readers’ intelligence by constantly guiding them how they should feel about this particular character in this particular situation. your readers are not kids. they are perfectly capable of knowing how they feel. they will feel sorry for the character on their own. they will read your work and think “oh no, poor guy. how will he get out of this now?” on their own. you, as the author, don’t have to tell them to be sorry for the character.

don’t outright underestimate your own work. being humble is a good thing, but sometimes you just have to be proud. don’t directly say “this sucks” or “I don’t really like how this turned out” in the author’s note, it can actually drive readers away from your fic. it drove me away from a fic so many times. and it’s a shame, because I really believe your readers — I really believe I — would’ve loved your fic if they’d — if I had — given it a chance. but the disclaimer that outright says “this isn’t good” from the author themself is unfortunately more than enough a reason as to why readers decide not to read it altogether. so… don’t say that. you can be unsatisfied with your work, but your readers don’t have to know that. hell, they might even love it. so, yeah, be proud.

don’t replace eyes with orbs. I… admit that I frequently did this during my Wattpad phase, and it’s actively haunting my nightmares to this day. I guarantee you that you can just say eyes. “she looks right into his eyes” yes, you can say this, and it will always sound more professional in terms of writing than “she looks right into his beautiful blue orbs” which, if I’m being brutally honest, “orbs” used to describe eyes just makes it all sounds like a school essay where we purposefully use fancy words so that our teachers know we have those words memorized in our vocabulary. but yeah… it’s painfully cringe to call eyes orbs and it almost always makes me want to just stop reading your work, and I mean this with utter respect. don’t make the same mistake I made when I was an emo teenager. if you really must have to use other word that isn’t “eyes” just call them face balls or something (I’m joking, please don’t actually call them face balls). but seriously, literally anything that isn’t orbs. just… call them eyes. it’s already perfect.

don’t replace world with planet, if your work doesn’t include theme about space/sci-fi or if you’re not describing an actual planet (as in climate change towards the planet or a lost planet that’s never been found, for instance). — world and planet give readers two very different feelings. if you’re describing an antagonist, who is not a literal alien from another planet, whose plan is to corrupt or take over the world, just say world. “he knows he will watch the world burn in the end” sounds more aesthetically appealing and more professionally interesting than “he will destroy this beautiful planet” because, honestly, the latter sounds like I’m reading a fic about climate change, which yeah… unless you’re writing a fic about climate change, just avoid using the word planet in context like this and you’re good.

don’t avoid the use of Capital Letters at the beginning of a sentence and when you’re mentioning a specific name while writing a fic. you’re probably thinking I’m being the biggest hypocrite right now, because I’ve literally been deliberately using all lowercase phrases this entire post. I mean that’s because this is just a Tumblr post, not an actual AO3 fic. listen, I know writing fic is a hoppy, not a job. but if you really want to have your readers feel like they’re reading an actual novel while reading your work, I promise you the use of Capital Letters is your best friend, don’t neglect them.

*smut below the cut*

don’t replace cock with penis. I won’t go too deep here (no pun intended HELP💀) but cock sounds sexy, exciting and fun. while penis sounds like you’re describing a human anatomy during a lecture. smut is supposed to make readers feel aroused. it’s not supposed to make them feel like they’re reading a text book or are studying for an exam.

don’t replace cunt with pussy. in my very humble opinion, while talking about smut, cunt sounds explicit, raw, erotically mysterious and is overall a turn on while… I don’t know, reading the word pussy just doesn’t make me go AAAAAAHHHH the way reading the word cunt does (just my guess but maybe it’s because the word “pussy” is overused; we call everything a pussy nowadays that it just lost its meaning). also, from 99% of the smut I’ve read, it’s more professionally written if the author uses cunt instead of pussy.

***also, for the same reason why we don’t replace cock with penis in a smut fic, please don’t use the word vagina unless you’re preparing your readers for their anatomy class.

[patroxlos]

home base . ch3

"friends who believe in mpreg" - 2.7k words

ultraman: rising (2024). kenji sato x reader

master post. ao3 link.

previous: ch2. "friends who reconnected and who certainly don't want to be more"

next: ch4. "friends who sleep on call with each other"

Kenji endures an awkward interview with sports journalist Ami Wakita.

And is it monsterfucking if you're kind of into Ultraman?

A/N: So my dad accidentally bought me a coffee float instead of the coke float I asked him to get me. I ended up caffeinated at 11PM and began writing this in jitters. it's nearly 3AM. This is unedited and unfiltered which means: my writing is gonna be so unserious you will sit there and ask yourself "Is this writer different from the one who made the last two chapters?"

Hoping you can keep up with all my pop culture references. Motsubishi is such a silly little name. I was workshopping other company names like "Soni," "Yomaha," etc. but Motsubishi is giving Mob Psycho 100 brand parody.

Also, I refer to Ami as 'Ms. Wakita' connotes that she and Ken are still not that close, but as you would be able to tell while reading, they are begrudgingly becoming fast friends.

---

“Absolutely not.” Ken denies it immediately, with a slight aggression. “There’s no lovechild to speak of. We are just friends.”

Ami Wakita flinches a bit at his tone. “Woah, they weren’t kidding when they said you’re a bit defensive about her.”

“Who’s they?” He huffs, taking a bite from a strip of tonkatsu to calm down. He was glad that it is just him and Ms. Wakita in the restaurant at the moment. He would not want anyone to overhear their conversation about you. 

“Your friendship with the Motsubishi scion has been well-documented since the start of your professional career. Rumors about your couplings have been circling since before,” Ms. Wakita points out.

“No comment.” His media training kicks in with his mouth full.

She rubs her temple a bit. “What did I say about you showing a little vulnerability?”

“I didn’t even say anything about my dad before you psychoanalyzed me!”

“Well was I wrong?”

Damn, she’s good. “...I thought you were a sports reporter.”

“Reporting on the players’ personal lives is a big part of it,” she coolly responds. “You should read my articles on Ohtani’s translator embezzling his funds, or the Yuki Tsunoda puppy interview I produced.”

“This isn’t about puppies though…” His shoulders are tense. “She’s just been my friend for as long as I can remember. Her family has always been good to my family– especially to my mom–and I know how much they value privacy. She is at a really crucial point of her career working to inherit one of the biggest conglomerates of the world. She and I definitely wouldn’t risk a secret pregnancy.”

He is impassioned when it comes to you.

“Woah…Can I quote that?” Ms. Wakita glanced down at her phone recording their conversation.

He deflates. “Yeah yeah sure whatever. You’re right, this isn’t the first time someone has made up stuff about us. Lovechild is new though. The last time it was an arranged marriage.”

“If it helps, online reaction has always been generally positive at the idea of you two coupling up,” she tries to be helpful. “Both of you are celebrities in your own right. You’re both young, wealthy and attractive. It fulfills a lot of people’s fantasies. The engagement rumors came about only because you two have been publicly attached to each other for so long.”

It does help. A bit too much. His heart picks up. Of course Ken has read all the comments whenever those articles came out over the years. You visit him in L.A. whenever you could, and those visits helped a lot with maintaining your friendship. There are multiple photos of you attending his career-defining games wearing his baseball jersey— the oversized look making you seem like his perfect WAG sitting beside his mom.

Ms. Wakita reads this on his face, clear as day. She figures that he is telling the truth about you and him never ever being romantically involved, but there seems to be something additional brewing on the surface. Putting on an unassuming tone, she asks “So I guess that’s it? You both can’t imagine being involved?”

He leans back on his seat, confidently answering “Yes, we both think it won’t work out long term—”

He proceeds to unlean as the realization causes him to hunch over. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuckity fuck. She really can get the devil to confess his sins.

She tries not to look too thrilled about his slip up, which he can commend her for.

“W-What I mean is that neither her nor me— it’s not happening. It never happened,” he stammers. He needs a new media trainer.

“I’m sure you recall that there have been photos—”

“Of her at my games? Of course she was, haha!” He did NOT need her to mention their other photos right now.

Please don’t.

Please don’t. Please… He is supposed to be moving on. Which he has!

“—that pop up over the years of you two being overly familiar.” She finishes.

God kill him. “All alleged. They’re too blurry to be sure it is us.”

“...Some looked like pro shots to me.”

Ken nearly slams his face on his tonkatsu.

“The one where you’re both getting smoothies at Erewhon was cute?” She sounds honest, and she is. She isn’t even going to report on this. It is already evident that the gossip is a sham, but she cannot help but want to tease the baseball player a bit, now that they are sort of becoming acquainted.

He sighs. “Thanks. It was the Ken Sato wheatgrass and bone broth blend. She didn’t like it.”

He remembers that day. You made a face when he tried to get you to take a little sip, so he blew some raspberries against your cheek and maaaybe just a little on your neck as you both stood in the parking lot; you were shrieking for him to stop as his smoothie-covered lips smothered your skin. All friendly, of course.

“Where did the lovechild thing even come from?” Ken thinks aloud. “She looks too great to be pregnant.”

Ms. Wakita, known single mother, asks “...Do women not look great pregnant?”

“Oh you know what I meant,” He snaps as she covers her mouth with a napkin to laugh.

She stops the recording on her phone to slide him the online tabloid article. Allegedly, he and you fought about him being an absent father at the restaurant last night as you have endured your pregnancy all alone. The story ends with a sweet coupling at the parking lot before you left on separate vehicles, a marker that neither of you planned to get married, or a possible abortion in the near future. What. 

“You have a thing for parking lots?” She tries to joke.

His eyes nearly bulge at one line. “‘ The Motsubishi scion ate for two as she devoured a Yakisoba platter all alone—’ It was a decently sized portion for a reasonable price! And I definitely am not an absent father!” He says the last bit with a bit too much vigor.

“I didn’t write it,” She tries to keep his emotions in check. “...I did nearly believe it for a moment though when you called me last night. Was it an hour or two after you met up with her at the yakisoba place?”

He admits that if he was in Ms. Wakita’s place, he would’ve also thought he was secretly raising a child. He wonders whether the Baby is awake right now, terrorizing Mina. “Totally unrelated events.”

“And the apparent baby book purchases in your credit histo— how did a gossip mag get that information?” She marvels as she scrolls through her phone.

He doesn’t know what’s worse: the world finding out that he is raising a giant baby lizard in his basement or people thinking that he’s an absentee like his own dad.

A red blinking light catches Ms. Wakita’s eye. “Are…you gonna get that?”

Not hearing her at first, he runs a hand through his face. God he really did not want to imagine your reaction to this news article. He promised you that it would not be weird. The past is past. If your friendship is already in danger, this might ruin things even further. Oh he can already hear the alarm bells ringing in his head—

Or from his watch?!

“Hey, you don’t have a kid growing in you right now, do you?” Your assistant asks you as she glances at your stomach.

You were both in one of your sleek city limousines on the way to a late evening banquet, where you are due to give a speech. The traffic jam in front of you stretches a kilometer. You follow her gaze. “I thought this suit was slimming.”

She passes you her phone. Huh. ‘Motsubishi Scion Gets Impregnated by Famous Baseball Star.’  You pass the phone back to her. “I don’t want to see the kind of porn you’re looking at.”

“Young Master, it’s an article about you and Ken Sato.” Your assistant was not in the mood for your jokes right now.

You just shrug, taking your phone out to send a few quick texts to Ken. You are sure he probably heard the news by now, and he will definitely agree with you that it is as hilarious as it is ridiculous. “It’ll blow over.”

As you look back out of your window, you’ve already forgotten about it. Seems like a slow day for the newsroom.

At the horizon, you see a PacMan proudly sticking out from the top of a building get knocked down by some beam of light. You yawn and stretch back out on your seat. “Can we go any faster? I want to get this banquet over with.”

Your driver sighs. “This new kaiju attack is impossible ma’am. Apparently, it is just running around without any clear direction.”

“Well I don’t think a monster would have access to KoogleMaps,” you reply wryly.

It was going to be a long night. You begin to settle in for a nap while people are exiting their cars and running out into the streets. Their screams of terror sound muffled inside your bullet-proof vehicle.

“Should we get out too?” Your assistant nervously asks.

You lift up your foot and rest it on your knee. “I’m wearing So Kates. I don’t think I can run either way.”

As you say that, your security detail at the front of the limo begins getting out. Ugh, Tokyo is the worst… You need to fly out soon. He opens your car door and extends a hand out. “Let me carry you, Young Master. Better to evacuate now.”

“Must I?” You groan in frustration.

“We can skip the banquet and take you home,” he compromises. Begrudgingly, you step out of the vehicle just in time for the pinkest…chicken lizard to pop up at the corner of the street.

Immediately, you are swept off your feet as your security detail rushes to escort you and your assistant away from that thing as fast as possible, the wind is knocked out of your lungs. You peek over the shoulder of your bodyguard for a better glimpse at the chirping beast.

You lock eyes with it.

Big mistake.

Because why the hell did it flitter with excitement and began chasing you?!

It keeps chirping, and… burping?... as it hobbles and stomps over cars. Your jaw drops as your limo is flattened like nothing. And for some strange reason, the monster’s eyes are solely trained on you.

Did I do something to piss it off? You ask yourself as it gets closer. You know you can be a bitch but you would remember if you told it to fuck off. No, this monster is chasing after you like it knew you. There was no aggression in its oddly proportioned body, like you are being chased by that grotesque baby in the Tin Toy Pixar short. There is no moral compass behind those beady little eyes, just the pure pleasure-seeking nature of baby hedonism.

It gets closer, and your bodyguard’s legs can only run for so long. He screams bloody murder as he feels himself get picked up, you along with him, by the beast. You hear another scream that sounds like your own voice as you feel yourself get ripped from your bodyguard’s grasp. The monster puts him back down on the street, his landing relatively gentle.

You are being shaken like a rattle now in its claws, its gurgling filling your ears. “Oh my god.” You feel yourself getting sick from the nausea. You never thought you were going to die like this. Your legs flail in the air helplessly but your So Kates stay on, pinching your toes like you are about to give them the best shoe advertisement Louboutin can ask for, with how it feels glued to your feet.

The ground rumbles as if a giant springs through the streets. Your life does not flash before your eyes, but you can hear it in your ears— a very clear ring of Ken shouting “Baby! Put down the human!”

…

Huh?

You felt your body decompress as the monster’s grip loosened. Air returns back into your lungs, but you don’t find yourself returned to the ground.

Instead, you are being lifted up way higher into the sky as you lay on the palm of Tokyo’s hero: Ultraman.

You hiss as your eyes burn from the blinding lights of Ultraman’s unblinking lenses. “Are you okay—?” He says your name with a rising panic. You can swear you saw his chest light threaten you change colors. He is cradling you against it.

You did not know Ultraman can be this friendly with Tokyoites. You struggle to regain your ability to speak, a bit confused and frazzled from everything that just happened in the past minute.

The hero takes this as a bad sign. “Oh god you’re hurt.” There is an ache in his words that shakes up your own core. No one has ever sounded this worried for you.

Man is he bright . You try to shield your eyes from his light. You are brought up close to his face as he inspects your body. “I– I’m fine,” You manage to rasp out. You are initially not sure he heard you, but the evident sag of his colossal, broad shoulders affirms that he did.

You have never gotten to observe the hero this up close. Despite the unemoting face, you find his body to be an open book as it trembles with the fear of losing you. Even if he must be like this with every other citizen in need of saving, you cannot help but feel a little special.

“I was so worried— wait here for help.” He lowers you on top of a roof building, his fingers shaky, worrying about dropping you. You shakily slide off his palm, patting down your suit. You stumble a little on your stilettos, and instantly his massive hands crowd you once more to hold you up. " Please be careful."

“Ultraman!” You shout as you push away his fingers. “I’m okay, thank you!” You point towards the Tokyo Tower, where the baby-like kaiju was already climbing up. “You gotta deal with that first! Leave me, I’ll be alright."

“Huh? Oh, yeah, god… ” The hero curses, getting ready to sprint towards the tower. “Be a good girl and stay put, yeah?” He says to you before running off.

Your feet wobble on your heels as you nearly keel over from the adrenaline coursing through your body. That… you are never leaving the house again during a kaiju attack. Though… you watch as the slim figure of Ultraman begin to climb the tower after the kaiju. Maybe it won’t be that bad next time.

Later that evening in the Ultrabase, Ken excuses himself from the company of his father, Mina and the baby as he heads towards the bathroom for a long-awaited shower. His muscles ache with every step, and he is tempted to pass out on the cold floor— wouldn’t be the first time since getting this newfound responsibilities.

This is getting too overwhelming. He still cannot believe he felt so cornered against the wall that he had to call his dad for help like some kid. If only you saw him now. You were oddly closer to his dad than he was.

Oh shit, you.

You, who he left stranded on some random building.

He quickly fumbles for his phone, eager to call you to see if you’re alright.

Shit , he feels some tears of frustration welling up in his eyes. He is fucking everything up. He is a bad son, a bad father, a bad friend.

Ken opens his messaging app, and he first sees the texts that you sent earlier in the evening.

…

[YOU]

Hey bbgirl.

You pregnat? Pragnent?

My mom is gonna hand you a stack of 20M yen just to stay away from me. Are u g to take it so we can split it after? LOL

Not rlly in the mood to be ur baby daddy atm. get a DNA test before i send child support.

SENT LINK: Motsubishi Scion Gets Impregnated by Famous Baseball Star.

Bc if one of us left that restaurant pregnant it definitely would not be me

A/N: Ultraman fine as hell have you seen his waist?

This chapter was supposed to go A LOT differently from how it ended up being. It was initially supposed to be an extended conversation between you and your assistant about your past...whatever you had...with Kenji during your visits to L.A. But I actually really like writing Ken POV because him and I are pretty similar?

[lvis44]

Sweet Escape - Epilogue // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Smut 18+ MINORS DNI, Alcohol Consumption, Swearing, Light Angst, Not Edited

Word Count: 9.4k+

Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

Notes: Alas, here is the long awaited Epilogue. Thank you everyone for being patient with me, this became a bit of its own story and I had to stop myself from continuing (read my note at the end and let me know your opinions, I won't ask here as to not spoil anything.) I have loved writing this and I can't wait to continue this little journey with all of you wonderful babes. Thank you so much for all the love on this story, I'm glad you all seem to love it as much as I do!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight

Colorado was one of your favorite places to be with Lewis, especially when it was just the two of you. You spent so much of your relationship flying around the world and stealing moments to be alone together. It could be difficult at times, especially race weekends. Lewis had a tendency to become a different version of himself from the first step into the paddock on Thursday to the second he left on Sunday evening, there was a hard shell around him most of the time, determined and focused. It was never a bad thing, simply something to navigate. He always found ways to make sure you knew how grateful for you he was, even in the simplest ways. When you would both arrive in Colorado, tucked away in the mountains, every guard he had built would come down, it’s when you got the utmost access to the love of your life. That's why you were shocked when he had sent you your travel plans for the week. You had talked with him multiple times about meeting him in Colorado for his time off, spending time just the two of you after too long being apart. Without consulting you he had changed your plans, scheduling another family trip, another trip to the Caribbean. You hadn’t been back to the island since the beginning of your relationship, almost exactly a year ago. Your anniversary would be coming up in the next week and you wanted to spend it with him, however life and work got in the way, forcing you to be apart from him for an already two week stretch. That is why Colorado had been the perfect plan, just the two of you only a few days after your anniversary, now you would be with all your friends in a place you had many mixed emotions about. You understood that he didn’t have the same opportunities to see everyone, rarely being in town for parties and dinners, but selfishly you truly didn’t want to share him. 

The second you received the surprise email with your travel itinerary you were on the phone. It only rang once before he picked up.

“Hey baby, I’ve only got a second. What's up?” He sounded out of breath through the line and you wondered if you had interrupted his training, not that you cared at the moment.

“We’re going to the island?” You got straight to the point.

“Yeah, I mean I bought the house, we might as well use it.” He chuckled, ignoring the fact that your plans had been drastically changed. 

“I know that, but I thought we had plans.” Your voice came out whinier than you had meant it to, unable to hide your disappointment.

“Yeah, shit, I’m sorry babe. I meant to talk to you about it but Charlotte and Miles were on my ass about another family trip and I just scheduled everything for the next second I had off.” He tried to reason, not helping your disappointment. It was strange for him to not consult you about plans he was making, more often than not he would check in with you more than necessary. 

“I know you want to see everybody but I wanted to spend time with you, celebrate our anniversary together.” You knew you were fighting a losing battle, everything was set in stone and he wouldn't disappoint your friends.

“We’ll still be together sweetie, we’ll have more than enough time to celebrate our anniversary, I promise.” His words were soft and you could tell he was trying to end the conversation. There was no point in continuing the argument.

“I know, I know, I just miss you.” You conceded.

“I miss you too, more than you know, but in just over a week I’m all yours. Gonna give you the biggest fucking hug.” He sighed, also feeling the effects of not being together.

‘You’re not going to be all mine, that's the problem’ you thought to yourself, deciding not to say anything, it wouldn’t help the situation in any way.

Before you could respond he was already saying his goodbyes, “I gotta go, m’sorry, but I’ll call you later and I’ll see you soon. I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you Lew.” You said solemnly, wishing for just a few more moments with him, even if over the phone.

…

The next week and a half dragged on for what felt like a year, communication from him was slim, even on your anniversary. He had messaged you a picture of the two of you from a few months ago, it was a selfie taken in some random hotel overseas, you were pressed up against him with your face in his neck, a massive smile across both of your faces. His message had been simple and cheeky “Thank you for giving me a chance and putting up with me for a whole ass year, I love you more than I could ever let you know xx.” When you messaged him back it had gone unanswered. You couldn’t understand what was going on with him, his lack of communication was incredibly out of character and it was starting to irritate you.

By the time that you arrived at the large vacation house, your mood was sour. Your flight was long and lonely, your friends flying out at different times and from different places. When you arrived everyone was already there. You were irritated with Lewis and his lack of communication and care for the wrench in your plans. Seeing the house again as you pulled into the driveway brought very mixed emotions, on one hand it was the place you finally found the love of your life, on the other it was the place where you spent a week fighting with your best friend and thinking that you had lost him. When you stepped out of the car, Lewis was already there waiting for you, a big smile on his face and open arms ready for you.

“Well hello there pretty lady.” He said, engulfing you in a hug before you even had the chance to close the car door.

It was hard to stay mad at him as he wrapped himself around you, his embrace feeling like coming home. He buried his face into your neck as he squeezed you so hard you thought you were going to burst.

“Hi.” You answered softly, taking in his familiar scent.

When he finally pulled away he didn’t go far, his large palms coming up to cradle your cheeks. His smile was so big it looked like his face would split in two.

“God I fucking missed you.” He sighed before pulling you in for a heavy kiss. It was like he was trying to pour every kiss you would have received in the last few weeks into one.

You're not sure how long you stood there kissing him, enjoying being with your partner after way too long. It wasn’t until you heard a gagging sound from behind you that you pulled away from him.

“Jesus, I’m all for you two being in love and shit but damn, I don’t need to see all that.” Miles complained from behind you while grabbing your bags.

“Oh fuck off, I haven’t seen my girl in two weeks, I’ve got shit to make up for.” Lewis laughed, his hand coming down to firmly grab your ass.

“Two weeks? I ain’t seen you in two months, where the hell is my kiss?” Miles continued in a jokingly distraught voice.

“Come and get it.” Lewis teased him, puckering his lips like a child, still not letting go of you.

“I’d rather kiss a frog,” Miles deadpanned, “now let go of Y/N so I can give her a hug.”

Lewis very reluctantly parted from you, not going far as Miles wrapped his broad frame around you, squeezing you tight with a kiss to your head that made you giggle. The second Miles let you go, Lewis was already grabbing your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and giving it a squeeze. When you turned to look at him he was already staring at you, a soft smile on his face and a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite place. You gave him a questioning look but all he did was shake his head and lean down to peck your lips quickly before ushering you into the house after Miles.

‘Well look who’s finally here!” Charlotte's voice came through the kitchen loudly the moment she saw you.

It only took a few seconds before you were wrapped in yet another tight hug, as if you hadn’t seen her only a week ago. You two had gotten lunch shortly after Lewis had changed your plans, and while you didn’t want to complain to her, you did try to get any information possible as to why Lewis had been acting so strange. She hadn’t said much, simply brushing it off by saying he must be busier than usual, but you could tell she knew something else and it had been eating away at you.

After saying your hellos to everyone you found a moment to quietly excuse yourself from the kitchen, heading down the hall to the room Lewis had stayed in last time, the room you had ended up moving into the night you finally got together. When you got to the doorway you paused, seeing unfamiliar luggage in the room. You had traveled with Lewis enough at this point to pick his luggage out from the most packed carousel in the world, and his was nowhere to be seen, neither was yours. As you stood there confused, a pair of strong arms came around your waist, pulling you back against a firm, warm body. You turned in his arms, his chocolate brown eyes coming into view.

“Sorry, I forgot to mention we’re not staying in here, Miles and his girlfriend are.” Lewis said softly.

You had met Miles’ girlfriend a few times now and you had to say she was one of the sweetest people he could have ever found. You were very happy for him but at this moment you were slightly irked at that concept.

“Not to sound like a bitch, but really?” You said with a huff, making Lewis chuckle.

“Babe, it’ll-” He started but you cut him off.

“No, Lew, I mean, it’s your house and we’re supposed to be celebrating our anniversary. I don’t even want to be here, I wanted to be in Colorado with you and just you but I didn’t want to sound ungrateful or anything. I know you don’t get to see everybody all that often but I feel like you don’t even care that it’s our first anniversary together, it seems like it’s an after thought for you, if it’s even a thought at all.” You rambled your emotions to him quietly, not wanting to offend anyone.

Lewis frowned, his brows furrowed in concern, “Hun, I absolutely care, and I’m sorry for changing our plans like that,” He paused, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “but if you’d let me show you something I think you might change your mind about being here, just a little bit.”

You let out a sigh, shrugging, still not fully feeling like your anniversary was a priority to him.

“Hey, look at me, we’re going to have an incredible anniversary week together, in the place we first admitted we were in love with each other. There’s a part of the property I didn’t get to show you last time we were here, come with me and then you can decide if you still hate the idea of celebrating here.” He didn’t wait for an answer, grabbing your hands and urging you to follow him.

“Are we gonna see you two again tonight?” Charlotte called out teasingly as Lewis pulled you through the back doors.

“Maybe, maybe not, don’t count on it.” Lewis yelled back over his shoulder with a laugh.

You gave him another questioning look but he just told you to hurry up and pulled you quicker behind him. He took you to the forest, near the path you’d always taken down to the beach but this time veered off on a different small path that you had never really noticed the last time you were here. You were now walking next to him, his hand firmly grasping yours as you started to see a trail of sparkling lights illuminating the small path as the sun was going down.

“Watch your step love, there’s a few steps down right here.” Lewis’ voice pulled you out of the trance you had fallen into while admiring the pretty lights.

He held your hand while you took the few steps down before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you under his arm, making your walk slightly clumsy.

“I know you would rather we were in Colorado, just the two of us, and I’m sorry, I really am. I wasn’t thinking when I booked this trip in all honesty, and I know that sounds bad, Charlotte yelled at me as soon as she saw the dates. Just, I wasn’t really thinking about the fact that it was our anniversary, it doesn’t feel like it could possibly be our one year because I feel like we’ve been together forever. So I know I fucked up, but I’ve also had this plan for bringing you back here for quite a while and I’ll be honest when Miles mentioned coming here for vacation I jumped on the opportunity, I needed to. And I know this isn’t exactly what you envisioned or what I promised and I’m sorry for that but I was hoping that maybe this could be our little sanctuary, make us forget that anyone else even exists.” Lewis’ apology is sweet but leaves you with more questions, wanting to know what his need to be back here so badly was.

You round the corner with him, walking out onto a part of the beach you hadn’t seen before, nestled into an alcove you hadn’t previously explored. That's when you see a small bridge, leading to the most beautiful bungalow sitting atop the water. You gasp, seeing it lit up with beautiful lights, making it sparkle.

“It’s technically supposed to be the guest house,” Lewis begins quietly, “but I figured it could be our little vacation from the group vacation. Somewhere it can be just us.”

You turn toward him, your eyes glassy, “It’s beautiful Lew, thank you.” You lean up to press your lips against his softly.

“Another bonus is you can be as loud as you want down here.” He whispers cheekily against your lips, pecking them once more.

“Lewis!” You laugh, swatting at his chest as you blush.

He catches your wrist with a big smile, pressing a kiss to your pulse point before grabbing your hand and pulling you along down to the bungalow.

“God, do we have to hike it all the way back up there to get our luggage?” You groan, realizing you have nothing with you.

“Nope,” Lewis laughs, “Miles decided to be helpful and already lugged it all down here, I unfortunately owe him.”

When he opened the door, you found yourself speechless. There was a small kitchen directly through the front door, nothing fancy but enough that you would never have to leave if you didn’t want to. As you walked past the kitchen and down the short hallway the room opened up. There was a bathroom with a large shower and a large soaker tub to your right and a lush king size bed to your left. Large windows lined the whole left side of the bungalow, a small seating area just below them. Straight ahead of you were large sliding doors that Lewis was already moving to open, once he did, the whole front wall was open.

“There’s a screen we can shut if it gets too buggy but I want you to see it like this first.” Lewis explained, already knowing you would be worried about strange bugs in your bed.

He outstretched his hand to you once again, pulling you out onto the patio. What you were met with amazed you even more than the inside. There was a hot tub off to the side, already bubbling away, more sparkling fairy lights lining the pergola that covered part of the patio. There were two large chaise lounges overlooking the endless view of the sea. He was already guiding you down another small set of stairs where you were met with a small infinity pool, just beside the pool was an outdoor shower. You spotted another set of steps that appeared to go off directly into the sea.

“Babe, it’s-” You were at a loss for words as you turned to him, not quite knowing how to sum up how incredible everything was.

He smiled, stepping in front of you and placing his large hands on your waist, “I know it’s not exactly what you envisioned, but I do want this to be special. I’m so sorry I fucked up our first anniversary, I promise I’ll do better with every single one to come.”

“It’s not what I envisioned, and I am still annoyed you forgot our anniversary,” You tease before becoming more serious, “but Lew, this is perfect, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“Hey, I didn’t actually forget, it was a momentary lapse in judgment.” He playfully defends himself, pulling you closer to him.

“Whatever you say mister,” You laugh, “but I love it. I love you.”

He wastes no time in pressing his lips to yours, mumbling “I love you too, so much more than words could ever explain.”

“As much as I want to stay right here and kiss you forever, I really want to take a shower, I feel disgusting from all the flying.” You say when you finally separate from him.

“How about I run us a bath and we cuddle up and start to enjoy our belated anniversary celebrations.” He suggests, having you immediately nodding.

“Okay, you stay here and enjoy the view, I’ll come get you in a minute.” He says, squeezing your hip as he presses a kiss to your temple.

As he makes his way back up to the bungalow you settle into one of the comfy chairs overlooking the beautiful view. There’s still a slight annoyance in the back of your head at his admission of not even thinking of your anniversary when he planned this trip but you can’t help but be grateful that you will at least have him to yourself in some way this week. It may not be exactly what you had envisioned but you’re just happy that you will get to spend time with him. You understand what he was saying earlier, it doesn’t seem like it should be your one year anniversary, you truly feel like you’ve been with him forever. You practically live together, the most you possibly can with his ridiculous schedule. You’ve loved him far longer than you’ve been with him, and you’ve had the support and care of a partner from him since the day you met him. You know you’re going to be with him forever, nothing else would make sense, you could never fathom the idea of not being his now that you have him. You get lost in your thoughts as you wait for him, staring out over the beautiful ocean as you play through memories of your relationship like a highlight reel in your head. The first time he took you on a romantic getaway, the first time he introduced you as his girlfriend to his family, your first christmas together, your birthdays. Everything about him has felt like a fairytale.

“Hey baby, the bath is ready.” His soft voice startles you with its close proximity, you hadn’t even noticed him sit down on the arm of the chair next to you.

He chuckles when you jump, soothing his palm over your back, “Off in your own little world, were ya?”

“Oh shush, I was just enjoying the view.” You laugh along with him, moving to get up and follow him to the bathroom.

When you step into the bathroom you find yourself speechless yet again. The tub is up against a large window you hadn’t noticed earlier, giving you a spectacular view. He’s opened the window to let the warm breeze in, making the flames of the candles he’s placed around the room flicker in the wind. He has soft music playing and the tub is full to the brim with bubbles that smell like heaven. The lights are off except for a small light giving off hues of sunset, dimly illuminating the room. His hands are on your hips from behind, hiking up your shirt as he places soft kisses along your shoulder. He crouches down ever so slightly, kissing your spine as he pulls down your shorts and panties all at once. He places the softest of kisses to the back of your thighs before standing once more. When you turn to undress him, he’s already taken his shirt off, leaving you to push his shorts down his toned thighs, chuckling when you see he’s gone commando. He just shrugs, giving you a cheeky smirk before pulling you in to kiss him tenderly. For a moment you wonder if you will even make it to the bath as his hands roam your body, taking handfuls of the flesh that he loves to knead in his large palms. He eventually parts from you, leaving soft pecks all over your face before stepping around you and sinking down into the tub with a soft sigh. He simply stares at you for a moment, his face showing nothing but love and adoration, finally he outstretches his hand to help you in.

You lean back against his chest, reveling in the feeling of the firm muscles under his soft skin. His chin hooks over your shoulder, placing a kiss to your cheek as his arms snake around your waist to pull you in closer to him.

“Happy anniversary my love.” He whispers against your skin before he’s reaching over the edge of the tub to grab two glasses of champagne you hadn’t noticed before. He hands you one, clinking his glass against yours before rubbing his nose along your jaw up to your ear, “This has been one of the worst seasons of my career, yet one of the best years of my life, only thanks to you. You have made me happier than I ever knew possible and I hope that I have been able to reciprocate that for you. I plan on spending every day trying to make you the happiest, most loved woman on the face of this earth, because that is all that you deserve in life. You are the most remarkable human I have ever had the honor of meeting, Y/N. Thank you for letting me love you, and thank you for loving me the way that you do.”

By the end of his speech there are tears in your eyes. Looking at him you see the same glassiness mirrored in his own, knowing just how much he meant each and every word he whispered into your ear.

“I love you more than life itself Lewis, and I will never stop loving you. I’m sorry I was moody earlier, I was being petty. All I need to be happy is you, as long as you’re around, I am the happiest I can ever be. I’m already the happiest woman on earth simply because I get to say that I am loved by you, it’s truly something I don’t think I could ever explain to anyone. Thank you for all of this, it’s perfect, truly.” You tell him sincerely, your voice thick with emotion.

“Don’t apologize sweetheart, you had every reason to be annoyed with me. I hope you know it wasn’t remotely intentional, and I should have talked to you about it, even if it was after I’d made the plans. I’m sorry I’ve been a bit MIA this past week.” He further apologizes, holding your eyes with his to show just how serious he is.

You can see the remorse written across his face, never one that was good at hiding his emotions once he’s let them be seen for the first time. It’s as if once the floodgates that are Lewis’ emotions are opened to you, there is no closing it, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He wears his heart on his sleeve.

“Have you been okay?” You ask him, adjusting in his lap so you can look at him better, bringing your hand up to stroke the short stubble at the side of his jaw.

He furrows his brows in question, “Yeah, I’ve been fine. I’ve just been really busy these last few weeks, been planning something that I need to get perfect.”

“Oh? And what exactly have you been planning Sir Hamilton?” You ask him jokingly, yet always wanting to know what he’s working on, always interested in the amazing things he does.

He looks down, averting his eyes from you, looking suddenly shy, “You’ll see when the time’s right, soon, I promise.”

“Mm’kay.” You hum out, taking a sip of your champagne before nuzzling into his chest, resting your head on his shoulder.

He just chuckles, the sound vibrating through your body, tightens his arm around you to rest his cheek on the top of your head.

“I love you, happy one year.” He whispers to you.

“I love you, happy one year.” You repeat as you grin into the skin on his neck, placing a chaste kiss there.

If anyone had asked you how you thought you would be spending your one year anniversary with the love of your life, this would have never been your answer. The two of you cuddled in the warm bath, listening to the sound of the waves crashing, hidden away from your friends in your own private Caribbean bungalow. You had expected him to make a move while you were in the tub, but he didn’t, leaving you slightly shocked but not entirely disappointed. You hadn’t seen him in nearly three weeks and you could feel him pressed against your leg, hard and begging to be touched, it was unlike the two of you to not immediately pounce on one and other the second you were alone. Yet something about the moment with him in the tub felt more intimate than sex ever could, the two of you just enjoying being in each other's arms, each other’s presence, knowing you had more than enough time to reunite later on.

“Where do you want to be in five years?” Lewis asked quietly, breaking the comfortable silence as his hand traced slow circles on your hip.

“Five years?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him.

“Yeah.” He shrugged like he was trying to play it off as a casual question, his face giving him away.

“Well,” You start, pausing to think a bit, “I want to be with you-”

“Well obviously.” He cut you off with a playful smirk.

“Hey, you didn’t let me finish.” You laugh.

“Sorry, I’m usually good about that,” He winks, “continue.”

“Idiot,” You mumble through a laugh before continuing, “I want to be happy, surrounded by people I love. I’d like to be in a different job, I think, something where I have more flexibility. I just want to be someone that me now would be proud of.”

He smiles fondly at you, evidently content with your answer.

“What about you?” You prompt him, genuinely curious.

“I think I want to be done with racing, moving on to a new chapter of my life, with you by my side obviously.” He says quietly.

“You really think you’ll be done in five years? I know you’ve mentioned it before but, do you really think so?” You ask.

“Yeah, we’ve been going over my contract a lot these last few weeks and I think my mind is finally set. I obviously want to get the eighth title, but if that doesn’t happen in the next five years, maybe it was never meant to.” He explains.

“It’s always been meant to, if anyone can it’s you Lew.” You argue.

“I don’t mean that in a way of me giving up, I’m gonna fight like hell until the last possible second. I just mean that maybe now there are more important things for me to start focusing on, other purposes out there for me where my attention and time will be more valuable.” The way he says his words sounds like he’s talking about much more than a career change and it makes your stomach flip in anticipation, imagining your future with him.

“Whatever you end up doing, I’m positive it will be incredible, everything you do is tremendous. And I will be right there supporting you the entire way.” You tell him sincerely, leaning in to press your lips to his.

The kiss is slow and savoring, it mutes everything in your head, making the world revolve around him and only him.

“The water’s starting to get a bit cold, why don’t we get out. I’ve got some ways I can warm you up.” He murmurs against your lips.

“There he is.” You laugh, pulling away.

“What do you mean?” He giggles.

“You’ve been rock hard against my leg for the last thirty minutes and haven’t made a single move on me, I was starting to get worried about you.” You tease him.

“Oh, believe me, I’m well aware of how hard I’ve been.” He playfully rolls his eyes, “I was trying to be romantic.”

“Mmmm, I see.” You hum.

“Genuinely though, I was just enjoying cuddling with you, didn’t want to ruin the moment. But I need you. Now.” His voice gets lower as he finishes his statement, picking you up and standing abruptly.

His quick movement makes water slosh over the edge of the tub, causing you to squeal. He grabs a towel, not using it to dry either of you off but throws it down on the bed before dropping you on top of it.

“You know we could have done this exactly where we were?” You laugh at him as he crowds up against you, already placing hungry kisses down your jaw.

“Maybe, yeah, but it would be a bit hard to pin you down in the tub, I don't really want to drown the woman that I love.” He chuckles against you, grabbing your wrists to bring them above your head.

This is one of the things you’ve always loved with Lewis. You can be in the middle of something so erotic and intimate, yet still be laughing and making jokes with him. He truly is your best friend in the form of a lover.

His lips are trailing down your bare skin, causing your laughter to halt and goosebumps to erupt over your whole body. He doesn’t take even a moment to tease you, immediately diving into your core, licking a hot stripe from your opening all the way to your nerves. You gasp as you arch into him, a throaty groan coming from deep inside him. He always wears you out when you’ve been apart for some time, as if he’s making up for lost time.

“Always taste so fucking good. God I missed you.” He mumbles against your heat, the sound vibrating through your body.

He works his tongue in the way only he knows how, circling your clit perfectly before sucking it into his mouth, nibbling just enough to have your toes curling. You feel one of his fingers slip into you, already soaking wet from just being so close to him. His finger curls, expertly finding the spongy spot inside of you that he knows so well.

“Fuck, Lewis, yes, right there.” You breathe out, your head tilting back into the towel underneath you.

He slips a second finger in, scissoring them to get you ready for him, before returning to a steady ‘come hither’ motion inside of you. He knows he needs you to come at least once before he finally takes you, it’s been too long and he never wants you to be uncomfortable, and he’s doing everything in his power to get you there. Fast.

“That feel good babygirl? You missed me making you feel good?” He asks, already knowing the answer from your flushed cheeks and mouth hung open.

All you can do to respond is moan and buck your hips up toward him, your ability to speak already gone from the moment he put his lips on you.

“Yeah pretty girl? You been trying to make yourself feel good while I’ve been gone?” He continues with his questions, evidently enjoying how difficult it is for you to respond as his thumb finds your clit, flicking quickly.

You nod, turning your head to the side as you let out a loud moan when a third finger slips inside of you.

“Poor baby, it doesn’t feel this good does it? Doesn’t feel as good as me inside of you, can’t make yourself cum the way I can?” He’s moved up so he’s hovering above you, his fingers still working overtime to get you to your peak.

You feel your stomach tighten at his words, knowing he’s right, and then your orgasm rips through your body, soaking his hand. He barely lets up with his movements as he works you through it, kissing your throat, your cheek, your forehead, anywhere his lips can land to work you down from your high.

“You know how I know it’s not the same?” He asks, his voice deep and filled with lust.

You hum, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Because it’s never the same for me either. No matter how many times I wrap my hand around my cock, it will never come close to the feeling of being inside you. Nothing makes me feel the way you do, nothing will ever come close. I always need you, nothing but you.” His words are mumbled against your skin as he draws his lips up your neck before finally attaching them to your own.

You don’t know where you find the strength but you manage to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close as you open your mouth for him. He licks into your mouth, his tongue toying with your own as he rests most of his weight on you, something that you have grown to love. You find yourself bringing one of your hands down in between the two of you, grasping his hard cock. He groans into your mouth at the simple touch, evidently pent up from the time in the tub. You work him in slow strokes, savoring the feeling of his silky, hot skin. Your thumb swiping over his swollen tip to collect the leaking precum. He whimpers at the feeling, his head falling into the crook of your neck before he's grabbing your wrist.

“Y/N, baby, I’m gonna need you to stop or I’m gonna cum before I even get the chance to be inside of you.” His voice sounds pained as he pins your wrist up next to your head.

Within seconds he’s readjusting and you feel the fat head of his cock pressed against your opening. He stares deep into your eyes as he pushes in slowly, both of your mouths falling open in pure ecstasy at the feeling of finally being connected. It’s truly a feeling like no other, it feels like coming home after a long stressful week, it feels like falling into the comfiest bed, like being wrapped in a hug by someone you love. It completes you. His forehead falls to rest against your own as he stills inside of you, finally bottomed out.

“Please.” You whimper, bringing your legs up around his hips.

He lowers himself down onto you, bracing himself on his forearms on either side of your head, “I’ve got you baby, I know.”

Slowly he starts to pull out before thrusting back in with a certain force that quenches every need in your body. You grasp his bicep next to your head, your hand not able to reach all the way around it. He’s crowded over you, making you feel small and fragile, his strong broad frame engulfing you entirely. With every thrust he has your head spinning more and more. His eyes are trained on your face, always obsessed with seeing how you fall apart underneath him. His calculated, practiced moves make sure you will do just that. You can see the veins starting to pop out in his strong neck, using all his restraint to not cum before you, his whimpers becoming more frequent. You aren’t prepared, unaware you were so close to your orgasm, when it shoots through your body, even more violent than the first.

“Fuck, squeezing me so tight Y/N, I’m gonna-” His words are cut off with a guttural moan, his thrusts becoming sloppy before he’s spilling into you. Hot spurts of cum lacing your walls as you feel him twitch inside of you, a feeling you’ve become obsessed with.

He’s still pulsing inside of you as he relaxes down onto your body, momentarily crushing you but you welcome it, finding some semblance of strength to rub your fingers up and down his back. He peppers kisses along your neck, mumbling sweet nothings that you can’t hear through the ringing in your ears. The first thing you hear as you come back into yourself is a mumbled “I love you”. You lay there together, his weight bearing down on you as he stays deep inside of you, a frequent occurrence after time away, never ready to part from each other. Finally after some time he raises up to slip out of you, making you wince.

“I know baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He’s whispering, pressing light kisses to your cheek.

“I’ve really missed you these last few weeks.” You confess to him, your post orgasm brain feeling more open than usual.

“I know sweetie, I’ve missed you like crazy too. I’m sorry it was so long this time.” He says, kneeling in front of you, massaging your thighs.

You take a moment to admire him. A few of his braids have fallen from their usual bun, framing his beautiful face. The moon is shining in through the open window behind him, making him glow as though he truly is an angel placed on earth. His tattoos are dark against his tan skin, swirling black that you’ve spent hours tracing as you fall asleep or wait for him to wake up. He is your person and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Look, I know we just took a bath, but what if we hop in the shower really quick and get properly cleaned up and then I can make us a snack.” He offers, pulling at your ankle.

You just nod, letting him maneuver you up and out of the bed and into the shower. While this may not be the anniversary you had expected with him, you are more than content in this moment, just happy to be with the man that you love, and that loves you so much.

. . .

The moment you arrived back up at the main house you had been teased endlessly for not coming back up the night before. You had blushed like a highschooler but Lewis seemed proud, not having a care in the world that all of your friends were well aware how you two had spent the night.

“Ya know what? It’s our anniversary week, let us fuck in peace.” He had said pointedly at Charlotte when she had finally gotten on his nerves.

You felt bad for Miles' girlfriend, Cleo. She hadn’t spent much time with the group before, much less Lewis, and was evidently unprepared for just how little filter there was with everyone. She sat at the island with wide eyes as Lewis and Charlotte bantered about your sex life. You had shot her an apologetic smile as you tried to redirect your boyfriend onto a new topic. After that the day went smoothly. You ended up laying around the pool, everyone occasionally going for a swim or throwing around a football, just enjoying finally being away from their hectic lives.

You ended up sitting with Cleo for a little while, hoping to get to know her a little bit better. You already quite liked her, finding her to be a great fit for Miles. If she was dating your boyfriend's bestfriend you only found it fitting that you learn a little bit about her. You ended up chatting for quite some time, noticing that both Lewis and Miles would glance at you both from time to time, content smiles on their faces that their girls were getting along so well.

“Miles really likes you, ya know?’ Cleo had said, surprising you.

“I hope so, he’s one of my best friends.” You laughed.

“Well yeah,” She laughed with you, “but I mean for Lewis, if that makes sense.”

You gave her a questioning look, urging her to continue.

“He talks a lot about how glad he is that you two are together, that he’s never seen Lewis this happy.” She continued, “I don’t really know Lewis that well, I’ve only met him like twice, but from what I can see he really loves you. Nobody looks at somebody like that unless they’re head over heels.”

Her words made you blush, not expecting her to say something like that, “I really love him too.”

“I can tell.” Cleo responded with a smile.

“Alright, who’s ready to go out and get drunk?” Steph yelled from behind you, ending your conversation with Cleo.

Your mind immediately flashed back to the last time you had all been at the islands club together. You couldn’t help but wonder if Miles and Lewis would even be allowed back in. Your eyes flicked over to Lewis who was rolling his eyes and already making his way over to you.

“I’m gonna steal her if you don’t mind.” He said politely to Cleo as he was already pulling you up out of your seat.

“As much as I would love to go just to see Mariana-” You start.

“We’ll go see Mariana while we’re here, but some other time. They can all go out and get drunk, I have other plans for us tonight, if that’s okay of course.” He easily cuts you off.

You let out a sigh of relief, immediately nodding.

“Good, now I’m gonna go figure out how to let Steph down easily.” He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead before stepping around you and making his way over to your friend.

“Come on Lewis, it’s been forever since we all went out.” You hear Steph argue with whatever he says to her.

“First off, do you remember the last time we all went out here? Didn’t go too well. Second-” Before he can continue his rebuttal he’s being cut off by Charlotte who is shockingly on his side.

“It’s their anniversary week, tonight is very important Steph. Remember?” You can tell Charlotte is alluding to something that you are clearly out of the loop on.

You watch as Stephs eyes go wide before nodding quickly while Lewis mutters to Charlotte “Real subtle Char’.”

You look at Cleo who just shrugs her shoulders, obviously not aware of what's going on either.

Everyone eventually calms down and starts getting ready, heading inside to pregame as you and Lewis say goodnight. He is promptly pulling you back down to your private bungalow for whatever he has in store for you tonight. When you get inside, he is pulling the shades closed on the windows that overlook the beach. You give him a look, knowing it’s not for your own privacy.

“Okay, I want you to take a nice long shower or bath or get in the pool or something for a little while. I’m gonna go take care of some things and then I’ll come join you and we can get ready.” He explains vaguely.

“What exactly are you taking care of?” You question him, still rather confused.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ll see soon enough. Just trust me, alright?” He shakes his head.

“Okay weirdo. Why’d you close the blinds?” You continue to question.

He lets out a small huff as he shakes his head with a smile, “You never stop with the questions, do you? Just trust me. Off you go.” He says as he turns you around, patting your butt, making you giggle.

You decide to spend some time in the pool, hearing him leave the small bungalow as you change into a different suit. When you slip into the pool you can feel the water cooling your toasted skin. You let yourself look out at the beautiful view, taking in the sounds and the scents that envelope you as you bask in your real life fairytale. You never thought that you would have this kind of life, being in beautiful places with an even more beautiful man who loves you so unashamedly, so wholeheartedly. You let yourself day dream about your future with him, how many kids you might have one day, where the two of you will inevitably settle down, what your wedding day will be like. You stay in the pool for what feels like a solid hour, still no sign of Lewis. You end up getting out, heading to take a shower when you hear other people's voices outside. Everything inside of you wants to run over to the window and peek at what might be going on outside but you restrain yourself, not wanting to ruin whatever it is that Lewis has planned for you. You end up staying in the shower much longer than usual, just enjoying the feeling of the water cascading through your hair and down your spine. A pair of broad arms wrapping around your waist surprises you, you hadn’t even heard him come in. He giggles at your shock, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. Wordlessly you step out from under the water, letting him shower, letting yourself admire him as you so frequently do before stepping out and wrapping yourself in a towel.

“Hey, I wanted some company.” He complains from under the shower head.

“If I stay in any longer I may turn into an actual prune.” You say, making him laugh

He’s much quicker with his shower than you had been. Coming into the bedroom as you stare at your suitcase.

“You know, it tends to be easier if you actually put the clothes on rather than just try to will them onto your body.” He teases you, pinching your hip.

“Well if I knew what I was getting dressed for it would be a hell of a lot easier.” You say to him, suddenly feeling stressed.

“Hey,” He says, sensing your unease, “wear whatever you're comfortable in, it’s just you and me.”

“But this seems special, I don’t want to mess it up.” You say, rummaging through your suitcase.

“It’s special because it’s us, doesn’t matter what you wear. There’s very little you could do to screw this up, I promise.” He says. 

You feel a small weight lift from your shoulders when you look up to see him slipping a t-shirt over his head. Part of you wonders if he did it just to make you feel better. You give him a soft smile, finally deciding on a sundress that is the perfect combination of cute and casual.

“Ready?” He asks, his hand outstretched, waiting for yours.

“Always.” You smile, taking his hand.

As he leads you out of the bungalow you feel your breath catch in your throat. If you thought the beach was beautiful before, you’re not sure quite what word you would describe it as now. He has had the beach lined with lights and candles, torches lining their way up to a beautifully set yet simple table. You can see that there’s a meal already waiting for the two of you on the table.

“Still trust me?” He asks quietly.

You just nod, looking around at the beautiful scenery, amazed that he made all of this happen. When you finally reach the table in the sand he is pulling your chair out for you.

“Madame.” He says playfully, gesturing for you to take a seat.

You giggle as he places a kiss to your cheek, moving around to his side of the table. He grabs the corkscrew off the table, taking the bottle of wine that was already waiting for the two of you.

“I wanted tonight to be special, and I wanted to be able to surprise you somehow. Sorry I locked you away for a bit.” He chuckles toward the end.

“Ah, how dare you lock me away in literal paradise.” You tease him, making him smile.

“You like it?” He asks and you can tell he’s nervous, not meeting your eyes as he pours you both a glass of wine.

“I love it Lew, it’s beautiful, thank you.” You tell him, reaching across the table to take his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I wasn’t sure how to exactly pull off making you dinner without you noticing so I kind of cheated and hired someone, well I actually hired Mariana, she’s quite the cook. She was upset she couldn’t come in and see you, I promised we’d come see her later this week. I did the lights though.” You can tell he’s still nervous, rambling things quickly.

“Well I have to say the lights are incredible, and I’d love to go see them.” You say with a light tone but absolutely meaning it, you feel like you're in some sort of wonderland.

He finally pulls the cover off of your meals, making your mouth immediately water, it looks incredible. Lewis has taken you on endless incredible dates, but this one has to take the cake, the effort alone making you swoon. 

Once he is convinced that you are just as happy as you say you are, you can see him visibly relax. His whole demeanor shifting back to the light hearted, loving man that you know so well. Dinner carries on as usual, your conversations seamlessly going from joking banter to important life topics, the flow that you’ve always found yourself so comfortable in with him, even before you started dating. Once you’ve finished eating he’s bringing his seat closer to yours so he can wrap his arm around the back of your chair, pulling you into his warm side.

“You know last night when I asked where you wanted to be in five years?” He asks you quietly.

You hum, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Well, I left something out of my answer.” He says, confusing you. “I know I said I wanted you by my side, obviously, but I didn’t really elaborate enough.” He’s only confused you further.

Before you can question him, he’s standing from his seat and moving his chair back. You swear your heart stops when you look at him. He’s down on one knee in front of you, reaching into his pocket.

“Lew.” You croak out, not sure what else to say.

“I know, I know that to every other person on the earth, this probably seems insane. It probably seems so fucking quick, and hell it is, but Y/N, I know what I want, and what I want is you, forever. I have loved you far longer than I’ve ever let you know and I think the same goes for you. Since the day I met you I knew that you were going to be monumental in my life somehow, I just didn’t realize exactly how or quite how much. I love you more than I have ever loved anything before, I love you in a way I didn’t know was possible, in a way I didn’t even know I was capable of.” He pauses for a moment, finally opening the small box in his hand to reveal the most beautiful ring you have ever seen in your life, “I’m not asking you to marry me tomorrow, we can still take our time, we have so much ahead of us. All I’m asking is that tonight you make me a promise, that one day you will be my wife. You’re my forever Y/N Y/L/N, let me be yours.”

There are tears streaming steadily down your face, not sure how to process everything he’s saying. You want to nod your head, you want to say yes, but you’re frozen, until those words finally slip through his lips.

“Y/N, baby, will you marry me?” His own voice catches in his throat as he asks the question, obviously nervous and overwhelmed.

“Yes,” you finally choke out, “oh my god of course, yes, fuck of course.”

Your cries are now turning into almost laughter, overjoyed and overrun with emotion.

“Yeah?” He asks, sounding as if he doesn’t truly believe what he’s hearing.

“Oh my god, yes.” You cry through your smile as he stays frozen on his knee, his face breaking into a smile. “Kiss me you idiot.” You laugh.

Within seconds his lips are on yours, pulling you up out of your chair to hold you as close as humanly possible. You can taste the salt of your combined tears as you both laugh into the kiss, giddy with excitement.

“I know it’s so quick but I feel like we’ve been together so much longer than we really have. We can wait as long as you want, there’s absolutely no rush. I just need to know that one day you’ll be my wife, and I want the world to know that too.” He rambles when he finally pulls away.

“I know, I know, of course,” you laugh, kissing him again, “now give me my ring!”

He laughs at you, fumbling with the box slightly through shaky hands before finally sliding the ring onto your finger. It fits perfectly and you can’t help but wonder if Charlotte helped him. The diamonds twinkle in the fairy lights surrounding your table as you admire the look of your engagement ring sitting on your finger.

“So do I have to wait to become Mrs. Hamilton?” You ask.

“Y/N, I would marry you tomorrow if you let me.” He says, kissing you again, your teeth clashing through your smiles.

“What were you going to do if I said no?” You ask him with a teasing tone.

“Honestly? I have no idea, but I was pretty confident you’d say yes.” He says, smirking.

“Is this why you needed to bring me back here?” You ask him, staring at your new ring.

“Yeah, it only felt right. Full circle.” He whispers, “This is also why I’ve been so awol recently. I was making last minute changes to the ring because it needed to be perfect and I was trying to plan this. I’ve been so excited and I know myself well enough to know that I would have let it slip if I was talking to you too much. I’ve never been able to lie to you.”

You can’t help but laugh at the fact that not only is that true, but the reason you had been so annoyed with him the last few weeks was actually a side effect of him planning the most beautiful, loving thing you could think of.

“Everybody knows, don’t they?” You giggle, knowing he wouldn’t have been able to keep it from at least Charlotte and Miles.

“Yeah, they’ve known for a while, longer than I’ve even had the ring.” He blushes.

“Lewis, I love you so much. Thank you, I can’t wait to marry you, I’m so glad you’re the man that will be by my side for the rest of my life.” You tell him sincerely, feeling yourself get emotional again at the thought.

“I love you too my darling, I wouldn’t dream of going through life with anyone else.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Final Note: I had to stop myself from continuing on with this and adding a time jump and their wedding day, it was so tempting. Let me know, does anyone want a one shot of their wedding day at some point? Some cute pre-wedding jitters, vows, wedding night, etc?

I hope you all enjoyed!

[theliteraryarchitect]

Hi! I wanted to say, I read that you are a professional editor, and think it's amazing! You also give very logical and well explained advice. I was wondering; would you say being an editor is a job you can support yourself with? I actually aspire to become one someday, but I'm not exactly sure if it's a good plan.

Thank you for your time, and I hope you have a good day/night

Hey there. Great question. It's totally possible to support yourself as an editor. I've done it, and so have other editors I know. However there are a few important things to consider before choosing editing as a career path.

Your chances of being a self-employed freelancer are extremely high. The number of in-house editing jobs in publishing are low and getting lower. While being self employed can give you a certain amount of flexibility, it also comes along with a lot of hustle and hassle, namely fluctuating income, a stupid amount of confusing tax paperwork, and the need to constantly promote yourself to clients in order to maintain steady work.

You probably won't make as much money as you'd think. Editing is one of the many skilled jobs that suffers from market saturation, which has sadly driven down the price the average client is willing to pay for editing services. I can't tell you the number of overqualified editors I know charging barely more than minimum wage for their work. Personally I've stuck to my guns about charging what I'm worth, but I've sometimes suffered by not having as much work as my colleagues who charge less.

Robots have already chipped away at the future of editing as a human occupation, and will continue to do so at exponential speed in the years ahead. They will never obliterate the job completely, as there will always be humans who prefer to work with humans instead of machines. But the outlook will become ever bleaker as more humans compete for fewer gigs, which in turn will drive down prices even further.

If you are also a writer, editing may adversely affect your writing. I don't mean that you'll become a worse writer, quite the opposite. My editing work has brought new depths to my writing, and I'm grateful for all I've learned by working with my clients. However, editing takes time, uses creative energy, and requires staring at a screen (or paper), and personally the more I edit, the less time/creativity/screen-staring capabilities I have left for my own writing.

If you mention you're an editor, someone will troll your post for a typo, grammatical error, or misused word, and then triumphantly point it out to you in the comments. This is mostly a joke. But it does happen every single time.

I hope this hasn't been too discouraging. If you feel a true passion for editing and really enjoy the work, none of the above should dissuade you. However, if you think you might be happy in any number of occupations, I'd honestly advise you to explore other options. Choosing a career path at this point in history is a gamble no matter what, but the outlook for editors is especially grim.

If you'd like to work with writers and aren't attached to being an editor, there are a few jobs (still freelance) that I believe will survive the coming robot apocalypse. Do a little Google research about "book coaches," "writing coaches," or "book doulas." These are people who act primarily as emotional supporters and logistical helpers for writers who are trying to get their book published or self published. Some of them do actual editing, but many do not, and due to the therapeutic nature of their work I believe they will flourish longer than editors in the coming robot apocalypse.

If you do explore editing as a path, the further away you can lean from spelling and grammar (e.g. proofreader or copyeditor), the longer your skills will be useful when competing with robots. AI still struggles to offer the same kind of nuanced, story-level feedback that a human can give. (Speaking from experience here--I'm a developmental editor and have yet to see a dent in my workload because of robots.) They'll catch up eventually, but it could be a while, and as long as there are human readers, there will always be humans who are willing to pay for a human perspective on their writing. Human spell checkers maybe not so much.

Hope this helps!