#the joke is that the original photo had him holding a glass of champagne

[barachiki]

Lestrade mulls things over with his cat, Prosecco.

the #Lestrade_with_a_kitten tag where you can learn about cats, Lestrade and other such nonsense!

[idyllcys]

"Let's get married"

word count: 4.5k || deleted from idyllcy

warnings: suicide attempt, domestic abuse + mentions of familial rape (reader's side (both) (nothing is detailed as usual but y'know like warning)

summary: there is still so much to live for.

It's amusing. Really.

Tim could have expected a thousand other reasons for his soulmate asking him out at first meeting, but whatever was going on currently was not it.

"Let's get married." He's sixteen for fuck's sake. Also. Why the fuck is it at a Wayne gala?

"Can't. I’m not 18." Tim blinks at the stranger. "That and also I'm seeing someone."

"I'm not surprised." You click your tongue, a much too expensive dress hugging your figure and a filthily costly necklace around your neck. "That's not an excuse, and that's not why I'm asking."

"Then what is?"

"Company marriage. Even if you don't want to," You snap your fingers. "Your father had promised mine we'd wed."

"I'm adopted now." Tim shakes his head.

"Yeah, and my dad is talking to your new dad about your biological dad's deal." You reach for a glass of champagne. "Want one?"

"Explain."

"When your father first started his business, mine helped him out." You sigh. "One of the terms on the contract," You scroll through your phone, stopping on a photo. "Was that you and I would wed to merge the companies eventually. My father originally didn't care about it, but since you're a Wayne now... he wants it done. I don't care if you cheat, by the way. All I need is the title of your wife so I can move out of my scumbag of a father's house."

"Would it still be cheating in a contract marriage?"

"Yeah." You smile as Bruce walks over with your dad. "How was it, daddy?"

"Bruce here is alright with the marriage as long as Timothy is."

You turn to look at Tim.

"Let me think about it." Tim sighs. "Bruce, you know I don't want anything more related to the company."

You watch as he's led off, and you brace yourself for your father's words.

You're met with a loud slap instead, cheek throbbing as you hold it, eyes wide.

You notice everyone at the gala turn to look at you, eyes hard, hatred. It's always this. You've grown used to being shamed like this, yet you're desperate to get out. Your father is a great man. A great. Man. Your father, who beat you when frustrated and locked you up when you made a mistake, was a great man. You wonder what a man who was better than your dad was like. You hear him inhale to start yelling at you. Before he can speak, someone pulls on your wrist, stepping in front of you.

"I'll do the marriage." Tim's voice cuts in, pulling you behind him. "If it'll get you to stop abusing your daughter in the name of fatherly love, then I'll do the marriage, but we are writing the terms."

"I'm glad we can agree on something, Mister Wayne." Your father smiles. Filthy man.

You grimace at the use of Wayne instead of Drake.

Tim doesn't move, and you know what happens next.

"I'll set up a proper meeting for the two of you." Your father smiles, reaching for your other arm. "We'll be retiring for the night."

"Oh, she'll be staying with me. She's legally obligated to." Tim smiles threateningly. "Soulmate laws."

Right.

"Oh?" Your father sounds delighted. "Then she's all yours."

Your father walks off, the clicks of his dress shoes obnoxiously loud against the tile of the gala hall. Tim turns around to look at you once they finish, prying your hand from your cheek, eyes gentle. You grimace at him. Just because you got hit? You expected it to take more for him to feel bad for you. Not your problem. Not when you'd just blow your dad's card buying another apartment again.

"What happened to seeing someone else?" You joke, fishing a mirror out to check the damage.

"Are you alright?"

"He does it every gala." You fish out your powder from your purse, patting the redness away. "It's not much. I wasn't expecting you to stake your claim on our soulmate bond so quickly."

"I thought I'd chase you away if I told you I was seeing someone." Tim mumbles, glancing at your wrist.

"I thought you had that thing going on with... blondie?"

"Broke up a bit ago." He pauses, looking back up. "how'd you know?"

"This isn't the first time you've spoken to me." You grumble. "the fact that you're my soulmate only means one thing to me."

Tim raises a brow as you mouth the words to him.

You're promptly dragged off, Tim telling Bruce that he was retiring for the night, grip around your wrist tight, storming out of the hall, closing the door behind the two of you as the two of you make it into an empty room, Tim slamming the door behind him.

"How."

"My words from you?" You hold up your wrist, sky blue words, blue matching the color of Tim's eyes.

"Are you alright?" Tim frowns. "Those were not my first words to you."

"They were Robin's." You stare into his eyes, eyes tired. "Robin's day identity is a mystery, and since your words are in the color of my eye, we're soulmates. My father's probably going to want you to register the mark with me as soon as possible to put the bond in stone." You sigh, unclasping the necklace. "Could you take me to the room I'll be staying in?"

"All it took was a soulmate bond?"

You frown at him. "And catching you taking off your mask."

Tim freezes, raising a brow. "I haven't—"

You shrug, reaching for the doorknob. "My room?"

"Stay in mine." He sighs. "We'll talk later. Bruce wants me back."

"Alright." You follow behind him, dropping the necklace on the drawer as you start stripping.

"A-are you just?"

"Wanna jump my bones?" You raise a brow. "We're soulmates. Anything you do to me would have a blind eye turned on it."

Tim pinches the bridge of his nose, rummaging through the closet. "Shirt and shorts to change into."

"Do you have patrol tonight?"

"Bruce is probably—"

"Bruce Wayne is Batman?!" You blink rapidly, brows furrowed.

"You... didn't figure that out?"

"No." You frown. "I only found out you were Robin when you called me your soulmate."

Tim curses under his breath. "I'll probably be told to take the night off. If I'm not back by twelve, assume I'm patrolling. Don't wait for me to go to sleep."

"Wasn't planning on it." You mumble, shutting the bathroom door behind you.

Tim has his mark registered with you the next morning, words on your wrists, exhaustion all over your face. You couldn't sleep well despite the soft sheets and warm blankets. You think it has something to do with the fact that it wasn't your bed. You'd kill to be back in your own apartment right now. Yet, as you stand in the elevator in the government building, you think you're going to kill someone. Maybe you'd get jailed by your soulmate for it too.

"You look elated to be here." Tim mumbles.

"Sure." You grumble under your breath. "Didn't get good sleep last night."

"Why?"

"Miss my bed." You grumble. "Just our words, right?"

"Your father dropped off all of your documents this morning. You're covered."

"Hate that man," You groan as the elevator signals your arrival, following after Tim. "Abusive fucker."

"Mister Drake." The man smiles.

"Let's get this over with."

"Is it romantic of platonic?"

"Romantic." You sigh, handing him your passport, holding out your wrist. "Get this over with, please."

"Usually people are more... excited to register their bonds."

"I'm running on two hours of sleep." You glare at the man. "Make haste."

"We will."

Both you and Tim step out of the government building into his car, and you click on your watch.

"Business?"

"I run the company since my dad doesn't now." You grumble, fishing out an earpiece, pulling down the vanity mirror as you pull out a bag of cosmetics. "Can you drive steady?"

"I can try."

"Alright." You start on your makeup, answering the call as you do. "No, Vanessa. I'm running late because I was registering my soulmate bond... Yes, I'll be on time for the company meeting. No, you are not meeting my soulmate." The makeup in your bag clinks as you finish with the base. "Yes, the file is in the shared drive. Vanessa, are you calling me because you're worried you forgot something again? I thought you were my aide."

Tim stops at a red light.

You pull out the lipstick and finish your makeup. "Yeah. I'm like two minutes away. Don't greet me downstairs. My soulmate's sending me and I don't want you to faint from seeing him."

Tim raises a brow at you as he starts the car again.

"No. It's obviously because he's hot as hell." You deadpan. "He's another high profile person. You'll faint upon seeing him. We have a meeting and I can't send you to the hospital over something like this."

Tim stops at your company, and you smile at him while clicking mute. "Thank you."

"Should I pick you up after work?"

"I need to get stuff from my apartment."

"I can take you there."

"If you'd like." You hum. "I'll let you know when I'm free to draft a contract."

"I'll have my aide send you my schedule too."

You nod, stepping out of the car, going back to your phone. Tim watches as you leave, heading to his own company.

"Vanessa, babe—" You start, barely paying attention.

"Your soulmate is Tim Drake?" She holds her phone up for you to see.

"Well the media caught onto that fucking fast." You grimace. "The meeting's with WE, right?"

"You'll see your soulmate?"

"Usually it's Lucius." You grimace. "Not Tim."

"You should make him do it."

"I am NOT doing that." You sigh, opening the door to your office. "Where's my curling iron?"

"Second shelf on the right by the door." Vanessa clicks on her iPad. "Other than the meeting, there's nothing else."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nothing."

You frown. "And tomorrow?"

"Your father cleared your schedule."

You curse under your breath, plugging in the iron to start on your hair. "Anything else I need to know about my father?"

"Rushing for the marriage."

"I've literally just met the man." You grimace.

"You have an opening today, would you like to let Mister Drake know about it?"

"I.. don't have his number." You purse your lips. "Shit."

"Then?"

"I hope he's at the WE meeting." You sigh. "Bring my laptop. We'll draft the contract there."

"Got it."

You show up at the Wayne Tower, two buildings down from yours, sunglasses pushed up your head as you're lead to the meeting room, files in hand. You're sure your laptop would come in more handy, but you don't care. Especially not when more than half of the employees are staring at you with the same question in mind. Are the tabloids telling the truth? You don't give them an answer. Your publicist will.

"Pleasure," You smile, shaking hands with the man. "I was told the CEO would be here?"

"Mister Drake is here instead." He smiles, placing a hand on your lower back, leading you into the room. You hate men like that.

"Hands off my soulmate." Tim smiles, pulling you away from the man gently. "Only I get to touch them like that."

"Publicist?" You mumble under your breath.

"Yeah." He whispers back.

You place a hand on Tim's chest as he pulls you in, lips pressed to your cheek.

"How was your morning?" His voice is overly sweet— like a poison that would taste despicable.

"I was busy getting ready for the meeting." You smile. "Wanted to look good for you."

"Well, I think you look gorgeous regardless of whether or not you try."

You want to hurl.

The two of you sit down, fingers drumming the table as you hand him the files.

The meeting goes as well as you had expected it to. The collaboration is approved, and the meeting wraps up. You almost forget about the whole contract until Vanessa speaks up.

"Mister Drake, a moment, please?" She smiles, handing you your laptop.

"Forgot." You groan. "Do you have time after this?"

"The rest of my day is clear."

"Then let's get drafting." You mumble, opening your laptop.

"My publicist wants us in public." Tim sighs. "Coffee shop?"

"I'd be more than willing." You mumble. "We're a little overdressed for a coffee shop, though."

"Suits are not uncommon in Gotham." He hums. "I'll drive. Is your schedule clear for the rest of the day?"

"Yes."

"I'll take you to your apartment after this." He sighs. "Perfect excuse to get out of here. Had it not been with your company, I wouldn't have come to work today."

"I'm honored."

"Hand." He holds out his hand for you, and you tilt your head at him. "Publicity."

"Fucking hate being a public figure." You grumble under your breath, taking his hand. "Until the car?"

"Yeah."

"Do we... talk?"

"Coffee."

You fucking hate this.

"Heard it's good." Tim mumbles, the two of you stepping out.

"Yeah? I had a friend tell me the coffee was heaven in a cup." You laugh. "What's your usual order?"

"Espresso shots."

"You need to do something that isn't drinking coffee until you overdose from caffeine." You smack him playfully, feigning a frown.

"Sorry, sweetie." He chuckles.

You can feel the stares of his employees as the two of you step into the elevator, grimacing as you do, the people disappearing.

"You ever dated?"

"Was seeing someone until you popped up." Tim mumbles. "You?"

"Father would have killed me if I even looked at a man." You grimace.

"So you've never done anything?"

You pause, pressing your fingers to your lips. "To the media."

"And in private affairs?"

"I've had a solid amount of hookups." You flash a smile at him, taking his hand as the elevator door opens.

Tim wonders if all the other rich kids are like this. Innocent on paper, a devil off the media. There were tons of rich people who were doing things for their images, but only their images. He doesn't want to think of all the clubs where the rich kids were hooking up and doing illegal things. He wonders if you've ever been a part of it. He glances at you as you pull on the seatbelt of his car.

You raise a brow at him. "Wondering if I'm part of the Billionaires Kids club?"

"How'd you know?"

"You get eerily good at reading people in an abusive household." You touch up your makeup. "I'm not. I've been inside it once or twice because of my father's connections, but I've never been an official member."

"They should really get something better to do than pulling the poor inside for their own pleasure."

You hold back your opinion on the matter. It was illegal, but it was the quickest way out of poverty. You had to pick between morals on the matter, not that Tim would understand.

"You should get a better publicist." You smile playfully.

"Think mine's bad?"

"There's no reason we should be holding hands and being so buddy buddy so early on when we just discovered we're soulmates." You mumble. "My publicist only told me to do what I deemed fit."

"You can act cold, you know?" Tim hums. "My publicist wants to erase all the rumors that I was dating a random girl a while back through our soulmate link. He wants me to look like I'm pathetically in love with you."

You raise a brow. "Yeah?"

"You look like you're about to make this hell for me."

"It'd definitely help my dad think you're enamored with me like he wanted you to be that night I was wearing a necklace worth a mansion." You chuckle. "Open my door for me when we arrive."

"The internet loves pathetic men."

"Yeah." You laugh. "You'll get all the capcut template edits."

"And the twitter posts?"

"God, if my soulmate doesn't look at me like this, I don't want it." You quote. "Ughhhh why can't I have a billionaire as my soulmate!!!"

Tim laughs dryly.

"It would be funnier if you dropped by my apartment every day as Robin and got caught by the media." You hum in amusement. "God, why can't Red Robin look at me like that?"

"The media is already having a field day."

"I'm aware." You hum. "In the cafe?"

"Bring your laptop."

"Got it."

Tim steps out first, opening the door for you with a hand out, the two of you walking in, hand in hand.

"What's your coffee order?"

"Iced latte. Oat milk, please."

"Are you lactose intolerant?"

"No. Just like oat milk better."

"Get us a seat. I'll order." Tim smiles at you, and you nod.

You can already hear the cameras. You open your laptop, glancing at the original document for the marriage contract, and you click through, erasing old terms, putting in terms of your own, tapping on the laptop as Tim comes with your coffee orders.

"Typing your terms?"

"Yeah." You mumble. "Don't know if I should put a no sex clause."

"Don't. There's too much possible development between the two of us." Tim mumbles. "Who knows."

"What's the word... falling in love over time." You mutter. "Here. You can add a couple of clauses and let me know if it works."

Tim scans over the document, drumming his fingers against the table, exhaling as he mumbles.

"Hm?"

"Looks good." He smiles. "Anything for you."

(You fight the urge to gag.)

God, are the paparazzi going to have a field day with how Tim looks at you.

"Very well." You smile. "If anyone asks, it's a prenup."

"Yes." He hums, eyeing the paparazzi through the glass. "Shall we go to your place?"

"Sure." You mumble. "They're still there, huh?"

"They are a little obsessed with you, I will say." Tim hums, holding his hand out for you.

You sigh. "Very well. It's what I get for being my father's daughter."

Tim does not know what to expect upon entering your apartment. You live in a penthouse with two floors, yet from head to toe, the apartment was furnished childishly. As if you had brought a child's drawing to life, the apartment was colored vibrantly. Figures decorated the glass casings, two cats greeting him at the door, the lights turning on with a simple command of your voice. You offer him something to drink, pointing at the fridge.

"Did you design this place?"

"Yes." You hum. "I found drawings from when I was a child and decided to use it as inspiration for this place. I do hope you will let me keep it during our marriage."

"Of course." Tim mumbles. "Do you wish for a wedding?"

"My father does." You slide open a door, stepping in. "I have a suitcase with a copy of everything I use in the house. That will make do for now."

"Do you not want to move any of the figures?"

"My past self is satisfied. It's my turn to live out what she was trying to avoid." You hum. "My maid comes and cleans every week. My valuables..." You pull open a drawer, scanning your thumb and eye, typing in a pin. "I'll take all of these and then it'll be farewell."

"You can come back whenever, you know? We don't need to live together all the time."

"My father will mind." You pull everything into your bag. "So?"

"Will you be free from him when you get married?" Tim stares at you, picking up a paper from the table, reading through it.

You pause to think.

"Yes. Because there is only one ending worse than his death to him." You smile. "It is for me to be free."

"Does he value you that much?"

You turn to him, eyes turning dead. "My father raped me the night I turned eighteen. The night after I fled from the mansion, you told me to go home. You would not remember, but I sure as hell did. You must be wondering what kind of a man would rape their own daughter." You laugh dryly, exhaling with a laugh. "My father raped me because I look eerily like my own mother. In his own delusion, he decided that raping his daughter to make up for his wife who had committed suicide in front of his eyes was the best choice. Who would pick up a woman who was defiled by the hands of her own father other than her soulmate who would have to?"

Tim reaches for you as you take a step back.

"So listen well, Timothy Wayne." You continue laughing. "I'm going to use you as a shield, and when I finally, finally get to run away, you will be left to suffer all of the punishments that I am supposed to take. BUT!" You smile. "You won't suffer it because you're a higher rank than me in the socialite lifestyle. So. I will use you until you're left dry, empty, standing on the top of the world, only for you to be alone. But no worries." You hum. "You'll find someone after me, I promise."

"I would be shunned." Tim stares at you.

"Oh? You would not." You hum. "No one dares to speak ill of the Waynes." You open your window, getting onto the windowsill.

"No." Tim steps toward you, one, two, one, two. "Don't."

"This is freedom, Tim, and I'm going to shackle you with the grief of losing someone you barely got to know." You smile. "I'm going to burden you with the pain that comes after losing a soulmate, so watch closely."

"You're not in your right mi—"

Tim races to the window as you fall backward, eyes staring into his soul, and he doesn't think twice. He can't believe keeping his Robin suit under his work suit was a smart decision. He jumps through the window after you without second thought, adjusting his body to fall down faster, grabbing you by the waist as he launches the grapple, heart racing as you hit him, screaming at him to let you go. You bite and dig your nails into him, thrashing in his grip as you try and fall again, crying about how you needed it and he didn't understand.

"You're the one who doesn't understand! How is a human life worth so little in your eyes!" Tim yells at you, holding you down on a random roof.

"Then what is it supposed to be worth?! I'm fulfilling the one wish of mine since I've been a kid!" You yell back at him, tensing and trying to break from his grip. "I've granted every wish of mine except for that, so why does it matter!"

"YOU STILL HAVEN'T EXPERIENCED BEING LOVED!" Tim yells. "That was the one—"

"THAT ONE IS POINTLESS!" You scream, crying. "I can't be loved, fucking dammit! My father's raised the most worthless bitch in the world! What is there to be loved about for me?! Now, let me go and let me die, you useless hero!"

"I'm not letting someone die! I'm going to get benched forever and I don't want that!" Tim yells.

You stop, scoffing. "You won't let me die because you don't want to be benched?! You're an adult, for fuck's sake! Do what you fucking want!"

"Then why aren't you doing what you want?"

"I was until you stopped me!" You sob, voice cracking. "Let me die, goddammit!"

"You haven't... finished." Tim collapses on top of you, voice weak. "You never finished your list."

"The only thing left on it was to be loved." You mumble. "That didn't matter. I was loved by my friends."

"Whom you called fake."

"And my mother." You pause.

"Who despised you at the same time."

"Okay, boy wonder, that just sounds like stalking." You deadpan. "What about my sister?"

"Okay, yeah, she counts." Tim mumbles. "But she also feels hurt that you would try and carry the entire weight of the family's sins on yourself just because you didn't want her to get touched."

"Okay, damn, stalker." You sigh. "Will you get off of me if I say I won't kill myself? You're heavy."

"I am not—"

"You have armor on." You hiss.

Tim rolls off of you as you get up to scramble for the edge again, and he grabs you by the ankle.

"I'm breaking your ankle if you try jumping off."

"WHY IS YOUR GRIP STRENGTH SO STRONG?!" You shriek, trying to kick your foot free from him.

"B has more than just arm strength in his daily routine for us." Tim manages through his teeth. "I'll lock you up in the basement if I really have to."

"In the fucking cave?! Absolutely not!" You shriek. "God, why won't you fucking let me die?!"

"I'm not dealing with the leftover grief you're going to force me to feel, you dumbass!" He yells. "Did you forget that neither of us are adults?! My parents may have died and I may have cried buckets, but I'm not stupid enough to let myself go through that again! Do you know how much my father cried when he lost my mom?!"

"Your father remarried! My dad shoved it in my face all the time when he thought about our engagement!" You yell. "My father told me that if I were to just die off the face of the earth, you wouldn't give two shits about me! You didn't even know our engagement existed until I talked to you at the gala!"

"Because my father died before he could tell me!"

"Okay, damn. Did you not read through any of your family's business documents, little genius?!" You grumble. "They should've been in there somewhere."

"Dad burned most of the documents when he declared the company as bankrupt."

"Oh, I'd rather die at this point." You sigh. "Can't you just let me kill myself? How about this, you drop me off at my place tomorrow, and I just kill myself."

"Do you know how much the public is going to hate me over it?!"

"Not. My. Problem." You stick your tongue out at him. "Does it look like I give a fuck?"

"You really should, you know, moral obligation, as my soulmate."

"Congrats. Your soulmate doesn't have a moral code." You grimace in disgust. "Now, will you let go of my ankle? It's going to bruise."

Tim pulls you backward, catching you as you fall into his arms, frowning. "No. I'm keeping you in my arms until you hate me."

"I already do. Let me down."

"Oh, then until you love me."

You gag obnoxiously loud in his arms.

"Until the day we're both old and wrinkly." Tim hums. "Then I will let you down."

"Ew. Is this why you pulled so much?" You grimace. "Your words are nasty."

"Maybe you will learn to love me through the time." Tim shrugs, opening the door to the apartment complex. "And maybe you'll find that there is love without conditions."

"How pathetic." You scoff. "In this day and age?"

"Love has pursued past all of the centuries humans have been alive for." Tim shrugs. "Maybe you will find peace with me."

"Worth a shot." You hum, laughing. "Maybe it'll hurt more if I just kill myself in front of you after you fall for me."

"Maybe." Tim mumbles. "But it would be worth the try. for you."

[interstellarrambles]

Hii, I noticed most people in a fandom usually make the exes the villain of the story a lot. We often forget they’re real people who once were in a seemingly loving relationship with our idols. So I wanted to know if you could write something with Harry where the reader goes to an award show with him or something like that, he leaves her for a while, she meets one of his exes, maybe kendall or Camille, who knows, And at first is afraid and insecure but they end up really getting along. thankss

heya, damn I'm sorry this took so long but studying was kicking my ass not gonna lie. I hope you all enjoy this, I did take my time!

EDIT: originally, this fic used Harry's ex, camille rowe, but a user on here made me aware that she isn't the best person and has made mistakes in the past. I don't condone her actions and therefore, I edited the fic to include kendall jenner instead who is problematic in her own right, but perhaps less severely.

harry styles x female!reader

nervous. hs.

silk dripped across your skin, slipping down from your chest to the floor, covering your pounding heart with a dress more expensive than you could imagine. only the best, your boyfriend had insisted, kissing your shoulder as he adjusted your necklace, the only detail your stylist had allowed him any access to. not in a cruel way of course; simply put, harry was more clumsy than most for all his calm demeanour, and she hadn't wanted him to endanger your chance of looking as perfect as possible for your first red carpet appearance.

all in all, you were ready. kind of. the outfit and makeup was complete and with your (perfect) boyfriend accompanying your side, you should have been ready to face anything. however, while having your hair styled, you had found out one of harry's exes would be at the event and needless to say, you were sort of shitting it.

everyone knew how perfect kendall was, and from his latest album, it was clear harry thought the same.

in reality, you knew harry wanted you and you only, since he tried relentlessly to show you how dear you were to him, but your insecurities couldn't quite keep up. only a few months ago, you had received a follow from kendall, something you found quite comforting in moments like these, as the action had been translated to you as an olive branch of sorts. comfortingly sweet and gentle, kendall just seemed so beautifully present and put together, that if there wasn't such weird history between the two of you, you'd want to be her friend.

before you could become completely submerged in your thoughts, a warm hand slipped onto your thigh, squeezing gently. small smirk on his lips, harry leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek, admiring your reflection in the mirror. cocky as ever, harry smirked as he watched your body react quickly to his firm touch, goosebumps spreading across your skin.

"we're off soon love, how are you feeling?" his gruff eased a few knots of anxiety in your stomach, and smiling, you reached for his hand to hold. tattooed, studded with silver rings and broken up by veins, you'd always admired how beautiful his hands were, and it was beyond heavenly to be able to hold them.

"not too bad harry, just a little scared. you know how it is," you replied while standing up on the command of his assistant, who announced it was time to go. still holding his hands, you felt a hot blush tickle your cheeks as he kissed your knuckles and raked his eyes over you. dropping his gaze then slowly raising it with a cheeky grin, harry quickly admired how you looked, a sentiment shared by you as you watched him stand and adjust his suit.

"if anyone should be nervous, it's me, with you looking like that doll."

after arriving at the event and fighting your way through the endless photos and inappropriate paparazzi questions, you'd stolen a moment together somewhere in the corner. both of you were slightly giddy and had nicked tequila shots on the way, so choking back the giggles in your throat was too hard to bother with. harry loved this side of you, the one that meshed well with his childish personality and encouraged his antics.

without pondering on this too much, his previous tequila consumption was making him consider how much trouble he'd get into if he made out with you right there, in front of everyone. after cracking another terrible joke and staring at your lips for way too long to be not creepy, he decided to continue regardless.

foolishly though, harry had been so caught up enjoying the feel of your body under his hands, with your lips against his, that he forgot he was supposed to be making his way backstage for his performance. his assistant looked on with a mix of annoyance and admiration, yet even the warming of their heart was not enough to hold them back from interrupting you.

"harry, I hate to do this, but you're needed backstage, they need you to be ready for your performance."

this prompted a step back from harry, and a deep blush from you, mildly hid by your makeup. as a parting gift, you pulled him closer for a hug, and one last kiss on his jawline, for good luck, one that struck a small groan from the back of his throat involuntarily.

almost in a daze, harry ran his fingers across where your lips had been, and rushed off giddily. half awoken from your previous love drunk stupor, you followed your assistant to where your seats were, and took your place pitifully all alone at an empty table.

swilling the complimentary champagne around the glass in your hand, you raked the crowd around you for anyone you might know, hoping someone would rescue you from your loneliness before it began looking pathetic. a few moments passed and just as you were beginning to daze off, someone interrupted you.

"oh, excuse me? we haven't spoken yet I don't think, and I was wondering if I could steal a seat?" a familiar accent swarmed your silence, and a soft hand tapped on your shoulder, causing you to turn around quickly.

kendall looked absolutely stunning, her hair styled effortlessly and her figure accentuated wonderfully by her red dress, a number that dripped in a heavenly way against her skin, emulating perhaps the golden wonders of old Hollywood.

"oh sure, go ahead, there's no other takers," you giggle a little nervously, taking a small sip from your champagne.

as she sat and her skirts fanned out, you didn't see her friendly smile falter once, a fact that warmed your insides a little, as you sat bathed in your feelings of insufficiency.

"hey, I just didn't want you to feel lonely, and I saw you sat all by yourself! you look gorgeous by the way," she turned to face you now, swishing her skirts out the way and offering you another drink.

"oh wow, thank you! I guess I didn't want it to be weird between us, considering... you know."

"not at all! if you're happy and he is happy, that's all I care for. and you seem great, so I wanted to come and introduce myself properly. can I just say, you look amazing!"

slipping a few strands of hair behind your ear, you found yourself immersing fully into a playful conversation with the american girl immediately. her jokes were strange but her calm yet humorous nature eased the nerves in your stomach and helped you relax into the moment. the performances rattled along and you found that you enjoyed all the same musicians as her, getting excited at all the same moments. even when harry was on stage, her hand found yours and her heart warmed watching how the two of you locked eyes on each other letting the world around you disappear, even if it did seem sickeningly similar to a movie moment.

you had had nothing to worry about and with her soft hand slightly on top of yours on the table, with Harry singing on stage and trying to keep his eye on you in the crowd, you needed nothing more to be content.

[hattywatch]

J. Vesey - Love Songs Companion Piece

Originally posted by knosi

Author's Note: This is a companion piece to Love Songs. I don't think anyone needed or asked for this, but here it is, because when I was writing the first part, all I kept thinking was Kevin getting the photos of her dress and immediately texting Jimmy, so this is what you all ended up with. This is for @HockeyandTaylorSwift while she's off her feet for a while. Send her some love! Excuse the formatting, I did this in HTML

He doesn't get it. Doesn't get why she's crying, doesn't get why this is such a big deal, doesn't get why he's in a suit he hates and a tie he'd rather shove back in his closet, doesn't get why he's dropped a small fortune inside a $7 card from Target, but he knows it's the right thing to do… and there's an open bar. So here he is, sat in a pew in a church with no air conditioning with his best friend and his best friend's cousin, who he's had a crush on since puberty. 

  There's probably 100 other ways he'd rather spend his Saturday.

  When she sniffles, Jimmy can’t help but look over. He wants to roll his eyes, but he also wants to kiss her, so he settles for safe, leaving his gaze on the bride and groom- who are reading their vows off of the little index cards in their hand.

  Kevin chirps her and if he was waiting for an opening to talk to her, this is it. Jimmy leans in before he can stop himself, always caught in her orbit, "What are you even crying for? Shouldn't you be happy?" When she rolls her eyes, he wonders for a second if he's crossed a line, made her upset with him, but she catches his eye once more and gives him a watery smile while she blots at her tears so he's probably okay. 

  Cocktail hour is spent stood at a table, eating fancy cheeses that sound nicer than they taste, listening to Kevin and his cousin chat about nothing in particular. He interjects a few times when they bicker, taking her side over Kevin's, always. Finally everyone is funnelled into the main room for the reception. 

  Kevin's been scoping out this pretty bridesmaid since the second she walked down the aisle hours ago and it's all about to come to a head. "Well, I'm going to go make my move. My cousin is over at the bar," he points,"if you wanted to suddenly find your balls, man," he pats Jimmy on the shoulder sardonically. He hates that Kev's a little right, so he sneers but lets him walk away unharmed. 

  Jimmy eyes the table full of escort cards in the corner and scoops up his and hers, tucking them into his jacket pocket. Kevin can go get his on his own, since he wants to be a prick. It's probably time to take advantage of the open bar, and really, (y/n) is already over there, so two birds one stone and all. 

  In a moment of bravery, marked by clammy palms and a little bit of heartburn, he sidles up next to her at the bar. His hand gently slides along the smooth skin of her lower back, exposed by her dress. She looks over, and appears surprised to see him there. He's come this far, so he leans into her ear and plows through the best he can.

  "Hey, use your powers for good and get me a beer. I don't want to wait in line." She still seems a little shocked that he's there, but orders his beer anyway. It's not until he sees her throw a flirty smile at the bartender that he realizes he may be cramping her style and regrets it all, suddenly remorseful for taking Kevin's advice. 

  He doesn't think she knows where she should be, considering he has her table assignment in his pocket, so he leaves his hand where it lies and directs her towards their table, praying silently she can't feel the sweat on his palm and trying to figure out something to say. He's better at this in a group, but now all her attention is on him and it makes his skin prickle self consciously.

  "I grabbed yours too," is what he finally comes up with when he gets her to their table. Ivy league education and he can barely talk to the girl he likes. Pathetic. 

  "Thanks," she says to the floor as she finally kicks off her ridiculous heels. He wants to keep talking, make her laugh and smile and stay by his side all night. He's not sure what he could say that would have that effect, but it's probably not what he says next. 

  "Why do you wear those things if you can't even handle them for an hour?"

  He's not sure why he's always ribbing her. Probably because she always takes his joking in stride, always knows when he's kidding even though he stays stoic. She gets his humor, gets him, he thinks and his chest tightens unhelpfully.

  (Y/n) sits back up and clinks her champagne glass against his beer, unaffected by his question.

  "Because they make my ass look fantastic," that has him choking on his beer and he relaxes, drops his guard and unclenches his jaw. She makes him laugh, comfortable and loose, when usually he holds his emotions close to his chest. 

  She isn’t wrong about the heels, and he thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind that she may be flirting with him. Surely that's carte blanche to take a peek when she stands up. He’s not completely sure though, so he lets her drink her champagne in peace and watches Kevin.

  It must be nice to be Kevin, he thinks. Kevin doesn’t have a self conscious bone in his body- loud and unapologetic. He’s dancing like an idiot with that bridesmaid from earlier. Jimmy’s envious. He just walked right up to her, probably even said something stupid like, “Hey, I’m Kevin,” and now they’re like old friends, close on the dance floor. He’d never be able to do something so bold. Jimmy can’t help it, he’s always been a little more reserved, shy even- especially when she’s around.

  Not when he’s on the ice, though. He feels confident there at least. 

  He wishes he could take off his skates and helmet and not simultaneously undress himself of his confidence. He can feel her gaze on him. She’s sitting there, gently sipping from her flute, he doesn’t suspect that she knows he can feel her stare. 

  She's been around forever. He remembers when they were young, hanging out in the bleachers hip to hip watching Kevin skate around, cheering for the older boy's team. He remembers when he hit puberty, suddenly becoming more self-conscious around girls and slowly realizing that he liked her differently. It was warm and it started somewhere around his chest and dripped down his whole body, heating him up and tying his tongue. Whenever she came around he always lost his edges, stumbling over himself. 

  The beer is settling his nerves a little, so he bucks up and says what's on his mind. "I don't get this whole thing," he waves his hand around, at the room in general. 

  She looks confused and rolls her hand on her wrist, asking him to continue. 

He breathes deep, relaxing at the idea of a normal conversation. This he can do, he's good at having opinions, good at engaging in a little debate, not so good at being cool and smooth, but he'll work with what he has. 

  "Seems like a lot of pomp and circumstance to prove you love someone." She laughs and that's not exactly the response he was expecting, but he'd play the fool forever if it meant he'd always get to see her like this, eyes scrunched and nose crinkled, smile spanning her face.

  "Jimmy, sometimes when two people really like each other they just wanna shout it from the rooftops." He rolls his eyes, but she looks like she really believes it. The way she’s looking at him right now, he’s pretty sure he could be convinced to make his way to the rooftop with a megaphone himself. 

  Kevin sinks down next to her, sweaty and breathless, "I think I'm in love," his eyes are still focused on the bridesmaid. She knows what she’s doing, peering back at him flirtatiously as she dances with the flower girls. (Y/n)'s eyes shine with the knowledge that she's won. 

  "Case and point, my friend."

  He honestly just needs a minute. Sitting here with her is overwhelming. She's too much: too beautiful, too funny, too sweet, and probably too perceptive. She has to know he's different with her around, less cool, less calm, and less smart. So, he finishes his beer and -like everything he does in life- coats himself in a thin layer of sarcasm, "Had about enough of you softies," before getting up and heading over to the bar. He doesn't turn back to see if she's watching him, she probably forgot the second he walked away. 

  The bartender knows his order and hands him another beer, but looks past Jimmy for something else, "Where's your girl?" 

Jimmy likes the way that sounds, so he can't bring himself to correct the innocent bystander that she is not, and will likely never be, his girl. So he does what any mature person would do and lets himself pretend. "Her feet hurt. Heels, ya know? Lemme get her another champagne?"

  He throws a twenty into the tip jar before he heads back to the table, high on the idea that anyone could picture them as a pair.

  He intercepts her and Kevin on their way to the bar, and doesn't miss how her eyes size him up with appraisal as he hands her the drink. Kevin on the other hand is less impressed. "Dude, hello?" Jimmy's still floating on the fact that (y/n) was clearly pleased with him as she takes small, delicate sips of champagne so he allows his usual banter with Kevin to shine through as he shrugs at his friend, "Bar's that way. Cheers, bro." 

  He catches sight of her smile going wide behind her glass as Kevin huffs away. If his chest inflates, that's his own little secret. 

  He doesn’t get much time with her after that. It leaves his heart feeling a little cold inside his chest. She’s up dancing with some of the other people from their table, smiling friendly and big, clearly a little tipsy, arms moving a little too wildly to be strictly sober. 

  When the music gently lowers and the emcee’s voice booms through the speakers for the first dance, everyone surrounds the dancefloor with their cameras out and she somehow ends up next to him, right in front of their table. It’s only a few bars into the song that he hears the sniffle, and he can’t help it, he doesn’t want her to cry, but it’s undeniably funny how soft she is. 

"Would you stop crying? You're a mess, kid." Blaming his next move on a combination of the beers he’s had and his heart breaking while watching her cry, he puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side. 

  She gets tense for a fraction of a second, but one hand swings around his waist and the other comes up and wipes at her tears as she asserts that she’s “fine.” It’s less than convincing. She looks around as the DJ invites the guests onto the dance floor- probably for Kevin, but he’s wrapped up in his own little world with that bridesmaid he’s been following around like a lost puppy all night. Jo, Jimmy thinks her name might be, but he’s a liar if he says he’s been thinking about anything other than the girl tucked under his arm for the past few hours. 

  They start playing that Elvis song, he hates it. The Righteous Brother’s version of it is better, almost passable. He has no plans on making his way onto the wooden dance floor, but she sighs, and he feels it since she’s still snug against his body and he’d do a lot of dumb things to make her smile.

  He’s clearly lost his mind as he nudges her with the arm that is wrapped around her shoulders, “C’mon.” 

  She follows him, eyes scrunched in skepticism, but he doesn’t have to pull her much, her body belies her combative words- already leaning into him, to his delight. “Jimmy stop, you hate dancing, you don’t have to.” He can tell her heart’s not in it, and she’s been dancing all night at this point, so what kind of man would he be to let a pretty girl stand on the sidelines.

  "It's fine (y/n). Three minutes won't kill me. Just turn off the water works, yeah?" She scoffs but promises to try. 

  When she places her hands on his shoulders he gets chills from his head to his toes, feeling the warmth of her hands through his button-up and he's so, so sure that she can see his ears grow red. If she does, she keeps it to herself and he's appreciative.

  The only thing on his mind is that he wants her to smile again; at him, for him, because of him. So he gets grumpy, she always gets a kick out of that. "God, I hate this fucking song." That does it, she lights up, eyes peering up at him from around his chest, she's so small. 

  "You're a spoil sport, Jim." He rolls his eyes and tightens his hands around her waist. She sighs again and he almost removes his hands from her, thinking he offended her in some way, but he follows her gaze to Kevin. 

  "Kev's gonna kick me out of our room tonight isn't he?" He looks over and laughs, because she's definitely correct, and there's only one possibility swimming around his mind, and he's tipsy enough that he doesn't hate the idea of it.

  "Yeah, yeah definitely. That's a good assessment." 

  ______

She’s unsure for about a second and a half after he asks if she wants to share his room. Realization starts to dawn and it’s not like she has much of a choice. So she huffs into the shuttle that takes them from the reception to the hotel and stands a little too far from him in the elevator and stares at the floor, suddenly shy like they haven’t known each other forever, haven’t had Mario Party nights in Kevin’s basement all piled into sleeping bags on the floor. 

  He slides the key into the door and she starts unpinning her hair before the green light comes on. “I really appreciate this, thank you again. Kevin’s a douche.” Jimmy laughs because he’s been on both sides of this situation before, but he’s happy he’s here to help. The second she’s inside and he starts to rifle through his duffle bag, she sees the problem. 

  “I don’t… damnit!” she’s mostly talking to herself, but he’d be rude not to answer. When he turns around to head towards the bathroom to change she’s unclasping her necklace and taking off her earrings and he feels like he’s intruding on a private moment. 

  “What’s wrong?” He’s not really good at this, but he thinks shes on the brink of tears, eyes tired and getting glassy as she gently lays her jewelry onto the dresser. 

  “All my clothes are back in my room. I just want to go to sleep. This is the worst,” he’s sure she’d stomp her foot in a tantrum if she could, frustration furrowing her forehead. 

  “I brought extra clothes, (y/n) it’s fine,” in reality he didn’t bring much in the way of extras; what he traveled in, his suit, a pair of shorts to sleep in, and what he planned on going home in tomorrow, but he hands over his clean shirt and sweats and pushes her gently towards the bathroom. 

  He starts turning down the bed and realizes that it’s not a viable solution to the problem he’s got on his hands, so he turns around and starts pulling the cushions off of the pull out couch and rearranging the desk to make room; honestly who even uses it- waste of space. 

  When she comes out of the bathroom drowning in his clothes, he has an entirely different problem on his hands. He didn’t think he’d have such a visceral reaction to her stood there in an old Harvard Hockey shirt and some dopey llama pajama pants an aunt bought him for christmas years ago. The fact of the matter is that it hits him square in the chest and takes his breath without his permission. 

  She managed to get most of her makeup off; she looks a little rosy from the scrubbing. Her hair is piled up on top of her head and his pants are rolled at least 4 times around her waist, but the legs are still far too long. It’s not like she needs them, his shirt is longer than the dress she just took off. He immediately realizes the error of his ways when he starts that train of thought, so he grabs the one pair of shorts he knows is in his duffle bag and heads straight into the bathroom to throw some cold water onto his face. 

  After brushing his teeth and a few deep breaths, Jimmy exits the bathroom in only his shorts; he didn’t pack any extra shirts, so he hopes she’s okay with his bare torso. He throws his suit into a heap on the floor and drops down on the pull out couch, it squeaks under his weight and he knows it’s going to be a long night sleeping on this thing. 

  When (y/n) hears the squeak she stands up out of the armchair in the corner where she was scrolling through her phone, “Jimmy, no. You’re like 12 feet tall, you can’t sleep on that thing.” She gets up and walks over to him and pushes against his bare shoulder. “Move, I’ll sleep here.” 

  He laughs at her trying to muscle him out of the way, she doesn’t look happy about it, but that just makes him laugh harder, and maybe flex a little bit more if he's honest. “Go lay down. You must be exhausted from all that crying you did today.” That does it and she sniffs and turns on her heel to the bed. 

  “I take it back, you deserve whatever that does to your back, you bully.” That just makes him laugh again. 

  She tucks herself into the bed and throws two pillows at his head. He catches them both and she settles in, “Thanks, Jimmy. I owe you one.” He turns off the lamp and tries to get comfortable, “Anytime.” 

  ______

Jimmy lies there and listens to her steady breathing, he's been tossing and turning for about 30 minutes and he can't figure out what's wrong. The couch is more comfortable than he thought it would be and he's exhausted, so he's not sure why he can't succumb to his heavy eyelids. 

  He rolls over and scrolls through his phone, somehow finds himself meandering through her Instagram. It's not the first time it's happened, but it feels a little forbidden since she's in the same room, barely 10 feet from him. 

  He scrolls back slowly, careful to not double tap anything on accident. It's his favorite photo. A throwback, her and him with a bunch of their friends from high school at some beach party they organized for Kevin graduating and going to college. 

  It's too vivid when he thinks about it. Earlier that day he was sat in the locker room listening to Brian go on and on about (y/n). It made his stomach turn the way he talked about her, getting into her pants at prom, one last hurrah before he goes away to school and maybe gets drafted. Jimmy never really liked him (and he never ended up getting drafted, so jokes on him). Everyone else seemed to like him alright though, especially the ladies. So, he kept his mouth shut, shoved his pads into his bag and pushed his feet into his sneakers before getting out of there as quickly as he could. 

  Later that night she's stumbling over to him after a few wine coolers, calling him Vese, like she's his coach. He turned her down, figuring he'd rather not have her explain that she had a real date a few months down the line, rather experience the heartbreak sooner than later. He didn't even end up going to prom, just the thought of her wrapped around Brian was enough to have the bile rising in his throat. 

  Jimmy's not stupid, knows they're grown now, some may even use the word "adults." Brian's name has never fallen from her lips once. She's clearly single since she came to this wedding with only Kev. Then he thinks about Kevin and Jo, how they're probably wrapped up together a couple of rooms away and thinks back to how Kevin so lovingly put it a few hours ago, maybe he'll work on finding his balls. 

  After he makes this life altering revelation he has a much easier time rolling onto his other side and slipping into sleep. 

  What feels like minutes later, the sun filtering through the curtains he hadn't quite drawn all the way closed wakes him up. She's gone, he thought this might have happened, have her leave like he dreamt the whole thing, with nothing from the last night to hold onto. 

  When he gets up to use the bathroom he discovers he's wrong. She's left her dress and shoes from the previous evening behind the door and a quick check of the dresser shows she left all of her jewelry as well. He assembles the couch back together and sits to check twitter mindlessly. 

  The mechanical lock turning alerts him to her return. In conjunction with all of his clothes she borrowed last night, his hat sits on her head, hair curling wildly out from under it. But it's when she wordlessly shoves a coffee into his hand he knows he's toast, made worse by the fact that his order is perfect. 

  His slightly hungover brain isn't capable of higher functions quite yet, so he reaches out his fist, "Best. Wedding date. Ever," and immediately feels like punching himself in the face with the same fist she's nudging hers against. Luckily she smiles and looks pleased overall, so he doesn't beat himself up about it too much. 

  ______

The invite has been sitting on his fridge for months. When he got it he rsvped right away, checking off 1 and mailing it back to Brady. It's only now that he thinks he maybe should have waited, found a date to bring. Kevin was smart, he rsvped 2 and would call an audible as time ran down, and now he has Jo. Fuck. 

  He calls Gracia directly. "I don't want to be that guy, but could I maybe bring a plus one? You can say no, I just-" he doesn't even get the rest of the sentence out before she tells him he's a dick, but of course he can bring a guest. She had allowed for wiggle room because she figured he might change his mind, Kevin was bringing a date so she assumed Jimmy would as well. He's so glad Brady's marrying someone like her, so chill and down to earth, never the drama queen. 

  So he text her. The last time he saw her was out somewhere with Kevin, they made stilted conversation until they warmed up to each other again and cheered on the Pats on the flat screen behind the bar. 

  Playing as cool as he can he comes up with: Brady gave me a plus one to the blessed affair… wedding date part 2?

  He puts the phone down on his coffee table and expects he may have to wait a while for a response and busies himself trying to queue up HBO to binge some Game of Thrones in the meantime. 

  Turns out he's wrong, she responds within minutes. 

  Y/N: Obviously. When?

  His heart almost bursts with a combination of excitement and relief. After telling her that it's next week, she follows up with a barrage of questions he has no feasible answer for and she says she'll figure it out. 

  She must talk to Kevin, because he gets a text halfway through the next episode of Game of Thrones from Hayes. It's just the two eye emoji about 50 times in a row. Jimmy ignores it and throws his phone back on the table.

  He doesn't get a text from either of them for the next few days, and thinks nothing of it. Finally into the weekend Hayes texts him. 

  Hayzie: You're welcome bro. Just remember she's my family. Consider this your shovel talk. 

  Jimmy has less than no idea what the hell Kevin is on about, until his phone buzzes with a notification from (y/n) half an hour later. 

  Y/N: Can I show you the dress I picked and you tell me if it's okay? Kevin said I should show you so you can make sure it matches your suit?

  Instantly his palms get sweaty. He replies as coolly as possible, trying to retain some level of chill despite how very not chill this whole thing feels. 

  I mean, I’m not really good at that sort of thing, but yeah.

  He thinks that's okay. Don't expect him to be much help, but definitely send any and all photos, he's not trying to miss out on that opportunity.

  The pictures pop up in quick succession.

Three photos, a front, side, and back view appear in their text thread and he sends out a silent prayer, thankful that the messages app doesn't alert the other person when you save a photo. After quickly studying them and deciding that she can wear literally anything she wants, when and wherever she would like, he opens his thread with Kevin and sends him two little rocket emojis, hoping he gets the point. 

  All that blue fabric glowing bright against her skin. It looks like she's all made up and his heart thumps at the idea that there is a slim possibility he is the cause of it. The slit up the thigh shows that she's wearing the same heels from the last wedding and as he scrolls down he can agree that, yes, they do indeed make her ass look fantastic. It makes him feel like a creep, but at least he’s an honest creep. When he gets to the side view, he catches a glimpse of the cut outs along her ribs and dry swallows. 

  He needs to figure out a game plan.

  First things first, he tells her that it looks great, and then he peels himself off of the couch and into his bedroom to dig through his closet. 

  Here's the thing. Jimmy hates wearing nice clothes and would probably only own one suit if he didn't need them for every game day, so he's lucky his closet is full of bespoke suits. Picking out a light grey one, his favorite if he's honest, he suits up and leaves the top few buttons open, trying for casually disheveled, praying it doesn't look too Miami Vice.

  He's not dumb, he hopes that this is her flirting, but he's too nervous to get optimistic about it. 

  As he fixes his hair in the mirror he starts typing out a reply. Nothing he's writing is coming off right though, all seeming like he's fishing for compliments, so he just sucks it up, takes a photo, and sends it before he can back out.

  Do you think this will work with a blue tie

  He waits face down on his bed, feeling every inch the self-conscious, pubescent teenager he's acting like. Each second that ticks by making his skin burn hotter. She's probably busy, is what he tells himself in the way of calming his nerves. The speed at which he reaches for his phone when it vibrates counters the aloofness he's aiming for, though. 

  It's just a string of thumbs up emojis, and he feels more than a little foolish getting his hopes up like that, thinking he'd be able to decipher any intent through a text message. 

  He needs a nap. 

  Awesome. See you Saturday? 

  If this is how he’s reacting to photos, he is a dead man come Saturday. He doesn't wait for a response before turning his phone off and putting a pillow over his head, hoping the emotional rollercoaster he was enough to pull him straight to sleep. 

  ______

Jimmy knows they’re supposed to meet at Kevin’s, but he thought about it and decided the best way to make her aware of his intentions would be to go pick her up and be more direct in his pursuit. He gets up early and decides to go for a run, it calms him down, makes him feel serene and in control which is just what he needs today. 

  The phone rings three times before Jo picks up, “Hey Jimmy, Kev’s in the shower, what’s up?” He likes Jo for Kevin, she’s got the same wild streak, but she’s tenaciously focused and comes from the same kind of big, close family that Kev does. They’re a good match. 

  “Oh, what’s up? I was just calling to get his cousin’s address. I’m going to pick her up instead of meeting over by you guys. Do you know it off hand?” He wasn’t really prepared to have this conversation with Jo and it’s throwing a monkey wrench into his plan because he knows she’s going to tease him about it mercilessly, all in good fun of course.

  She makes an oooooh noise, like the canned crowd on a sitcom during a kissing scene. “Jimmy, I didn’t know you had it in you! I’ll text it to you now. What’s the plan, James? Can I help?”

  Sighing, he’s not sure if this would have been better or worse if Hayes had answered. “Help what?” Jo snorts, “Let me help you get your girl!” 

  That makes him straight up laugh, “Jo, please, your only job is to keep Kevin’s mouth shut.” She cackles, “I can think of some ways to keep him otherwise occupied, if you know what I me-” 

  Jimmy cuts her off, “It’s been great chatting, just uh, send me that text, see you later!” he hangs up as fast as possible. She sends the message through with enough winky faces that it fills his whole screen. 

  He feels like he’s going to prom, if he could imagine what that would have been like, combing his hair in the mirror and gelling it. He probably brushed his teeth two or three times this morning because he forgot he already did it. Before he puts his jacket on, he sprays a little cologne on his neck and closes his eyes before grabbing his keys and heading out the door. 

  He didn’t realize how close she lives and he’s there within fifteen minutes. After walking through the lobby and taking the elevator to her floor he stops in front of her door, takes three deep breaths, checks his reflection in his phone’s camera, and knocks. 

  The door flies open and she huffs, curlers in her hair and still in her pajamas, "I'm sorry Mrs. Dennehy. I can't look for Bootsie right n-," he smiles, "You are not Mrs. Dennehy."

  “Nah. Definitely not,” he walks right past her and into her space, hoping he looks more confident than he feels.  "That's a good look, (y/n). I mean… I liked the blue dress better, but I don't know much about fashion," sarcasm is the only thing he knows to calm his nerves and make him feel in control. He’d be worried about her reaction if she were a different person, but he knows she gets him and the worry leaves as quickly as it enters his mind. 

  She gets right up in his face, so close he could count her eyelashes, and pokes him in the chest with one pointed finger, 

  "How the fuck do you even know my address. I thought I was meeting you at Kevin's?" There's no feasible way he can explain that he's trying to court her without simultaneously throwing up in her living room, so he goes truth adjacent.

  "I asked Kev. I figured we could go over there together. Him and Jo are still in the mushy honeymoon stage and I love him, but I really want to throat-punch him when I have to witness it firsthand." It's not not a true statement.  

  She nods in agreement, and he can feel the relief wash over him like a cool breeze. When he sits on her couch she tells him she won't be much longer and heads down the hall to the bathroom. His phone is absolutely exploding with messages from Kevin, and he silences it and puts it back in his pocket, standing and walking around the living room looking at the photos on her walls. He hears her heels clacking against the floor a few rooms away, but it's her voice that has his ears perking up. 

  "Vese?" He hates it. Brings him right back to that night on the beach and he hates the way it makes him feel. Like he has to reject her all over again, keep the distance and get comfortable in the bucket of undateable men in her life.

  "I hate when you call me that." Women he's trying to court shouldn't call him that, that's reserved for teammates and coaches and friends at the bar. 

  She's a ball buster and she smiles sideways at him "Yeah, but it always gets a reaction." She spin so her back is to him and sweeps all of her hair forward over her shoulder, "Can you clasp the top of this please and then I'm ready to go, I swear!" 

  He does as she asks against his own better judgement. His hands pressed against the nape of her neck, baby fine hairs tickling his fingertips, and it's he can do to keep from leaning down and pressing a burning kiss on her neck. 

  Fuck him, this is going to be a long night.

  ______

He knows more people at this wedding, so he’s feeling a little looser, a little more comfortable. It also helps that she’s officially here as his date and not just forced to talk to him out of politeness, she has to like him on some level to sit through this by his side, on her own free will. 

  She’s crying again. She’s crying again and he can’t even stop himself from laughing at her; they haven’t even finished the ceremony yet and she’s patting at her eyes, fanning them to keep the tears from ruining her make up. 

  "You cry at everything, huh?" She elbows him hard in the ribs, and he lets out something between and laugh and a grunt. He’s head over heels.  

  Walking from the ceremony to the reception is eventful, to say the least. They follow Kevin and Jo, Jimmy giving a meaningful glance over at (y/n), so she knows just how clingy they are wrapped up in each other, driving his point from earlier home. 

  He’s almost jealous, but then (y/n) trips over what is possibly nothing on the sidewalk, he does the gentlemanly thing and throws a jibe her way before helping her right herself. 

  "You're a fuckin' hazard in those shoes. Look at you." 

  The smile that slides onto her face is dangerous, "Yeah but they make-"

  "-they make your ass look fantastic. I know." He doesn’t realize the error of his ways quite yet, so used to trading good-natured barbs with her it never occurs to him that present company might have a problem with him being so brazen about it.

  Kevin pulls himself away from Jo long enough to join the conversation, "Keep your eyes off my cousin's ass, Vesey." Flashing with embarrassment at being caught, all he can muster out is a weak fuck you, but it sends her and Jo off into peels of laughter and that’s enough for him. 

  ______

She and Jo are a mess, sobbing all over each other before the wedding even really gets started. The first dance has them crying as he and Kevin hoot and holler with some of Brady’s other friends, they obnoxiously tap anything they can against their drinks to get Brady to kiss his bride. That sends the girls into another tizzy, crying about true love or something to that effect. 

  There isn’t a better wedding date. He’s sure of it. She pulls him out of himself, dragging him around the dancefloor by his tie until he gets too warm and tucks it into her bag, the lamest way he has ever marked his territory. She leads him through all the standard wedding line dances, and a few rounds of Shout, lowering softly down to the floor and screaming loud on the way back up. He’s never had such a good time at a wedding and he knows it’s because of her, glowing in the sea of people on the dance floor with her bright smile and laughter. 

  When the DJ starts calling all the ladies to the middle of the dance floor amid that Beyonce song, Jimmy’s heart stops. There’s no way that what happens next wasn’t planned. He sees it in slow motion. The bouquet leaving Gracia’s hand in a perfect arc straight into (y/n)’s hand. Her fingers curl around it and she cheers with the other girls, before sitting down on the lone chair on the dance floor, looking positively stricken as she watches the men line up for the garter toss. 

  Jo is cackling. 

  Jimmy’s not really one to be involved in these types of things, but he doesn’t want her to take is absence on the dance from as a direct insult, so he heads to the floor with the rest of the guys, no real intent on catching anything flung in his direction. 

  Kevin has to be in on it; he certainly wasn’t vying for the chance to slide a garter up his own cousin’s thigh. That asshole uses his ridiculous reach to knock the garter down straight into Jimmy. After Jimmy plucks it up off of his shoulder, Kevin is pointing at Jo nodding and laughing while she holds her phone camera up high, catching the whole ridiculous spectacle on video. 

  Every other guy must hate him, he’s sure of it, as he receives various pats on the back and comes to term with the idea of what’s about to happen. It’s not that he doesn’t want to rake his hands all over her body, he just imagined way less people around if he ever finally built up the courage to do it (and by some grace of God she allowed him to). He’s absolutely sure it’s Gracia who wolf whistles, she can do that loud one through her fingers, and he’s positive all of his friends are douche bags, even the bride. 

  Jimmy stares at the DJ, feigning attention as best as he can. He knows what he has to do, drop down on his knee and slide his hands up, up, up under her dress, placing the garter as hight around her thigh as she’ll allow. He thinks Taylor Swift is playing, but the only thing he can hear clearly right now is the thumpthump thumpthump of his own heart in his ears. 

  She sits looking up at him, so sure of herself and smiling like always, like he’s not about to have a massive coronary episode. His hands are shaking and his knees feel weak as he kneels down and her eyes follow him, smile never wavering. She drops one foot into his hand and he takes a moment to curse Kevin under his breath. It’s all he can do to smile reassuringly at her, hoping it doesn’t look as manic as it feels. 

  Taylor Swift starts singing about her dress she wants to take off, and his mind definitely can’t go down that road with her bare expanse of leg under his hands. He’s slid the stupid, lacey garter over her bare foot and up her smooth calf before stopping and placing it chastely on her knee, feeling her goosebumps as his hands brushed back down over her shin. Jimmy is a gentleman first and foremost and he’d rather not have an audience the very first time he’s invited under her dress. 

  He can hear Jo’s cackle before a “High-er! High-er!” chant starts and he knows she’s to blame. (Y/n) laughs above him and he wishes he could be the pinnacle of cool right now, but he’s about to combust. She leans in close to him encouraging, his hands still wrapped around her calf. "Our friends are idiots," he sighs. 

  "They really are, but they're not going to let you out of this, Vese," she says his name like a challenge as she wiggles her foot, and he’s never been one to back down. 

It takes all of the courage he can muster as he lifts her dress. Circling both of his hands around her knee; they push the garter up her thigh in tandem, centimeter by centimeter as slowly as he can drag it out, not sure if he’ll ever be allowed this opportunity again. Doing his best not to think about his clammy hands brushing across her cool skin, he hopes she can’t feel it.

  Time drags as slowly as his hands until he hears her sharp intake of breath when he gets high  on her inner thigh and he stops, not wanting to be fresh, but wanting to prove to her that he’s up for whatever the challenge in her voice was asking for. He stops the motion of the garter as her eyes widen, figuring he’s taken this far enough. 

  Not wanting to let go and face the awkwardness that will surely linger once the bubble around this moment pops, he slides his hands all the way down her leg. Never wanting to let go of her fevered skin, lest he never get another chance to touch. Her eyes look wild and he knows everyone is clapping, but he feels like dying as the dance floor slowly fills back up as he offers her a hand out of the chair and back to their table, but she leaves him there, practically sprinting away from him towards the bar. 

  ______

Kevin can’t even contain himself when he sits down. “That’s gross Jim. That’s my cousin,” Jimmy’s head bounces as he drops it down onto the table between his arms. “This is all your fault.” Hayes literally chokes on his laughter and slaps Jimmy hard on the back. 

  “You’ll figure it out man. You guys are made for each other,” Jimmy’s not convinced. 

  Clearly she’s not either, since she spends the rest of the time until dinner arrives dancing with Jo. She has no choice but to sit down next to him when dinner is served, but visibly jumps every time their elbows brush and Jimmy’s worried that he’s taken it too far and made her uncomfortable. 

  He’s frustrated. She was the one who told him to keep going, he would have stopped right there on her knee, but no, she goaded him with her smart mouth and shrewd eyes and he went against his better judgement and he’s furious for giving into his baser instincts. He pushes the dinner around on his plate, no appetite to eat much of anything.

  He can feel her at his side, staring at the dance floor and sighing, it doesn’t look like she’s hungry either, her food sits cold in front of her. He follows her gaze to Brady’s grandparents dancing; they’re the only people on the dancefloor and he can see her wistfully following their movements and sniffling. Kevin nudges him and tilts his head towards her while raising his eyebrows and the beginning swells of Unchained Melody start up. 

  He doesn’t really believe in fate, but it certainly is quite the coincidence. 

"C'mon hotshot," he stands up and dries his sweaty hands in his pockets, a trick his older cousin taught him before his first boy-girl dance in middle school. He’s shocked when she nods, smiles, and stands up to follow him. 

  Jo yells out, 'Get it girl!' and you’re seriously going to have to talk to Kevin about his woman. 

  He gently rests his hands on her waist and sways with her, "What gives? Sick of seeing me cry?" Her hands land on his shoulders, before she stands up on her bare tip-toes and winds her arms around his neck, pulling him close. His chest gets tight and it’s hard to draw in a breath with her standing so closely.

  He can’t possibly let her think for one second that he doesn’t want to be exactly where he’s stood right now, wrapped up in her arms. "Nah. It's our song,"  his grip at your waist tightens as he realizes the implications of what he’s said and how heavy his words feel sitting in the space between them, so he clears his throat and adds on, "Tradition," like a coward. 

  Her smile stretches across her face and he feels like he’s laying in the sun, bathing in her brightness. His heart is flying that he’s still allowed anywhere near her and didn’t ruin everything they had worked towards with the foolish bouquet toss. He spins her under his arm and pulls her back, as close to himself as he can, not willing to let her go for the rest of the evening. 

  High on the dancing and wedding and endorphins, he kisses her cheek without thinking about it as he drops her at her apartment after the wedding. He’s too scared to see her reaction so he walks back to the elevator with his whole body on fire, and hopes the hallway is too dark for her to tell his ears are a hot shade of crimson during his retreat. 

  That night he lies in his bed, scrolling through the photos Jo snuck of them dancing, beatific smiles on their faces and close enough that no one would suspect that they didn’t belong to each other. 

  ______

The ball hooks to the left and he drops the driver onto the patch of astro turf and grabs his water, stepping back and watching Kevin drive one 200 yards, straight as an arrow. 

  “You’re not focusing, Vese. Your long game looks like shit.” He knows this. 

  “Just distracted lately,” picking up the club he plants his feet to the ground and rocks back and forth, getting his stance on an even keel before back-swinging with straight arms and following through. It hooks to the right this time. “Fuck.” 

  Kevin laughs at him, diggin in his cooler for a beer. “You gotta sort your head out man. Nut up or get over it. You know her, you’re going to have to make the first move, she’s not gonna do it.”

  Jimmy takes the beer Kevin hands him, “I thought asking her to be my date to my best friend’s wedding and putting a garter on her thigh was pretty clear,” but Kevin shakes his head no.

  “Bruh,” Kevin tilts his head to the side as if to say, don’t be a fuckin’ idiot, “Jo said she insists you’re just friends. Just figure it out so I can stop talking about you possibly banging my cousin. It’s getting kinda gross.”

  He sees Kevin’s point; he still thinks Kev’s an ass, but he sees his point. 

  ______

Obviously Kevin and Jo decide it’s time to take everything into their own hands. 

  Barely three weeks after Brady's wedding and he goes out with the two of them to a bar for some beers and food, maybe catch a little of the Sox game. It's a nice chill night and he enjoys the time away from his own thoughts mulling around, wondering how far he’s dug his own grave. He hasn't heard from her since the wedding and he thinks he may have fucked it all up, a beer and some food that's not on his usual diet plan helps. 

  Jo's sitting across from him, next to Kevin and going on and on about this baby she just pulled out a picture of. "He's so cute just LOOK at him!" Kevin is showing no fear at the clear and present baby fever, so Jimmy can tell he's actual facts in love. The kid’s cute; a little blond boy, rosy red cheeks, and at this rate Kevin and Jo will probably be showing him one of their own in a few years. 

  "His dad was my first boyfriend. He took my virginity at prom and now he has a BABY! I am old. I can't." She shakes her hand, palms out to demonstrate just how much she just can't. Jimmy's uncomfortable at best and not entirely sure where this conversation is going. Kevin smirks through the whole damned thing though. He feels like he’s not in on the joke.

  The little bell above the door alerts him that someone new has entered the bar, but the Sox are turning a double play so he doesn't look over to see who Kevin's waving at. 

  When Jo's eyes light up with mischief, it becomes pretty obvious who's walking their way.

  She slides in next to him and he smiles at her, unsure if she was in on the whole set up or not. Taking into consideration her matching confusion, he'd guess not. 

  "Didn't know you were coming, (y/n)!" She smiles down at him but her brows are still confused, scrunched together on her forehead. He slides over to make room and hands her a menu, which she starts to look over.

  Jo can't keep herself still, practically vibrating out of her seat with frenetic energy. "We were just talking about the old days. Feelin' a little nostalgic." He suddenly knows where she’s going with her elaborate set up and his skin prickles, hot and cold. 

  "I was just telling the boys how I lost my v-card at prom to my first boyfriend. He  just had a baby! How far we've come." (Y/n)'s knee is bouncing up and down and he can see that she's a little irritated at the conversation at hand, eyes glued to the menu refusing to look up.

  "I wouldn't know about that Jo. Where's the waiter?" By the grace of God, he appears and everyone orders. It's silent after he leaves for approximately 30 seconds before Jo, apparently having forgotten every social cue she's ever learned, bulldozes the conversation right along, "You didn't lose it at prom?" 

  Jimmy wishes a lot of things; wishes he focused more in business class, wishes he was a little nicer to his siblings growing up, wishes he picked a different color on the Jeep he bought last summer. But, right now he wishes he could punch Jo right in the mouth. 

  "I didn't go to prom, actually," (y/n) answers, completely avoiding the question, but it makes his ears perk up.

  Yes she did. 

  "Yes you did," he's blurted out before he can control his tongue. "You went with Brian."

  She looks at him like he's on concussion protocol, "I think I'd know if I went to prom or not. My memory isn't that bad, Vese." 

  He controls the flare of hurt he feels at the nickname, "I hate that and you know it." She smirks, but otherwise ignores him; he doesn't miss Kevin and Jo looking on like they're an exhibit in the zoo.

  He turns to her on their side of the booth, "No, you did. I heard him at hockey practice. He said he was asking you." It isn't something he'd easily forget- the stinging rush of jealous hearing Brian say he was asking her, paired with a hot flash of anger hearing him talk about her like another conquest. She squirms under his heavy gaze a little, but looks him in the eye when she answers.

  "I mean, he did ask. But I said no." The waiter chooses the perfect time to interrupt the conversation, dropping plates down in front of everyone. Jimmy wishes he could punch him in the mouth too. 

  Kevin and Jo take the opportunity to make the flimsiest excuses he's ever heard to leave the table. They're probably better off without onlookers, honestly. 

  She's ignoring him having an existential crisis right beside her, watching the game and drinking her water. He can't let it go though, has to take his chance now before he doesn't get another.

  "I, uh, really thought you went with Brian." The ‘why didn’t you’ is implied He can't look directly at her; she's like the sun- lighting up his world, he just hopes he won't get burned getting too close for his own good. 

  When she turns her gaze on him, she looks a little predatory. He likes it. He turns all the way towards her to give her all of his attention, the length of his thigh presses up against hers, "I didn't want to go with him. He was kind of a douche." 

  "All the girls liked him, though," Jimmy picks up his beer and rolls the cold glass between his hands, hoping to cool himself down. It was so long ago, but he feels like he has to know. He just wants to hear that she didn't like Brian, never liked Brian, didn’t even see him as an option.

  "Yeah, the dumb ones," she grins at him before stealing fries off of Kevin's plate, slowly growing cold in his absence. Jimmy sighs, feeling relief crash his body like a wave.

  "I wanted to go with someone else. I asked, but you know…" she shrugs. Maybe she really did ask him to prom because she liked him. His body stiffens at the thought of all the wasted years if that’s actually the case. 

  All this waiting and his stupid false nobility, not giving her the choice. He feels like a heel, "I guess I was pretty dumb back then too."  

  She doesn't let him wallow into himself and presses her thigh against his to get his attention, before shoving another of Kevin's fries into her mouth. "I mean, you went to Harvard, so how dumb can you really be, James." 

  "So," Jimmy stops and sighs, he has to tell her. "This is embarrassing, but," he can't go one more day with her thinking he told her no because of anything to do with her when the fact of the matter is that he was an idiot. Still is an idiot.

  She puts her hand on his knee patronizingly, patting it gently, "You weren't shot down asking someone to prom, so how embarrassing could it really be?" Her smile is a little sad but it doesn’t reach her eyes and he can’t compute much with her skin on his. 

  "Touche, but for the record- I only said no because I figured you'd rather go with him. I just didn't want to get my hopes up only for you to change your mind when he asked you." By the time he’s done with his confession her jaw is on the floor and she seems genuinely surprised by his revelation. 

  Her eyes look a little watery but the smile reaches them, "You're right, Vesey. You are dumb." He knows his face matches, feels his heart go soft and mushy under her attention and he wants. Obviously that’s when Kevin and Jo return, because they’ve been nothing if not completely inconvenient in every aspect of his love life. 

  When dinner is over and everyone is getting up and ready to leave, he isn’t ready to say good night. They worked through a lot, but he’d be disappointed in himself if he didn’t have the courage to lay everything out on the table in front of her to accept or reject.

  He grabs her wrist before she can get too far, thinking as quickly as he can, "I'm going to have another beer, wanna stay with me?" He doesn’t want another beer, just wants an opportunity to talk to her without four extra eyes peering into their conversation. 

  Everyone says their goodbyes and Jimmy heads to the bathroom. He washes his face in the sink and gives himself a mini pep-talk before walking back out to the bar. She’s sitting on a barstool waiting for him, "I didn't know what you were drinking or I would have ordered it for you."  

  "Oh, no. I'm good to go. I just wanted  them to leave so we could talk alone. Is it okay if we go to my place?" She nods and hops down, following him out the door and into the warm summer night. 

  ______

"Don't the Rangers pay you enough to live in a building with an elevator?" Jimmy laughs and she huffs and puffs, feet thudding up each step behind him. He lets them into his apartment, grateful his cleaning lady stops by every two weeks to tidy up.

  She sits down on the couch and he sits next to her, probably too far in her personal space. 

  "I really wanted to go with you." There. He said it. It’s out there in the open. She just looks at him, wide eyed, so he continues to explain himself.

  "If I had known you didn't want to go with Brian, I would have said yes when you asked." He looks down at his hands, wringing them and forcing the words up his chest and out of his mouth. "I know it was so long ago, but I just feel like I want you to know that."

  She isn’t giving him much in the way of a reaction, staring at him with her head tilted sideways, with all of his words out there in the open, before a wide smile splits her face and puffs up her cheeks.

  "You like me." He can barely look at her without feeling flames of embarrassment lick their way up his spine, and he hopes she won’t hold this over his head for the rest of his life. 

  He can’t even stutter out a response to her before she’s cutting him off, "No. It wasn't a question. It was a statement. You like me." It’s inevitable, this is the turning point of their relationship. She’s right and he has to be honest about it, no matter how it will change everything for better or worse. He bites his lip and nods. 

  "Yeah. I just… you know how I am. With feelings and stuff," it takes everything in him to talk about, what he feels is, his biggest shortcoming. He hates addressing feelings. He’d rather keep his distance with snark and wit and sarcasm, never letting anything close enough to affect him. But here she is, wormed right into his chest next to his heart. She could tear him open and destroy him if she so chose. 

  She’s intent on destroying him straight away it seems, because  as he’s about to continue his poor explanation of his feelings. she closes the distance between them and kisses him hard on the mouth. She backs away when their teeth clash and laughs awkwardly. 

  "So aggressive," he laughs and wipes at his lip. His heart is thumping wildly in his chest at her nonverbal confession, "Slow down, we have lots of time now." 

  "We really don't though," he just about loses his breath at that, not sure how he’s going to get back in her good graces, "I have to be up in the morning so I don't have all night, Vese. Some of us have been patiently waiting for years." 

  "Yeah, some of us have been," he leans over and closes the space between them this time. He kisses her slowly and he’s sure if she’d let him, he’d never stop.

  _____

Jimmy cries more than he expects when he sees her. She cries way less than he expects too. Everyone is surprising him today, but he thinks he has the best surprise stashed firmly up his sleeve. 

  When it’s finally time, he pulls her close, the new metal band on his left finger cold against his skin. She looks up at him in her sparkly, white dress.

  "Vese," he smiles when it rolls off of his lips, happy the nickname can finally be something that binds them instead of making her feel so far from him like it once did. 

  "It's Mrs.Vese, actually, James," she snarks up at him, her arms around his neck and nails gently scratching the base of his skull like she knows he likes. The music swirls around him and Jo is happily engaged in flash photography behind his wife, definitely catching his love-sick smile for later blackmail.  

  "I can't believe you chose this song for our first dance," she pulls him into her as Elvis croons on about wise men and fools, "you hate this song."

  He does, it’s true, but it’s brought them together against all odds. He’s overwhelmed with love, so he gives in and kisses her, closing his eyes against all the flashes going off around them. "I really do. But you like it, and I love you."

[aellafm]

           hello  !  i’m  cc  &  i  simply  have  no  brain  !  currently  stuck  in  a  head  empty  ,  no  thoughts  mood  –  idk  how  i  always  have  muse  for  new  muses  ,  but  here  i  am  anyway  with  aella  ,  who  –  basic  rundown  ,  cause  this  is  so  fucking  long  ,  is  the  only  daughter  of  the  duke  &  duchess  of  sutherland  (  i  ?  am  not  english  but  i  am  reaching  ,  call  me  out  )  &  as  the  sole  heir  ,  has  adopted  the  title  of  marchioness  of  stafford  but  has  decided  to  just  spend  her  days  as  a  conniving  socialite  until  she’s  ultimately  married  off  .  but  ,  if  you’d  like  to  plot  ,  please  like  this  &  i’ll  be  on  my  zippity  way  over  .

 stats  .

there’s     aella     huntington     -     keene   !     though     on    their     socials     they     go     by     @365aella     .     i     heard     she     is     originally     from     london     ,     england     ,     but     made     the     big     move     to     los     angeles     to     join     TWENTIES     .     you     haven’t     heard     about     it     ?     well     ,     apparently     their     dream     is     to     marry     someone     that     pisses     off     her     parents    &    enjoy     a     life     as     a     trophy     wife   ,     but     they     have     no     chance     unless     they     quit     being     so     avaricious     &     devious     .     that     said     ,     those     behind     the     scenes     have     said     they     can     be     loquacious     &     spellbinding     too.     guess     we’ll     have     to     watch     and     find     out     !   ━     &     overflowing     glasses     of     bubbly     champagne     to     hide     welled     up     tears     in     solemn     eyes     ,     toes     digging     into     the     sand     whilst     angry     tears     fall     into     the     earth     ,     hiding     behind     an     air     of     ditz     to     pretend     she     isn’t     calculating     someone’s     downfall     &     exchanging     secrets     as     a     form     of     payment     ;     learning     that     enigmas     are     worth     much     more     than     gold     .  (     park     chaewon     ,     cis     female     ,     she     /     her     )  

𝓲.     𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕘𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥   .

birth   name   :   bomi  kim current   name   :   aella  huntington  -  keene nickname(s) :   bomi  –  to  close  loved  ones  only  ,  marchioness  ,   age   :  twenty gender   /   pronouns :  cis  gendered   female   /   she  /  her  /  hers orientation   :  bisexual   /   biromantic hometown   :   london  ,  england faceclaim :  park  chaewon  (  gowon  of  loona  )

fun facts  :   genuinely  has  a  collection  of  crowns  –  just  like  –  a  closet  full  of  crowns  ,  just  genuinely  feels  like  a  Beacon  of  Death  but  she  doesn’t  even  talk  about  it  ,  swears  up  &  down  she  was  almost  casted  in  riverdale  (  for  what  ?  that’s  not  impressive  ,  aella  )  ,  is  an  oxford  graduate  actually  but  also  ?  just  doesn’t  mention  it  ,  fully  believed  in  mermaids  until  like  two  years  ago  ,  aella  just  smells  like  the  sea  &  that’s  just  how  it  be  ,  really  good  at  knitting  &  knits  those  huge  blankets  when  stressed  but  doesn’t  give  them  away  so  just  has  a  closet  full  of  blankets  ?  –  &  speaking  of  closets  ,  aella  just  has  like  fifteen  closets  .

aesthetic  :  overflowing  glasses  of  bubbly  champagne  to  hide  welled  up  tears  in  solemn  eyes  ,  toes  digging  into  the  sand  whilst  angry  tears  fall  into  the  earth  ,  hiding  behind  an  air  of  ditz  to  pretend  she  isn’t  calculating  someone’s  downfall  ,  exchanging  secrets  as  a  form  of  payment  ;  learning  that  enigmas  are  worth  much  more  than  gold  ,  her  own  personal  graveyard  with  everyone  she’s  ever  loved  who’s  left  her  too  early  ,  searching  for  the  love  she’s  never  been  shown  only  to  force  it  out  when  she  finds  it  &  baby  blue  tulle  covering  a  silk  dress  worth  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars  .

playlist  :  she  says  by  eve  owen  ,  to  die  for  by  sam  smith  ,  kings  &  queens  by  ava  max  ,  wicked  game  by  grace  carter  .

𝓲𝓲.     𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕔𝕝𝕖   .

trigger  warning  :  death  .

            happiness  is  worth  more  than  riches  ,  the  kims  have  unlocked  that  simple  secret  in  their  lifetimes  .  butler  to  a  family  of  nobility  ,  jason  kim  met  mary  hwang  while  working  for  the  huntington  -  keenes  &  got  married  within  months  of  meeting  each  other  .  ‘  when  you  know  ,  you  know  ’  they  said  &  in  a  year  ,  they  had  bomi  .  the  huntington  -  keenes  were  ecstatic  for  the  kims  ,  loving  bomi  as  their  own  –  the  kims  are  family  ,  an  arm  away  from  nobility  .  when  tragedy  strikes  one  month  after  bomi’s  birth  &  the  huntington  -  keene  estate  is  burned  to  the  ground  with  her  parents  inside  ,  bomi  is  taken  in  by  the  duke  &  duchess  .  their  youngest  child  ,  she’s  renamed  aella  &  welcomed  in  by  a  family  of  nobility  .  she’s  not  nobility  by  blood  ,  but  they  raise  her  as  one  ,  her  siblings  (  twins  ,  the  sole  children  of  the  duke  &  duchess  )  treat  her  as  their  own  blood  .  she  gets  a  crown  &  gets  the  opportunity  to  rub  shoulders  with  royal  blood  ;  even  if  some  don’t  look  at  her  as  true  nobility  .  the  huntington  -  keenes  are  always  the  first  to  stand  up  for  her  if  she’s  looked  down  upon  ,  reminding  the  world  that  aella  is  nobility  &  she  is  one  of  them  .  as  the  youngest  ,  nearly  a  decade  younger  than  the  twins  –  edmund  &  augusta  –  aella  is  ,  babied  .  stuffed  in  courtesy  classes  &  given  passes  every  time  she  turns  into  trouble  ,  it  takes  a  while  for  her  to  fully  grasp  that  she  is  royalty  ;  nobility  while  running  in  the  halls  of  buckingham  palace  ,  but  one  day  spent  with  augusta  ,  she  learns  from  lady  augusta  huntington  -  keene  that  women  have  a  crucial  role  in  court  .  while  edmund  will  assume  the  title  of  duke  ,  she  &  augusta  will  marry  up  ,  become  duchesses  in  their  own  right  &  sent  to  fight  dirty  .  secrets  are  worth  more  than  gold  ,  women  are  the  deadliest  soldiers  .  aella  will  always  wonder  what  augusta  uncovered  after  her  marriage  ,  because  while  on  her  way  to  a  gala  with  edmund  ,  the  twins  of  sutherland  were  killed  in  a  horrific  accident  .

            the  funeral  is  closed  casket  ,  aella  stands  with  her  parents  with  a  stone  cold  face  as  the  cameras  take  photos  .  the  twins  are  buried  together  (  ‘  at  least  they  died  together  ’  one  tabloid  says  –  the  reporter  is  fired  in  seconds  )  while  aella  ,  at  fourteen  is  gifted  a  courtesy  title  of  marchioness  .  marquess  edmund  of  stafford  has  died  &  now  she  is  the  sole  heir  .  it’s  a  title  aella  never  wanted  ,  now  thrust  into  the  place  of  her  brother  as  her  parents  teach  her  twenty  -  five  years  worth  of  information  to  catch  her  up  to  his  pace  .  gone  are  the  gentle  souls  who’ve  always  crooned  in  her  ear  &  held  her  in  their  arms  before  nighttime  .  the  horrific  ,  terrifying  deaths  of  their  children  are  enough  to  transform  the  duke  &  duchess  into  empty  shells  of  who  they  used  to  be  .  the  palace  transforms  from  day  to  night  ,  curtains  closed  as  monsters  roam  the  halls  ,  leaving  aella  to  twist  from  sweet  ,  adopted  -  into  -  nobility  lady  of  the  house  ,  into  lethal  marchioness  .  augusta  teaches  her  even  from  beyond  the  grave  ,  diary  locked  words  reminding  aella  of  her  role  as  a  woman  of  nobility  .  play  the  role  ,  laugh  at  the  jokes  ,  gain  their  secrets  ,  report  back  to  the  duke  .  there’s  a  shift  when  aella  turns  sixteen  ,  hardened  by  the  deaths  in  her  life  –  parents  ,  siblings  –  she  gains  a  quick  reputation  that’s  quite  the  opposite  of  her  .  ditzy  ,  bubble  brained  ,  a  bit  lost  ,  in  over  her  head  in  the  world  of  royalty  .  but  underneath  the  duke  ,  they’ve  taken  down  enemies  &  corporations  ,  simply  because  of  a  misunderstanding  or  a  misconstrued  look  .  aella  is  deadly  ,  but  so  is  the  duke  &  at  nineteen  after  a  slight  mishap  in  the  ruining  of  someone’s  career  ,  she  is  threatened  by  him  –  reminded  that  she  is  not  nobility  by  blood  .

            &  aella  is  pissed  off  ,  understandably  .  her  biggest  insecurity  brought  to  light  by  her  own  father  ,  the  one  who  she  always  thought  was  on  her  side  .  aella  finds  solace  in  her  handmaiden  –  the  girl  gifted  to  her  as  a  child  ,  her  only  real  friend  &  she  loses  her  two  days  before  her  graduation  from  oxford  .   she’s  found  dead  from  a  freak  health  accident  &  aella  is  left  with  the  duke  who  refuses  to  see  her  as  she  is  (  though  ,  her  lockscreen  is  still  of  her  &  her  best  friend  )  .  turned  from  a  loving  father  who  used  to  braid  her  hair  &  buy  her  any  jeweled  crown  she  wanted  ,  into  a  ruthless  duke  who  sits  in  an  empty  estate  with  nobody  but  an  un  loyal  butler  by  his  side  .  so  aella  graduates  ,  ignores  the  wilting  duchess  as  she  takes  off  for  the  united  states  .  all  of  her  friends  are  doing  it  ,  noble  women  who’ve  accepted  their  lives  as  just  women  ,  living  as  influencers  &  modern  day  title  holders  before  their  betrothals  are  announced  .  it  takes  barely  months  to  gain  traction  ,  to  hold  a  sizable  following  on  social  media  because  aella  is  likable  –  ditzy  ,  fun  loving  ,  nobility  that’s  infiltrated  england’s  hierarchy  with  her  bubbly  attitude  .  friends  with  celebrities  &  other  socialites  ,  aella  is  at  the  heart  of  every  scandalous  drama  that  comes  out  –  she’s  the  common  factor  that  connects  all  the  tea  ,  but  people  just  don’t  see  it  ,  enamored  by  the  crown  ,  the  title  ,  the  baby  face  .  the  producers  know  ,  a  sixth  sense  for  shit  stirrers  &  dangerous  secret  holders  ,  they  contact  her  &  aella  knows  it  will  piss  off  her  parents  –  nobility  sleazing  it  on  a  reality  show  ?  producers  make  her  promise  drama  ,  so  she  takes  it  ,  unaware  of  how  dangerous  it  is  to  bare  her  soul  to  the  world  .

𝓲𝓲𝓲.     𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟   .

            exterior  .  marked  by  tragedy  ,  aella  refuses  to  be  seen  by  the  publicness  of  her  life  .  a  public  figure  ,  her  story  is  known  by  many  –  a  sweet  girl  with  dead  parents  ,  adopted  into  nobility  only  to  lose  her  siblings  ,  only  to  lose  her  best  friend  .  she  refuses  to  let  them  see  her  as  sad  &  aella  puts  forth  an  image  of  kindness  .  a  giver  to  charity  ,  a  lover  of  children  ,  a  sweet  girl  who’s  a  little  slow  in  the  head  but  always  means  well  .  aella  is  likable  ,  she’s  sweet  &  people  think  her  authentic  .

a  social  butterfly  ,  one  of  her  most  well  -  known  features  is  that  aella  seems  to  know  everybody  .  they  all  know  her  ,  she’s  mutuals  with  all  the  big  names  as  well  as  the  small  influencers  &  she’s  at  the  center  of  everything  .  the  life  of  the  party  ,  the  marchioness  sheds  her  title  even  if  her  mannerisms  are  still  noble  .  it’s  obvious  she’s  nobility  from  her  speech  ,  her  accent  ,  how  she  sits  at  the  dinner  table  –  but  aella’s  the  fun  one  ,  the  trustworthy  one  because  she’s  never  told  you  someone  else’s  secret  ,  so  why  would  she  tell  anyone  yours  ?

            interior  .  sly  ,  conniving  &  morally  gray  .  her  lips  are  sealed  until  they’re  not  .  good  at  gaining  trust  from  her  charm  &  friendliness  ,  aella  is  quick  to  garner  secrets  as  payment  for  –  anything  .  she  lets  go  of  them  very  rarely  ,  holding  them  close  to  her  in  case  anything  just  happens  to  go  wrong  &  she  needs  ammunition  –  but  behind  the  ditz  &  the  kindness  &  the  likability  is  who  aella  really  is  .  incredibly  angry  ,  so  fucking  hurt  ,  stuck  in  the  process  of  grief  .  she’s  incredibly  smart  ,  extraordinarily  observant  &  a  master  of  manipulation  ,  but  very  few  people  know  the  real  aella  .

she  holds  anger  in  her  palm  like  seawater  &  she’s  an  invincible  liar  .  always  caught  in  some  sort  of  drama  nowadays  ,  though  the  spotlight’s  never  quite  on  her  (  in  other  words  ,  she’s  not  cancelled  yet  –  in  fact  ,  they  praise  aella  for  being  “scandal  free”  )  .  for  example  ,  she’s  the  friend  who  was  told  by  another  friend  to  stop  seeing  the  first  friend  –  or  ,  she’s  the  girl  who  saw  her  friend’s  boyfriend’s  hand  on  someone  else’s  ass  .  aella  is  connected  ,  a  finger  dipped  into  everybody’s  life  even  if  aella  happens  to  be  one  of  the  loneliest  people  she  knows  .

𝓲𝓿.     𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤   .

these  are  all  most  wanted !  

            skinny  love  ,  someone  who  knows  aella  as  she  truly  is  –  angry  &  sad  &  just  a  fucking  mess  .  we  can  plot  this  out  &  all  the  knitty  gritty  ,  but  just  some  good  ol’  angst  where  their  hearts  are  together  but  they’re  physically  not  &  there’s  a  lot  of  pining  &  hurt  uwu  .  think  carla  &  samu  from  elite  ,  percabeth  in  tlo  ,  u  know  :  spicy  angst  .

           rich  kid  trio  (  0  /  2  )  ,  the  one  percent  of  the  one  percent  ,  they  knew  each  other  before  this  simply  because  of  wealth  .  where  aella’s  nobility  ,  these  muses  either  also  are  ,  or  they’re  simply  super  fuckin’  rich  enough  to  interact  with  nobility  &  they’ve  been  friends  for  ever  –  they’ve  had  their  ups  &  downs  &  they  argue  &  fight  but  they  always  end  up  having  each  other’s  backs  .

          drama  /  scandal  partners  ,  aka  the  ones  that  have  been  involved  in  drama  before  –  probably  because  of  her  –  but  they’ve  made  it  out  with  her  still  on  their  side  &  they  laugh  at  it  now  like  “  haha  remember  when  that  drama  channel  on  youtube  cancelled  you  ?  haha  bitch  !  ”

           current  s  /  o  &  exes  ,  the  one  that  aella’s  currently  dating  –  probably  to  make  her  parents  mad  ,  probably  to  up  views  &  gain  followers  ,  or  maybe  it’s  real  –  &  the  exes  that  she’s  had  rumored  flings  w  (  confirmed  or  not  hehe  )  .  just  give  me  all  the  angst  please  so  we  can  hurt  together  &  hurt  each  other  !  love  this  for  us  !

           everything  else  ,  another  londoner  where  they  hang  out  &  her  accent  just  unleashes  ,  party  buddies  who  get  fucked  up  together  ,  confidant  who  she  goes  to  the  beach  w  &  cries  with  ,  hangover  buds  who  just  lay  in  bed  together  all  day  ,  will  they  -  wont  they  where  they  tease  viewers  &  fans  ,  ex  friends  ,  current  friends  ,  anything  &  everything  !

𝓿.     𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟   .

i’d  love  to  get  all  these  plots  filled  up  ,  or  any  ones  that  you  might  have  bc  ,  lmk  !   but  if  you’ve  read  this  whole  thing  jesus  ,  you’re  amazing  &  i  love  u  sm  .  please  like  this  &  i’ll  come  to  u  or  lmk  if  u  prefer  disc  & we  can  go  there  !

[getreadytosmash]

💍 Victor and Samson

@awkward-snake-girl

send me 💍 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they get married

In a small town hall, a place where they could enjoy an event together in private. I don't think it'd be at a church since Samson wouldn't be really,,,taken there.

when they get married ( ie what time of day, what month and season etc. )

Around late October, mostly because I am laughing a lot at the idea of Mattie being like "fine we should....try to mend stuff. You wanna spend Halloween with us??" And these two just to "no that's our wedding", leaving Mattie and Creature to just "?????"

what traditions they include ( do they get married under a chuppah and crush a glass, garter toss, ‘something borrowed, something blue,’ etc. )

Well,,,Samson is Jewish but I really hated how Marvel handled it so if Victor had any traditions then they'd do those!

what their wedding cake looks like

Macaroon cake! Its classy looking and it seems like a fun thing for the boys to try out!

….who smashes cake into whose face

Maybe Samson does >:3 and poor Victor has to deal with a 6'4 jerk who is too tall to get cake smashed.

who proposed to who first

Victor did since Samson has a track record of being a dumbass and Victor has to sigh and get on his knees.

who walks down the aisle and who waits at the altar ( or neither )

Victor walks down the aisle since I definitely think some of his friends demand it do it XD

what their wedding dresses / suits / other look like

I like the idea of Victor having a green suit to match Samson while Samson wants to look elegant for his man ;)

what their wedding colour scheme is and what sort of decor they have

Light blues since it's a nice looking colour but I like to think they have bursts of green to lighten it up!

what flowers are in the bouquet ( if applicable. bonus: what do the flowers mean? )

Some lilies and petunias as they're nice looking and also I like the idea of them having funeral flowers as an inside joke to cheat death.

what their vows are ( eg poetry, traditional, improvised etc. )

Victor talks about how this new world is incredible and the fact that he has been able to find some form of happiness now...it means so much to him, even with Creature chasing him down like that.

if anyone’s late to the wedding

Some of the Smashers because there's still a line of family between them and Jen and Betty are still ok with him in the long run. Creature and Mattie might show up for solidarity to them and,,,are shocked by how happy the boys are??

who’s in the bridal parties / groomsmen / other

Well,,,the entire team shows up for moral support which,,,Victor and Leonard don't expect.

what their bridal party / groomsmen / other are wearing

Its surprisingly put together for such short notice...but everyone just dressed like this with "goth" in mind.

who gives speeches at the reception ( bonus: what do they say? recount a sweet memory or two between them? tell an embarrassing story? )

Jen definitely gives a speech about them and Rick has to yank Mattie back down along with Creature before either of those dolts can XD

who catches the bouquet( s )

Hulk does and he doesn't try to catch it but it's funny to see a bunch of funeral flowers wack him in the face.

what their wedding photos are like ( are they sweet, with the couple holding hands or kissing or ~gazing into each others eyes~? are they silly, with a snapshot of the ‘cake-smash’ moment? or are they artistic, with one of them facing the sunset or holding their bouquets? )

There's definitely some sweet photos of their heads together under the archway of the town hall and another of both of them holding the same flower with each of their hands.

what sort of food they have at the reception

It seems like a lot of fancy foods at first but really they're just dishes Samson and Victor liked a lot growing up and visiting other places.

who cries first during the ceremony

Samson does as soon as they're in private XD

how wild their reception gets ( who dances the best, who gets drunk first, etc. )

It doesn't get TOO wild but it is a party with Hulks so...be careful when Jen and Skaar have a dance off.

what their rings are like

Victor gets a nice jewelled ring! Samson originally didn't want anything fancy but Victor insisted that he should have some sort if design at least.

what sort of favours they have ( heart shaped sparklers, mini champagne bottles, personalised candy etc. )

They're probably the weirdos who really love personalised work material? Like Holt with his gift from Kevin! Mattie judges untim she sees Samuel going "lucky,,,,"

where they go for their honeymoon

They'd probably go to Italy since I've seen some forms of Frankenstein having Victor from there? It'd be cute!

something memorable that happens during the party / ceremony ( do they run out of ice and someone goes to get it in full formal wear on foot, does anyone fall asleep in the middle of the party, etc. )

I'm crying over Samson actually getting Betty to dance with him and then you have Victor AND Creature crushing something in dumbass jealousy that makes Red sigh for fifty years.

who officiates the ceremony

Honestly they probably get Samuel to as well!

what song their first dance is to

Hm....Have a dream by Pat Reyfolds! It's a very sweet song!

who gives who away as they walk down the aisle

One of Victor's family would!

[camillemontespan]

lost stars [AU. drake, camille, leo and olivia] [final chapter]

Here we go, the final chapter! Thank you to everyone who has commented, reblogged and messaged me to say how much they’ve enjoyed this series. I’ve loved writing it. 

Warnings: NSFW. Also a disturbing ‘Would You Rather?’ question. My boyfriend once asked me this and I had to use it for this fic. I’m sorry. 

Fluff (shitload of fluff). 

@jovialyouthmusic @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @moonlightgem7 @pug-bitch @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @iplaydrake @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs @emceesynonymroll  @themingdynasty 

@gardeningourmet @burnsoslow @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @katedrakeohd @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @carabeth @rainbowsinthestorm @drakesensworld

If anyone’s interested, here’s the song that inspired the name of the series and general vibe: 

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

Drake opened his eyes slowly, having been awoken by something touching his body. Rubbing his eyes, he looked down and smiled softly when he saw Camille kissing her way down his chest.

'Hey you,' he murmured, feeling himself harden as he watched her lips kiss his skin. Camille looked up at him from under her eyelashes. 'Good morning,' she whispered.

Drake groaned as he felt her tongue lick down his hip lines as her hands roamed the muscles in his arms. She was practically worshipping him.

'I could get used to this type of wake up call,' Drake joked. He reached out to take Camille's hands, just because he wanted to touch her. Camille's lips trailed like wildfire across his body before he felt her take hold of his hard cock. He let out a gasp as she leaned down to take him in her mouth.

'Oh fuck, Camille!'

She continued to move her head up and down while her hand slowly pumped up and down his length. Camille took him in deeper, groaning as she did so. Drake listened to her enjoying working him.

'I want you,' he whispered.

Camille slowly pulled away and looked at him with a mischievous smile on her face. 'I was hoping you would say that.'

She straddled him and Drake reached out to touch her- she wasn't wearing underwear under her pink silk negligee. He could feel her wetness and it made him hungry.

She gently slid down onto him, taking Drake in fully, and began to buck her hips as she moved. Drake sat up, pulling her in close. He slipped her negligee off and cast it aside, dying to feel her skin against his. He kissed her neck as he cupped her breasts with his hands, kneading her and teasing her as if she was unmade clay.

Camille looked at him, the gold flecks in her brown eyes shining. Drake growled at the sight of her and his mouth crashed against hers. He was mad for her. Completely and utterly mad for her.

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

Once they had disentangled themselves from the bedsheets, Camille and Drake went through to the kitchen to brew coffee. Drake's mouth twitched at the corner when he saw how dishevelled he had made Camille's hair.

As Drake set up the coffee machine, Camille leaned against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed. 'So I'm going to be busy for a few hours today,' she told him. 'I'll be here but I need space.'

Drake blinked. 'Oh. What are you doing?'

She awkwardly shuffled on her feet and tightened the rope of her mint green silk dressing gown.

'I'm getting rid of stuff that reminds me of Leo,' she admitted. 'He took his things but there's still stuff in the apartment that reminds me of him, so I'm having a Leo detox.'

Drake smiled weakly. 'I get it. You want me to head out for a few hours? Leave you alone?'

She nodded. 'If that's okay? I just think it would be best if I dealt with it myself.'

Drake drew her in for a hug and pressed a kiss on top of her forehead. 'Of course. Take all the time you need.'

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

Leo and Olivia had ended up on the same return flight back from Paris, which would have annoyed her originally except Olivia had now just accepted that he was her little Parisian shadow. Her annoying little Parisian shadow.

They were sat on separate aisles but that didn't stop Leo from turning around to catch her attention, two aisles in front of her. He inclined his head towards the plane bathroom and gave her a wink.

Olivia rolled her eyes and continued to read the in-flight magazine, trying to concentrate on the article.

She couldn't.

Leo tapped the flight attendant on the elbow and said something to her which Olivia couldn't catch. The flight attendant caught Olivia's eyes and gave her a knowing smile. She strutted down the plane and Leo chuckled, turning back to read his book.

Olivia went back to reading about the best restaurants to eat in if you happened to be in Budapest.

'Miss?'

Olivia jumped. Standing at her seat was the flight attendant. She held out a glass of champagne to Olivia and gestured towards Leo.

'The blonde gentleman sends his love,' she told Olivia with that knowing smile again. It grated on Olivia.

Olivia took the glass and watched as Leo turned to look at her with a lazy smile on his face. Olivia scowled and tossed back the champagne before unbuckling her seat belt. She began to stride towards Leo and as she passed him, she muttered, ' You are relentless.'

She strode with purpose to the bathroom and let herself inside. Facing the mirror, she studied her reflection.

The door knocked three times and opened slowly.

Leo's reflection stared back at her, triumphant.

'I may be relentless,' he said, ' but you love it, Nevrakis.'

As he kissed her hungrily, Olivia couldn't deny it.

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

It turned out that a lot of the items in the apartment reminded Camille of Leo. For the third time that morning, she considered just burning down the apartment all together.

She was sat cross legged on the living room floor with objects scattered around her. She picked up a photograph of her and Leo which was taken at one of Camille's work events. It had been a Beaumont Bash, named after her law firm Beaumont LLP, and it had been a black tie affair. The photo showed Leo twirling Camille around the dance floor and the camera had caught her during fits of laughter.

Leo always liked to dance dramatically as if nobody was watching.

Camille felt a twinge in her heart. They had had good times, happy memories.

Leo and Camille had been together for a long time. There was still some love there, of course there was.

Camille's eyes scanned the rest of the objects before settling on a diamond necklace Leo had bought her.

It had been ostentatious. Too sparkly and over the top. Diamonds were not Camille's thing at all, but when he had presented her the necklace after they had argued about something stupid, she had accepted it with a wide smile on her face and put it on. She had pushed down the feeling that she was suffocating.

Leo didn't really know her. That was the overwhelming thought Camille kept having as she sorted through these items.

Camille felt a flicker of excitement when she realised she could start making memories with Drake.

So why hold onto these things that reminded her of Leo? Why not just get rid of it all? Especially after Leo had broken the picture frame of the photo in Paris. Remembering the photo, she rushed to the bedroom where it lay crumpled on the side table. She picked it up and placed it with the other memories.

Defiantly, Camille gathered up the photographs, the necklace and other objects. She threw them into a rubbish bag and carried it downstairs to the skip on the other side of the road. She dumped the rubbish bag into the skip with a flourish and triumphantly made her way back to the apartment, deciding that a celebratory glass of wine was needed.

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

Drake decided to go back to Camille's after being out at a coffee shop for four hours. He had mainlined five coffees on that time and he was buzzing.

He opened the apartment door with the spare key Camille had given him and frowned when he heard music coming from the living room, the beat guiding him through the hallway.

Entering the living room, he stopped to watch Camille who was dancing around the living room, her back to him, with a glass of wine in her hand, singing along to the music.

All the women, who are independent

Throw your hands up at me

All the honeys, who making money

Throw your hands up at me

All the mommas, who profit dollars

Throw your hands up at me

All the ladies, who truly feel me

Throw your hands up at me

She proceeded to drop down to the floor as she sang, 'Girl I didn't know you could get down like that, Charlie, how your Angels get down like that!'

Drake burst out laughing, making Camille scream. She whipped around to face him, a look of horror on her face. The horror quickly faded to embarrassment.

'Oh god, you caught me dancing to my jam..' she mumbled. Drake smiled and made his way over to her.

'So did you do your Leo detox?'

She nodded. 'Yup.  It’s all in the garbage, which is when I decided that Beyonce, Kelly and Michelle would feel proud of me. So.. here I am.'

Drake twirled her around and kissed her softly. She tasted of wine.

'But you're okay?' he asked gently.

Camille looked up at him, her gaze steady. 'Now I'm with you, yeah.'

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

Leo and Olivia made their way through JFK. Olivia held her head high, trying to ignore the fact that she had yet again degraded herself on an airplane bathroom sink.

Leo walked with a swagger because he had had sex with her on said airplane bathroom sink.

They reached the taxi rank. 'So, want to share one?' he suggested brightly. Olivia crossed her arms and stared at him with a look that could break glass.

'No. We're not repeating our Paris trip,' she said.

'Ah, our Paris trip!' he replied, grinning wolfishly.

Olivia turned red and stumbled over her words. 'No, I didn't mean that, I meant MY Paris trip which you hijacked!'

He looked at her seriously now. 'Olivia,' he sighed. 'To quote Ferris Bueller, you are so tight, I could shove a lump of coal up your ass and in two weeks,  you would shit out a diamond.'

She glared at him. 'Fuck off. And that's not the script.'

Leo shrugged. 'It's true though. You’re so uptight and rigid about keeping your feelings in, you won’t let go. When are you just going to stop trying to deny this? You like me. I like you. Give it up.'

Olivia closed her eyes. 'You're just.. Ugh I don't know. I don't need you.'

Leo stepped closer to her, his green eyes focused on her. His thumb ran softly along her hand. 'I know you don't need anyone,' he whispered. 'That's one of the reasons why I like you so damn much. But you want me, Liv, and that's a big difference.'

He opened the taxi door for her. 'Your chariot awaits.'

Olivia frowned. 'You're not sharing?'

His eyebrow quirked up in amusement. 'Why, do you want me to?'

Olivia bit her lip, unsure of what to say. Leo rolled his eyes. 'Get in the cab, Liv,' he told her. 'Safe trip home.'

She got inside silently and Leo passed the driver a 50 dollar bill. 'Get her back safe,' he told the driver.

The taxi rolled away and Olivia watched out the window as Leo picked up his luggage and went to the bus stop.

The silence in the taxi was excruciating. She had become used to her little Parisian shadow. Olivia thought back over the past few days in Paris when they had hung out, taking in the sights and actually having a good time. No, scratch that. They had a riot. 

He had helped her pick a red Chanel lipstick, patiently waiting as she tried different shades. When he bought her the shade she liked, she had spontaneously kissed his cheek, leaving her mark. Leo had actually blushed before clearing his throat, suggesting they get a drink.  

She had pushed the memory to the back of her mind, ashamed that she had voluntarily kissed him on the cheek in a sickeningly playful way.  But as Olivia thought about him, she realised that things with Leo were different; he was fun. He challenged her. He made her step out of her comfort zone. 

The memory of the Chanel lipstick woke her up to what she was driving away from. 

'STOP!' she shouted, causing the driver to jump. He stopped the vehicle and Olivia grabbed her suitcase before bursting out of the taxi door. She began to run towards the airport bus stop, not caring that her heels were too high for such an activity or that she looked undignified.

The airport bus to the city pulled up and the line of people, including Leo, began to make their way towards the open doors.

'Leo!' Olivia shouted, picking up the pace. 'Leo, wait!'

He turned with a confused look on his face. His eyes widened when he saw her racing towards him with her red hair falling out of its neat bun.

'Liv?' he said, staring at her.

Olivia reached him. Out of breath, she threw her luggage down to the ground and threw her arms around his neck. Her lips crashed against his and he let out a surprised gasp.

Olivia was certain he would push her away. But he didn't. Instead he picked her up off the ground and twirled her, still kissing her desperately.

They didn't notice the bus pull away. They were too caught up in each other. Besides, they could always catch the next one.

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

One Year Later

Drake and Camille were sat at a table near the corner of the Italian restaurant. Around them, diners happily ate their dishes and toasted their glasses, laughing merrily.

Drake and Camille were playing, ‘Would You Rather?’

‘Hmmm.. would you rather... have vaginas for ears or vaginas all over your back?’ Drake asked. 

Camille burst out laughing. ‘Ewww, Drake! That’s disgusting!’

Drake shrugged and took a sip of his beer. ‘Come on now.’

Camille took a sip of her wine and thought seriously, her eyebrows knitting together. Drake could see the cogs in her mind turning. 

‘Vaginas for ears. I can always hide them by having my hair down. I do not want vaginas all over my back.’

Drake chuckled. ‘Okay, you ask me.’

Camille was about to think of a more disturbing question but her attention was caught by two people waiting at the restaurant door to be seated. 

‘Oh my God, there’s Leo and Olivia,’ she whispered. 

Drake looked up and his face paled. ‘Oh god. We haven’t seen them since..’

‘We broke up,’ Camille finished. ‘I didn’t know they were together!’

Drake was still staring at them.  ‘Well, this is awkward.’

Olivia looked around the restaurant and her eyes caught Drake’s. Her eyes widened in surprise. 

Drake held up his bottle of beer in greeting as Camille waved shyly. Olivia inclined her head at the two of them, a casual hello,  before her eyes flashed to Drake’s bottle; she looked relieved when she saw it was only beer. Drake’s heart warmed. Clearly, she still cared enough about him to want him to stay away from whiskey.  

Leo looked over at them and visibly stepped back in shock. Again, Drake and Camille greeted him as they did Olivia. 

Leo raised his hand as a hello before the waiter took his attention. Olivia and Leo were led to the other side of the restaurant. 

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

Olivia was glad she couldn’t see Drake and Camille. That had been a surprise. Instead, she could see Leo sat in front of her, all golden. Once he had recovered from seeing Camille (he had gone very quiet), he was back to being his usual jubilant self, which was how Olivia liked it. 

She studied the menu. ‘So, I’m going to go for the lobster..’ she mused, ‘but I’m thinking we could just have dessert to go?’

Leo blinked. ‘To go? You don’t want dessert here?’

Olivia ran her foot up his leg towards his crotch and gave him a wicked smile, the one she knew he couldn’t resist. 

‘I was thinking we could have it in bed? I can do some twisted things with a cherry on my tongue..’ 

Leo grinned and snapped his menu shut. ‘I fucking love you.’

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

Drake helped Camille with her coat. As she thanked the waiter for the hospitality and gave him a generous tip, Drake opened his coat discreetly to check it was still safe. 

His grandmother’s engagement ring was inside his jacket, neatly stashed. 

Drake had been paranoid he would lose it on the taxi ride over to the restaurant but thank God. 

‘So, taxi home?’ Camille asked, shooting him a bright smile. 

Drake’s plan needed to come into motion now. ‘Actually, I was thinking we take a walk through Central Park?’ he suggested. ‘Lovely night, quite warm, the stars are out.’ 

Camille kissed him gently. ‘You’re such a marshmallow,’ she told him. ‘A walk through the park sounds perfect.’ 

Drake smiled and placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her out the restaurant. He didn’t look back at Leo and Olivia.  Why would he? 

He had everything he needed right here. 

They wandered towards Central Park and Drake pushed down his nerves. This was it. He hoped she would say yes. 

The city around them buzzed with vitality but when they reached the park, it was peaceful in comparison. Drake and Camille went inside, the sounds of the city fading the deeper they wandered. Drake looked up at the sky which was clear. He could see the stars shining down on the two of them, their own galaxy. 

Reaching out for her arm, he stopped Camille, who turned to him in surprise. ‘You okay, Drake?’ she asked. 

Drake cleared his throat, willing courage to come to him. 

‘Camille, I have something to ask you...’

[imagine-organization-xiii]

Xigbar, Vexen, Zexion, Saix, Axel, Demyx, Luxord, and Marluxia spending time with their s/o on their honeymoon.

Companion Piece to This Post.

Xigbar

You leave literally the morning after the wedding.  The wedding night is spent tangled up in bedsheets, but Xigbar wakes you up bright and early to head to the airport. Xigbar is super excited to be able to spend some time alone with you. You’d spent a lot of your time the last few months planning the wedding, so now it was time for him to get you all to himself.

He pretty much plans the honeymoon, because he has IDEAS. He wants to do something super exciting and go somewhere he’s never gone before - a beautiful place with his beautiful s/o and time spent with the two of you relaxing and enjoying each other fully and completely.

Originally, Xigbar wanted to go someplace exciting, but he realizes that a quieter, more intimate place would be best.  You’ll either rent a large cottage in the middle of nowhere, somewhere where it snows and that has a large fireplace.  Or you might even go to a nice, out of the way hotel overlooking a beautiful crystal lake.  There are romantic boat rides, opportunities for picnics on empty hilltops, etc.  Anything to get the most passion out of the moment, but really, as long as he gets to spend some time alone with you, Xigbar is good with whatever.

Vexen

Has to be convinced to go on a honeymoon because he feels like he has better things to do.  If it’s about sex, then the two of you can have sex anywhere.  You have to physically drag him away from his lab, sit him down, and explain that the point of a honeymoon is to spend some time together to begin your married life on a high note.  He agrees eventually and the two of you plan a small honeymoon in a nice location where you can be alone.

You surprise him by planning a trip to the World Science Festival in NYC. You know that it was right up his alley and something that he always wanted to do, so you figured that planning that trip would be a good present after putting up with you and your questions during the wedding planning.  It certainly comes as a surprise to him and he doesn’t think he could be happier! He’s so excited to share some of his passions with you!

It takes a while to drag him away, but there are still a few days where you go out and enjoy the city of New York. You catch a few shows on Broadway, enjoy some foods neither of you had ever gotten to try, and treat yourself to a small shopping spree in Times Square.  It’s super fun!

Zexion

Zexion surprises you by being just as excited for your honeymoon as you are! He wants to go somewhere with a lot of culture and history, so you’ll probably end up going to some far-off country that has a lot of museums or ancient buildings.  He loves touring old monuments and learning about other cultures, so you put it in the back of your head to make more trips out of the country for the two of you, just as a way to do some couples bonding experiences.

You spend more time out of your hotel room sightseeing, going to countless tourist traps and other places that are a little out of the way - those places that you only find out because they’re recommended to you by the locals.  You try several types of street food and don’t have time for much else.

By the time you both end up back at your hotel room, one or both of you are ready to just pass out in bed and fall asleep.  You’re both incredibly exhausted, out from sunup until sundown, and more than once have you woken up to Zexion with a book on his face, fast asleep because he tried to read before bed.  It ends up being a wonderful and memorable trip, even if you don’t have many intimate moments.

Saix

The two of you honestly don’t stray too far from home because you’re both worried that the castle will literally blow up if the two of you leave for long periods of time.  He’s worried about going on a honeymoon in the first place, but trusts that the others will be able to metaphorically hold down the fort until the two of you get back.

You end up going somewhere nice and calming, where you can relax and be without stress.  Saix stresses himself out way too much trying to deal with all of the other organization members, but you make sure to pick a spot that will make his forget all of his work and worries.  Your honeymoon destination in Kyoto, Japan is perfect because of the calming atmosphere. You bring a few bottles of alcohol that you have with a filling dinner every night and spend some time with Saix as you sit curled up together.  After the pampering, Saix is nearly boneless and drowsy, ready to move there forever and never going back to work with the other members.

Your last day is spent with Saix giving you hints, saying that you should definitely make plans to return as soon as possible - and he would definitely, 100% stay if he didn’t think that Xemnas would track him down and drag him back to the Castle That Never Was.

Axel

You leave literally right after the wedding is over, straight from the wedding venue to the airport.  He wants to go as soon as possible to get started on some fun honeymoon adventures! Plus, he always likes spending time with you, so any time spent with you - his new wife - isn’t time that he’s wasted.

Everyone wants a little something - especially Roxas and Xion - so the two of you are definitely going to be bringing back a lot of souvenirs. A little something for everyone, even those who didn’t ask for anything.

Very affectionate, even more so than he usually is.  He always wants to be touching you in some way, whether that’s holding your hand or an arm around your shoulder, hugging you and kissing your forehead, etc. Almost gets clingy, but he wants to spend as much time together as humanly possible before the two of you have to go back to reality.

Demyx

Lots of selfies all the time. Selfies on the ride to the airport, in the plane, a selfie that he took with you while you were sleeping, you arguing with the airport security over your lost luggage, your ride to our hotel, unpacking at the hotel, etc. It starts to get annoying after a while, but after a lot of time has passed, you’ll end up being super happy that you have all of those memories preserved - even the bad ones.

At one point you end up going exploring and Demyx gets attacked by a bird when he accidentally stumbles upon a nest.  You spend the rest of the day nursing him back to help when he moans and groans and whines about the small cut on his arm, but it ends up being more amusing than anything.  Leads to a fun night of playful kisses and jokes and rolling around in bed.

Definitely that guy who goes around saying “… and this is y/n, my ex girlfriend,” whenever people ask who you are.  You always have to hit him upside the head and explain that you’re really his wife. Everyone always gets a big kick out of it, though.

Luxord

He’ll definitely be picking a beautiful, romantic spot, maybe somewhere in wine country where you can sit in a place overlooking the fields of grapes. You’ll relax and enjoy yourself, go to a wine tasting, or maybe even spend a day horseback riding.  Chances are that you’ll be enjoying a lot of picnics accompanied by fancy glasses of wine.

Your little suite has a giant jacuzzi tub and most of your relaxing nights involve a bath together, complete with bath oils, flower petals over the water, champagne, etc. You liked spending time together and going out and exploring, but those quiet moments curled up together were some of your absolute favorites.

Lots of pictures, surprisingly!  You want pictures to be able to remember these incredible moments, but there are also more intimate pictures you take that are just for the two of you. Nothing raunchy, just photos that you can enjoy together and reminisce.

Marluxia

Your honeymoon feels more like a vacation than anything else, mostly because he never really gets out of the honeymoon mood.  He doesn’t understand the meaning behind the honeymoon phase because… he’s always been so damn in love with you? It never really feels like that feeling lessens.

Anything other than the best is unacceptable for him. He’ll have a bouquet of flowers delivered to you every morning, you’ll be staying in the best suite with a beautiful view, with top-notch room service, and a spa at your beck and call.  Marluxia wants to be pampered just as much as you do and he’ll make sure you get everything you deserve and more.

You definitely spend a lot of days in the spa together. Couples massages are a definite Must for the two of you, including manicures and pedicures and even a fancy facial. You enjoy spending time together and relaxing with each other, so a spa day is exactly what you need to help you chill out after all of the stressful wedding planning.

[shokugekiimagines]

Do you have any headcannons about people reacting to a Some/Er in a engagement??

Absolutely! Theirs would be, after all, la grande affaire, no?

I think Souma and Erina are among two of the last people to get engaged. They’re born careerists; ambitious to a fault, almost nomadic in that pursuit, even, if Souma decides to walk in Jou’s footsteps– and Erina? Well. She’s Erina fuckin’ Nakiri. Everything comes second to the kitchen.

Here’s the thing though– everyone knows they’re the real thing. There was never really anyone else for either of them, even if half of their relationship at times consisted of yelling at each other on the phone, half-asleep, and half-way across the world. 

Still, well-meaning friends tend to get a little restless about the whole will they/won’t they thing, so when Souma and Erina open up a joint venture in New York City, and the Tootsuki alumnus are invited to a limited opening night run? Trust me, people be wishfully thinking. 

Alice, straight up in the middle of dinner, loudly: Ugh, I swear to god, nothing’s gonna happen this time either– Ryo? Ryo, listen. What am I supposed to do with my excellent wedding planning sensibilities? Huh? No, dummy, why would I plan my own wedding when I could’ve just paid someone to do it for me? It doesn’t count! God. Erina refuses to get married just to spite me at this point–

Souma and Erina announce it in the middle of dessert, flush from service and still in their chef’s uniforms. She holds up her hand in an endearingly serious sort of way– a diamond ring. Gasps resound across the room. Alice almost chokes on her champagne.

Hisako’s the first one to leave her seat and congratulate them! Of course, she tries hard to tone down her giddiness because old habits die hard and she still slips into formality – she’s up there, suddenly fumbling for words, when Erina just goes in for the hug, because that’s her best friend. All Hisako can say, taken aback like that, is “I’m so happy. I’m so happy. I’m so happy for you.”   Of course, she’s incredibly happy for Souma, too. She personally congratulates him the morning after, on the phone, and he asks her, laughing, if she’s down to play secretary one last time for their wedding planning. “Yukihira, you couldn’t pay to keep me away.”

Alice is so jumpy. She’s already made this whole thing her headache, see? She’s got an arm slung around Erina for most of the night, with a glass of champagne in her hand, bouncing ideas off no one in particular. “And Erina, I want crystal centrepieces– and listen, we have to get something original for the flowers, okay? None of that rose nonsense. I’m thinking hydrangeas.” “Kinokuni-senpai had those, didn’t she?” “Oh my god. You’re right. We’ll need the opposite– Dahlias, Erina. Dahlias! Or carnations? Or, or…” 

Megumi’s sort of relieved? At first, she just turns to Takumi next to her and goes, “oh, thank god”, lmao. I think at this point she’s settled down herself– and being how she is, I can see her secretly being a little bit worried about them. Because damn it, Souma, all that back-to-back jet-lag's gonna give you an ulcer one of these days, and how long are you gonna keep a girl hanging? She definitely has a moment of sincere gratitude and congratulations with Erina at first– while the “hell yeah, Yukihira finally manned up!” tequila shots are being passed around, because Megumi knows she’s all kinds of good for him. Afterwards, she follows Souma up for that obligatory “married best friend” heart-to-heart. He’ll later wonder if he’s allowed to have a groomswoman, bridesmaid dress and all, – because he’s having one either way.

Takumi tries to play it cool, he really does! He’s all, “hmph, about time, Yukihira!”– but really, he’s positively giddy when Souma asks him to be best man, even if he posits it in the way of “well, it should’ve been Tadokoro, but damn, I don’t think she’ll agree to wearing a tux, man.” Whatever. He’s Italian. Big weddings are his thing.// Is it obvious that I love this trio dynamic? Because this stuff is comedic gold. Gold, I tell you.

I think Ryo and Hayama are pretty chill about their congratulations, albeit a little smug. Ryo might grumble a little about all the work that Alice is going to drag him into, but Hayama, for the most part, is really quite sincere– save maybe a joke or two about how he’s having to borrow the god tongue to compete. Ah well, what’re rivals for?

Yuki, Ryoko, and Ikumi are all jubilant about it. Ikumi, in particular, promises to throw the bachelorette party of a lifetime, and Alice later agrees to let her have it as long as the wedding’s all on her…plus Hisako, because there’s no way Hisako’s not going to interfere. Erina shakes her head, though it’s hard with Yuki blubbering well wishes, arms around her shoulders. Ryoko starts working out the logistics of all the alcohol they’re going to need with, oh god, a Nakiri wedding with all the 92nd’s chefs in attendance. (A lot, a lot a lot.) 

Isshiki, Nene, Marui and Ibusaki all make a little toast to them from their table– though I think Shoji and Daigo might just throw caution to the wind and just go in for the Erinacchi! Erinacchi! Celebrations with Yuki– at this point, Erina’s definitely grown fond of them calling her that. 

Isshiki, especially, gets super emotional, as he has so far with the engagements and weddings of all his underclassmen. Nene becomes impromptu photographer of the night when she realizes nobody else’ll do it. Isami helps.

Erina’s had a thing for photographs ever since meeting the polar star chefs, I think, and she’s so thankful that Nene and Isami did that for them. She frames a few of the nicer ones for her and Souma’s new apartment in New York– and she keeps the messier, blurrier, louder photos in a little album. A flurry of movement on polaroid– she, and that scruffy, grinning diner boy, in the middle of it all. 

[lord-explosion-baku]

Pairing: Villain!Iida x hero!reader

Warnings: violence, blood, non con

A/n: I got carried away. The reader gets carried away as well. You know how like you just write a little too much sometimes? I did that. Huzzah.

The world knew that Mr. Tenya Iida was a villain. He was corrupt, he was trouble, but he was also impeccably smart. He never left a trail when he did his crimes and even if he had, that trail always lead to someone else. He was also a man of business. He also had money. That always seemed to help him cover up any tricky detail that might help the law show him face. The man was untouchable.

It was August 22nd and that meant there was going to be a giant celebration at his estate. That was a giant opportunity for the hero agency you worked with to send in two individuals to acquire documents/intel/any sort of dirt you could get on the engine villain. Since you were better at hiding from the media, the agency had selected you and your partner, Itona, to attend this party undercover. You had been given an invite; a woman who used to be connected with Iida had sent her own invite to the agency in hopes of helping. Itona was to go disguised as the help.

You made your way up the stone path that lead to the entrance of his mansion, dreading the heels you were wearing. You had to be formal to blend in. You had gotten nervous checking yourself in the mirror. Surely, anywhere else what you were wearing would get the attention of others but apparently at one of Tenya Iida’s celebrations everyone was always looking their best. Itona was already inside probably growling at guests and reluctantly feeding people hors d’oeuvres. You would do anything to switch places with him. Your colleagues had joked around when they say you all dressed up. “Itona is the retriever of this operation and L/N is the legs,” one coworker said, earning a swat to the back of the head from you. Just because you were wearing a dress didn’t mean you couldn’t kick ass if it came down to it.

A large bulky man checked your invitation before allowing you inside. He barely looked at you when he handed it back, making you confident that you could move throughout the party going unnoticed. Once inside, you were offered a glass of champagne from a platter which you gladly took. Something to calm the nerves. You hardly got two steps and a different platter filled with quiche was thrown in your face.

“Here’s some food for thought,” Itona growled, “maybe we don’t drink on the job?”

You eyeballed the quiche. “Would it be so bad if I’m threatened to have a good time?” you asked picking up a quiche bite and plopping it in your mouth. “Besides,” you chewed, “it would be suspicious if I didn’t.” Itona huffed and moved the platter away from you before you could grab another one. You bit out, “good quiche but the service sucks.”

You weaved yourself through a strum of people, telling yourself you were looking out for anything that could point you to something that could you on your mission, telling yourself that you weren’t a little overstimulated by being by so many new faces, telling yourself you wouldn’t rather be staring at the beautiful artwork on the walls. Wait- was that Renoir?

You hurried to the wall. Away from the crowd and carefully inspected a painting in the wall. It was the ‘Lakeside Landscape,’ not one of Renoir’s best work, still you were mesmerized by the fact you were seeing it up close. It was definitely the original work. It was known to be in The National Gallery in London but somehow it made its way into Tenya Iida’s wall. That could be something for you to report back on. You opened your purse to pull out your phone when a voice interrupted your excitement.

“The act of capturing a feeling, rather than portraying accuracy... it’s fairly amusing,” you didn’t turn your head to the voice. You already knew who it was. “Is there a facade to the beauty of the painting? Or is the act of Renoir portraying displaying his emotions more honest than what he actually saw? I can’t help but obsess.”

You took a deep breath. Stay cool, you told yourself. “I don’t think Renoir was trying to trick the viewer. To all we know, this was supposed to be for himself. His paintings were his journals and this was how he was feeling on that day. Though it may be easy to trick oneself, artistic mediums speak louder than words sometimes.”

“Interesting,” he mused. You turned towards the voice. He was... built. Even through his white dress shirt you could tell that he was very muscular, his blue vest fit tightly onto his torso. A suit jacket hung over his brawny shoulder while a black gloves hand was rubbing his chin, deep in thought. Photos didn’t do the man justice, he was handsome. He smiled at your gawking expression. “I’m glad I’m not the only impressionist fan in the building.”

“Surrealism is my favorite genre but Impressionism has a special place is my heart.”

“Well,” he said wrapping an arm around your waste, a large hand fitting right above the curve of your side, “Do I have something to show you.”

For hours you conversed with Tenya Iida about European artwork. How it made the two of you feel, what your favorites were, where you would go or who you would visit if you had the opportunity to go back in time. You would almost actually be enjoying yourself if you weren’t worried that at any moment your cover would be blown. But it wasn’t you who had been discovered.

“Sir, a moment?” a mean looking man interrupted your deep conversation. Iida politely excused himself to took to the man to the side. You could see feet thrashing about in the shadows. Another man held Itona in a tight lock. “We found this server trying to break into the office. He says he was just trying to find the bathroom but we found this on him.” You couldn’t see what he was showing Iida but you were sure it was a flash drive, maybe some lock-picks. “Should we kill him?” Kill him?!

Iida sighed. “Don’t kill him yet,” he said while shaking hands with a new guest that had arrived. Even under the pressure of something like, that he remained calm, cool, and collected. “Take him to the basement. He couldn’t have come here alone. Someone else here is trying to play hero.”

You sipped your champagne and tried not to watch as the two droogs dragged Itona out of the room. You had to stay poised in this room full of power hungry villainous people. When you could get the chance you would request backup.

There was a hand on your shoulder. “My most humble apologies,” you turned and smiled sweetly to the villain that just had your partner dragged away to most likely have information beaten out of him. You wondered how long Itona would last before outing you. “It’s not everyday, I throw a party but when I do there’s always a rapscallion or two that crashes it.” You gulped knowing full well that you were rapscallion number two. “Now where were we?”

“Uh, pointillism, I think.” You knew that wasn’t correct but you could hardly think. You were on edge and now you knew that Even though he kept a calm physique, Iida would be suspicious of anyone in this room. The person he should be most suspicious of, was sweating right in front of him.

He blinked and suddenly the charming look on his face became dark. A sinister smile crawled across his face. “You know, I have an exquisite Paul Signac in my lounge. Do you mind if I show you?”

You avoided his gaze and brushed a hair out of your face, “I actually think that I need to- um...”

He grabbed your wrist, causing you to drop your champagne glass. “I insist.”

His hold was strong as he nearly dragged you down the hall. He pushed the mahogany doors open revealing a couple chatting on a brown leather couch. “Out,” he commanded and the couple hurried away and out the other door. That was plan A: fleeing.

He pulled you in and you lost your footing, falling to the couch. The room spelled like books. You took note of an ice sculpture in the shape of a swan- you could work with that. Not to your surprise, there actually was a Paul Signac piece.

As his back was turned to you, you used your quirk, checking to see how much water had already melted from the sculpture. Just a few milliliters. That’d have to be plan C.

Glasses clinked and then pouring. “All this talk of beauty and the secrets of artists,” he turned to you swirling a glass of scotch in his hand, “and I had this beautiful facade right in front of me.” He held his glass out to you, “did you want some?” You shook your head, slowly standing. “So, tell me, did you plan on... spending the night with me or did this all happen to be fate?”

You weren’t sure you were actually going to be seeing him. It was a big party. You were there to collect information and that was it. “Fate often puts all the material for happiness and prosperity into a man’s hands just to see how miserable he can make himself with them.”

“On the contrary, Marquis,” he sipped his scotch, “as of right now, I’m far from miserable.” He paced around the ice sculpture and you did the same. “I hate parties.”

“As do I.”

“But business is business. I should have been making deals, growing my empire and whatnot, but then I found you. All alone. Admiring my collection. I wanted to know you, know your mind. Your intellect did not disappoint me, however, the matters of what being you here do. But no, miserable, again, I’m far from it.”

You pushed the swan over to him knocking him back and ran for the door. He was already there. Right, the engine villain. You turned sprinting towards the other door, locked. He pushed you up against the door, his gloved hand on your neck. You grasped at his strong arm, trying to pull him off but it was no use. You snarled at him.

He clicked his tongue. “Testy,” he said, “and here I was thinking you were sweet and shy. But even the most scared little mice don’t like being trapped, do they?”

You relaxed, no longer struggling against his hold. Plan B: seduction. After all, you were the “legs” of the operation. You brought your heel to the back of the door, allowing your dress to ride up your thigh. “So now that you have me all alone, what do you plan on doing with me?” You purred, caressing his arm.

He chuckled, “we’re getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?” Still, his free hand ran up your thigh and behind your leg. The material on his gloves felt good in your ass.

You pulled him into a kiss, tasting the scotch on his breath. He nearly pulled away until you slipped your tongue in and he was lost. While he was distracted you reached for your foot, where you hid a blade between the heel and the sole. Still kissing him, you brought the knife up to his neck and pressed it in against his jugular. His eyes widened at the realization. “Back off,” you told, using your body to push him away. You held the knife up offensively. “Open the door,” you commanded.

“That’s not happening,” he smiled. You swiped through the air, missing him. Swipe! Swipe! He evaded your attacks too easily. Swipe! Slice! Blood spilled from his face. You had managed to cut him down his forehead to his cheek. He knocked the knife out of your hand and pushed you on to the couch. “I’m no longer amused,” he growled, pinning your wrists down. You struggled against his weight but he was too strong.

Something hard pressed against your pelvic bone. Your eyes widened, realizing what it was. He gave you a knowing cocky smile and kissed you roughly down your neck, no doubt, leaving a trail of his own blood.

You breathed wistfully as he devoured you, eyeing the shattered swan. Plan C: Fight with your quirk.

Tendrils of of water came from the floor. Focusing on manipulating it and not what he was doing to your body, you made a rope, thin, since you didn’t have so much of it, still you got it to wrap around the villain’s neck and force him off of you.

You bolted it up as Iida was fighting off your quirk. You ran to the door that bursted open as soon as you got there, knocking you back. You looked up to see your partner held up in the air by the tentacles that came out of his head.

“We gotta go, L/N. NOW!!!”

Itona picked you up with one of his tentacles -gross- and had you both running through the throng of panicking party guests. You were sure Iida could’ve caught up to you guys if he tried.

As you ran down the stone path, you looked back seeing Iida standing in the doorway, waving politely as you disappeared off of his property.

You and Itona got into his car and sped away. “How’d you get away from the basement?”

“Fought ‘em off with my quirk, dude.” He looked at you and saw the blood on your neck, “L/n, you really do need to having too much fun on these missions.”

“I got him?” You said.

“What?”

“He has so many stolen paintings, Itona! I’ve got pictures!” Your hand shuffled around in your clutch. You were dismayed. “Oh no...”

“...what?”

~

Iida was laying in his lounge chair with ice over his bandaged eye, scrolling through your phone, finding any information he could have on you. “Y/n L/n...” he said to himself. He was looking at a pretty scandalous picture you had taken of yourself. “My pretty pet, you’ve just made a very powerful enemy...”

PART 2

~

Tags for EVERYTHING: @yandere-inamorata @doriichii i @miitaart @dessiedawnwritesfanfiction @ask-mekakushi-dan-kido @wickedlewicked @chickennuggetsarequestionable @nevermorelanore @kpanime @ayeputita @captain-sin-allmight-queen @diisasterbii @iceformer @meganofmars @colagirl5 @colorbookshd @grimmjadeskye @sm0kingcrack @sarcastictextstuck @zellllyyyy @psionicsnow @mynahx3 @andie-in-tumblland @iamthe-leaf @midnightfeline666 @bungou-stray-alies-tales-of-aly @rubyred-28 @kattariapenn @heypartypeps @quirktaker @thecryingsombra @smbody-stole-mycar-radio

^^^ @thecryingsombra idk why you don’t tag sometimes lol

[musebluebird]

💍 + A SHIP ( sky and luc)

READY? HERE WE GOOOOO

where they get married At the Vasile’s mansion garden. 

when they get married ( ie what time of day, what month and season etc. ) One afternoon in August

what traditions they include ( do they get married under a chuppah and crush a glass, garter toss, ‘something borrowed, something blue,’ etc. ) They didn’t do garter toss cause Lucian would kill anyone getting that closer to her. Skylar follows the traditional something old,  something new, something borrowed and something blue. 

what their wedding cake looks like THIS

….who smashes cake into whose face She doesn’t exactly smash cake into his face but she picks up some frosting with her finger and puts some on his nose as a joke.

who proposed to who first Skylar is the first to say that she actually believes that they have a future together and that she wants to marry him after everything they had been through, she says it casually in a midnight conversation that they were both having but she did not expect that the next day he would show up with a ring and put on knees to ask for marriage.

who walks down the aisle and who waits at the altar ( or neither ) Skylar walks down the aisle and Lucian waits. 

what their wedding dresses / suits / other look like THIS and THIS

what their wedding colour scheme is and what sort of decor they have THIS

what flowers are in the bouquet ( if applicable. bonus: what do the flowers mean?) Mainly daffodil and dahlias but also peonies and poppies. 

Daffodil: Represent new beginnings. The sunny hue of daffodils is as happy as can be. 

Dahlia: A cousin of the daisy family, the dahlia originated in Scandinavia and means "from the valley," making it perfect for a wedding with a garden theme.

Peonies: Symbolizes a happy marriage, and it's the ideal big, bold flower to make a statement in a beautiful bouquet.

Poppies: A red poppy is linked to pleasure. 

what their vows are ( eg poetry, traditional, improvised etc. ) traditional. 

if anyone’s late to the wedding 

who’s in the bridal parties / groomsmen / other Lorenzo would be the best man and Skylar would make Serena one of her bridesmaids for all the support during the wedding preparations.

what their bridal party / groomsmen / other are wearing THIS

who gives speeches at the reception ( bonus: what do they say? recount a sweet memory or two between them? tell an embarrassing story? ) The traditional wedding speech order goes father of the bride, groom, best man and other toasts. Lorenzo would give a speech as best man. 

who catches the bouquet( s ) Lucy. 

what their wedding photos are like ( are they sweet, with the couple holding hands or kissing or ~gazing into each others eyes~? are they silly, with a snapshot of the ‘cake-smash’ moment? or are they artistic, with one of them facing the sunset or holding their bouquets? ) something like THIS and THIS

what sort of food they have at the reception Italian, a lot. 

who cries first during the ceremony Skylar, cause she misses her parents and after that she cries again cause she is happy of marrying him. 

how wild their reception gets ( who dances the best, who gets drunk first, etc. )   One of the things that all the wedding guests would remember would be the dance, everyone had fun and had a good time thanks to the DJ and the good music. Some of Luc's friends put Skylar in the air and she was definitely the first to get a little drunk but no one could blame her, she was having a good time. Luc also got drunk but he has a better resistance to alcohol than Sky.

what their rings are like THIS

what sort of favours they have ( heart shaped sparklers, mini champagne bottles, personalised candy etc. ) They do have heart shaped sparkles cause Skylar can’t help herself but they also have personalized mini champagne bottles (like THIS) and a gold rose bottle opener (like THIS) and macaroon boxes (like THIS)

where they go for their honeymoon Probably Hawaii, Bali or French Polynesian somewhere with a beach but it wouldn't matter that much either because they don't plan to leave the room for a week.

something memorable that happens during the party / ceremony ( do they run out of ice and someone goes to get it in full formal wear on foot, does anyone fall asleep in the middle of the party, etc. )  Lucian's grandparents nearly fell asleep during the ceremony before retiring, though Sky assures she saw his grandfather nodding off. Almost when the party was almost over, an unexpected summer rain began and they both ended up laughing in the rain for those fifteen minutes, both enjoyed themselves, and it simply didn’t matter how wet the dress got by the end (really really wet by the way).  

who officiates the ceremony a priest

what song their first dance is to A Thousand Years - Christina Perri 

who gives who away as they walk down the aisle  Skylar would not like to ask her uncle so casually she would ask Lorenzo, Lucian's brother, obviously she would clarify that he had no obligation to do so and in case he did not want to, she would simply do it alone but luckily for her Lorenzo agrees.

[hkvoyage]

Fic: Butterfly Wings - Chapter 40

Story summary A fashion blog started at University launched Blaine Anderson’s fortune and fame. As Vogue’s new editor-in-chief, he is struggling to find an original angle for an upcoming issue. Kurt Hummel has recently arrived in New York City after finishing high school, and is having no luck building a musical theater career, so he decides to explore another passion of his: fashion. He applies for an internship at Vogue, and Isabelle sees in him the perfect fresh face to liven up the magazine, and convinces him to try out as a model. Kurt meets Blaine, and in spite of their 10-year age difference, sparks fly. Can they overcome misunderstandings and sabotage to find their happily-ever-after? Klaine model AU. Rating for this chapter: Mature (overall story is mature) Word count for this chapter: 4,946 Can also be read on A03 / FF Masterpost is here. The fantastic story artwork produced by Cassie at @cc-graphics  can be here.   Thank you to the amazing @lilyvandersteen for the beta work and support. ***** “The success of Yoga does not lie in the ability to perform postures but in how it positively changes the way we live our life and our relationships.”  - T.K.V. Desikachar August Blaine enters the penthouse early in the morning and sets down his carry-on suitcase. It was a hectic three-day trip, but it was so totally worth it. Kurt has been really busy with his summer courses, spending every free moment at the FIT jewelry workshop. Instead of sitting home and feeling sorry for himself, Blaine had decided to fly to LA while Kurt finished the final coursework. “Is that you, Blaine?” he hears Kurt calling out. Soon he has an armful of Kurt, who wraps his legs around Blaine’s waist. “Good morning, my love. God, I missed you so much,” Blaine murmurs, kissing Kurt and holding onto him tightly. If this is the welcome home he gets, then Blaine thinks he might have to take a few more short trips away.

“I’m so happy you’re home. I missed you too. Let’s have breakfast and you can tell me all about your trip.” Within minutes, Amy has the table laden with blueberry pancakes, bacon, fresh fruit salad, freshly pressed orange juice, and a pot of coffee. “All my favorite foods! You spoil me, Amy,” Blaine declares, starving after the red-eye flight he has taken. “Kurt isn’t the only one who misses you when you’re away, Mr. A. Unless you need anything else, I’m off to the Greenmarket over in Brooklyn. I hear this season’s Georgia peaches are in. I won’t be back until 1 p.m.” When Amy has left the penthouse, Kurt bursts out into laughter. “What’s so funny?” Blaine asks. “The Greenmarket isn’t open today, and I spotted a boxful of peaches in the laundry area last night. Amy is making herself scarce to give us some alone time. Now, tell me all about the trip.” “Sam and Mercedes are doing fine, although they haven’t had much sleep since the baby was born. I insisted on doing all the middle-of-the-night feeds. Monica is so gorgeous and sweet that I almost packed her into my suitcase to bring her home with me. I swear she smiled at me, but Mercedes insisted that it’s too early for that.” Blaine hands over his tablet so that Kurt can see the hundreds of photos taken over the three-day trip. Most of them show Blaine positively glowing with a baby in his arms. “Did you finish your end-of-term projects?” “I handed them in yesterday afternoon. I’m rather proud of the jewelry designs.” “You’ll have to show me later, maybe after 1 p.m.? I can think of a few other ways to spend the next four hours before Amy returns,” Blaine whispers hotly into Kurt’s ear. ***** Blaine enters Le Bernardin, and the maitre d' whisks him off to a table in the center of the restaurant, where Sebastian is waiting for him. “Sebastian, good to see you. I can’t believe you managed to book a table here at such short notice.” “You’re not the only one who has connections. When I told them that my guest would be Blaine Anderson, they practically wetted themselves thinking of the publicity that the restaurant would get with us dining together.” “I guess that explains the high-profile table,” Blaine chuckles. They select their seafood courses from the prix-fixe menu, and two glasses of Krug champagne that Sebastian had ordered earlier are poured. “I’m surprised that Tickle-Me-Doughface let you join me for lunch,” Sebastian smirks. “Do not call Kurt that,” Blaine growls. “If you’re just going to throw insults at us, I’m leaving.” “Okay, simmer down. I didn’t think that would hit a nerve.” “Well, it did. Treat my boyfriend with respect. So why did you invite me to lunch, Sebastian?” “I read the interview that was in Vogue’s June issue. Frankly, what you said about us surprised me.” “I thought it would. You see, Sebastian, in a weird way, I think you bring out the best in me at work. I know how smart you are, I know how you operate and I try to keep up. It focuses me to make Vogue the top-selling magazine.” “It’s working. Elle’s circulation numbers are down since Kurt left. Maybe if I pretend to be your friend, you’ll take the eye off the ball,” Sebastian snorts. “I’m tired of playing games with you, Sebastian. I don’t think there are any winners in the end – just other people like Chandler and Kurt that get hurt by our tactics. Let’s call a truce.” “I can’t promise that, Blaine. After all, my number one goal is to have Elle on top. What I can promise you, though, is that I’ll make it less personal. Believe it or not, Blaine, I admire you as well.” The first course of raw oysters is served, and they eat and chat about the Monarch Foundation. “I really appreciate your generous donation, Sebastian. We’re using the money to buy a property in Defiance, Ohio.” Sebastian laughs. “I love that my money will be used for a Monarch House in a town called Defiance. It pretty much sums me up, particularly when I was a teenager.” “I can’t imagine what you got up to in Paris, before attending Dalton,” Blaine remarks cautiously, not sure where this conversation is heading. “Oh, it started way earlier than that, Blainey. The summer before starting high school, my father got me a job at the State Attorney’s mailroom. There was a really hot college intern who started hitting on me, and we messed around. One lunchtime, the state attorney general himself caught us in the mailroom - I was fucking the intern’s brains out. Later, the intern claimed I was raping him and he wasn’t gay.” “You were the one underage, not him. What he did… It’s called statutory rape!” Blaine exclaims. “I wasn’t in the position to argue finer legal points with the state attorney general, was I? The way he and my father saw it, I was the aggressor, because I was topping. To make matters worse, I hadn’t come out to anyone! The state attorney general conveniently found a one-year position in Paris for my father at the Bureau du Procureur. The next week, we were on the plane.” “That sounds awful. I can’t imagine going through that at fourteen years old.” “My parents said I was a disgrace to the Smythe name and enrolled me in a French boarding school. I decided right then that I couldn’t ever depend on anyone but myself. At school, the French boys were attracted to the new American boy, and I fucked them all – it made me feel powerful. Once the gossip calmed down, we returned to Ohio, and I was enrolled at Dalton.” “Wow. I didn’t know, Sebastian.” “I think it would really have helped if there had been a place like the Monarch House I could go to that summer when I worked in the mailroom. I think I would have come out to my family before the scandal happened, and I would have known what to expect when it came to sex.” The main course of Dover sole is presented, and the conversation turns light and breezy, remembering Warbler antics and updating each other with news in their lives. When they’ve finished their meal and walk out of the restaurant, there are dozens of paparazzi taking photos of them. Sebastian and Blaine smile for the cameras and joke about their friendly rivalry. When Sebastian goes to shake Blaine’s hand, Blaine pulls him in for a one-armed hug, and the paps go wild, because it’s the exact same pose as the photo taken during their Dalton years that was featured in Vogue. Once Blaine sets off in a separate direction from Sebastian and turns the corner, he whips out his phone and sends Kurt a text. Lunch with Seb went great. Paps swamped us at the end. We posed for pictures. Blaine certainly doesn’t want Kurt to misinterpret the photos that are probably already on Twitter. Blaine realizes how far they have come in such a short time when he reads Kurt’s reply. Yeah, I’ve seen them. You are so much hotter than Seb ;). Fans think Klaine rules over Seblaine. I do too! K xx. Weeks ago, the paparazzi discovered that Kurt was his boyfriend, when he left Blaine’s apartment building one early morning to go to class. Initially, there was a media frenzy, and Blaine had insisted that Bentley drive Kurt to and from FIT. Once the media realized that he and Kurt did everyday things – and didn’t have public sex in nightclubs - they soon got bored of following them and turned their attention to an actor who insisted he was straight, but acted like a tart at gay clubs. Blaine checks his watch, and it’s 2:30 p.m. There’s nothing pressing at work, so he decides to go home and start the weekend early. Kurt is spending the day browsing the vintage jewelry and antique shops in the Village to get inspiration for future designs. When Blaine enters the penthouse, he immediately goes into the kitchen to let Amy know that he’s home. He can’t find her, but notices her laptop open on the kitchen counter. Amy uses it to find new recipes on the Internet. Blaine walks over to the computer to see what’s on the menu for tonight. However, Blaine notices that instead of a recipe, a Word document is open. Kevin licks his lips when he sees Brian’s hands and feet tied to the bed, spread out for before him. Brian is in for a very long night, and if he’s lucky, Kevin will let him cum. Kevin pulls out the large chest from the closet and slowly opens it. He can sense that Brian is watching every move that he makes. Kevin bends over, making sure to show off his ass, and takes out a blindfold, gag, and leather restraints. It’s going to be a long night of pleasure and pain. Brian whimpers when he sees… Blaine doesn’t recall an e-mail notification that KrianFeels has updated the Breakout fic, and then it dawns on him. “Blaine! I wasn’t expecting you home so early. Is everything all right?” Amy asks as she walks into the kitchen. “You’re KrianFeels!” Amy blushes profusely and grabs the laptop to snap it shut. “All this time, you knew that Sam and I read KrianFeels’ stories. And it was you! How did you even…?” Amy sighs. “I guess I should start at the beginning. When you and Sam started reading Breakout fics, I went on the Internet to check them out for myself. I thought they were pretty lame – way too romantic and fluffy for my liking. Then I created a username and went on to Tumblr and discovered the kink meme board - that was a real eye opener. I decided I could do a much better job of it, so I started writing fic. You and Sam loved the stories so much that I kept on writing.” “How do you even know about these things? You’re not even gay!” “Hey, you don’t need to be a murderer to be a mystery writer. I research on the Internet, chat online with Tumblr friends, and I read stuff. I might be middle-aged, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a creative and active imagination.” “This is a whole different side to you that I didn’t know existed,” Blaine laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t tell Sam, Mr. A.! Let me have my fun. He’s my number one reviewer and I love reading his reactions. I try to fill every prompt that he gives me.” “Oh. My. God. You’re JiffyFeels too!” “The one and only. Now if you excuse me, I need to go into the other room and die of embarrassment.” “Don’t do that, Amy. Actually, I think it’s pretty hilarious. Sam and I have always assumed that KrianFeels was a gay man. It’s not going to affect anything between us. I promise I won’t mention it to Sam. Take the afternoon off and go finish that chapter.” Amy gathers her things and waits in the private lobby for the elevator. Blaine pokes his head out the main door and says, “Amy, one more thing. For god’s sake, let Brian cum. He’s been waiting for weeks.” Blaine goes to the piano and starts his warm-up exercises, chuckling at the image of Amy hunched over her computer at night writing gay smut for his and Sam’s enjoyment. A little tune comes into his head, and soon Blaine is working on the chorus.

Well surprise, surprise, surprise Yeah surprise, surprise, surprise Well surprise, surprise, come on open your eyes And let your love shine down Blaine stops when he realizes that he’s started to compose a new song. Yesterday’s meeting at SONY records with Marley Rose and Connor was a real eye opener. When the SONY executives realized that Blaine composed the music for Marley Rose’s ‘All or Nothing’, they offered him a recording contract on the spot. Connor had predicted this, and so Blaine was prepared. 

Blaine informed the SONY executives that he didn’t want a solo career as a musician. He was more interested in songwriting and eventually producing for other artists. He agreed to work with Marley Rose on her solo album, providing songs and back-up vocals where needed. However, no-one was to know that this was Blaine’s work - he would use a pseudonym. In addition, SONY would need to donate 1% of the sale proceeds to the Monarch Foundation. The SONY executives reluctantly agreed to Blaine’s terms. While they wanted Blaine to front his own songs, they quickly realized that Blaine would not compromise on the matter. Blaine wonders how he’ll find the time to work on new songs, join Marley Rose in the recording studio, run Vogue, and spend time with Kurt. He decides to put this dilemma on the backburner until he and Kurt have their holiday together soon. 

***** 

After messing around on the piano, Blaine takes a long hot shower and then lies down on the bed to cool off before getting dressed. His body’s feeling loose and relaxed, and he lets his fingers brush down his chest. The latest installment of Amy’s has him wondering what he and Kurt might put in a toy chest. There’s so many possibilities, so many combinations, so many ways they can make each other feel good. Blaine picks up his phone and sends Kurt a text. Came home early. I gave Amy the rest of the day off. I’m lonely, so hurry back ;) – B xx Blaine thinks of Kurt’s body – the taut muscles of his chest, the biceps, the endless legs, the wide expanse of creamy soft skin. Blaine hugs Kurt’s pillow to breathe in the scent. Blaine imagines how Kurt’s cock feels and tastes in his mouth. God, if Kurt doesn’t get home soon he’s going to explode. Blaine eagerly grabs his phone when he hears a new notification ping. On my way home, lover boy. I’ll see you in 15 min. K xxx Blaine is horny and wants sex as soon as Kurt walks into the penthouse. But pouncing on his boyfriend and fucking him against the wall probably isn’t a smooth move, so Blaine comes up with another idea. ***** When Kurt enters the penthouse, Blaine’s yoga playlist fills the penthouse with music. Instead of wearing his usual yoga gear, Blaine has opted for the tightest fitting pair of lycra shorts that he owns, and no shirt. Blaine is sitting in the cross-legged ‘lotus’ position, with hands in front of his body as if he’s praying. “Namaste,” Blaine says calmly. Blaine allows his body to flow into the ‘seated twist’ pose, making sure that Kurt gets a little glimpse of his right ass cheek. He then glides down on the mat in time with the music. Blaine places his hands by his side, then presses his feet into the mat and lifts his hips high in the air to do the ‘bridge’ pose. Blaine hears a gasp from the other side of the room, which encourages him to continue. Blaine gracefully rolls to his stomach and places his hands a few inches in front of his shoulders. With one quick move, he jacks his ass up into the ‘downward dog’ pose. Blaine is physically prepared for Kurt to ravish him, and disappointment sinks in when he hears Kurt sit down on the couch, which is in the opposite direction of his ass. Still, he has one more trick up his sleeve. Blaine drops from the pose, curls his body into a ball and turns 180 degrees so that his face is in the opposite direction of Kurt. He slowly rises to his feet and stretches his arms above his head. He spreads his legs three feet apart, lowers his upper body, and clasps his ankle into the ‘standing straddle forward bend’ pose. Blaine can hear Kurt’s heavy panting for a minute, but there’s still no action. Blaine carefully moves his right hand and brings out the condom and packet of lube that he placed under the yoga mat earlier, making it even more obvious what he wants. “God Blaine, you really want me so badly. Take off your shorts and get back in that position,” Kurt says in a low authoritative voice. Kurt’s command goes straight to Blaine’s cock, which is leaking with precum. Usually, Kurt is so quiet during sex – breathy sighs and muted grunts – but this Kurt turns him on. Blaine peels off the lycra shorts, taking his own sweet time to slowly reveal his ass. He tosses the shorts aside and gets back in his previous position, taking deep breaths to ready himself for Kurt’s fingers. He can hear Kurt take off his shirt, undo his belt, and unzip the fly of his trousers. Just when the suspense is killing him, he feels soft lips kiss on his ass instead of the fingers he expected. Holy shit! Blaine’s arms tremble as Kurt gives him kitten licks around his puckered hole, squeezing his ass roughly. The combination of the rough and the smooth sensations is turning Blaine on, and he lets out a groan. “Oh my god… That feels fantastic… Kurt… Don’t stop… ghh…” Kurt flattens his tongue and takes a long swipe from his hole down to his balls. Kurt takes one in his mouth and slowly sucks, while his finger is circling Blaine’s hole. “Fucking hell… I need something inside me… More!” Blaine cries out. Kurt rolls his tongue and thrusts it as deep as it will go inside him. Every nerve in Blaine’s body is on edge. When Kurt slips a finger inside next to his tongue, Blaine whimpers at the feeling. Soon Kurt has three fingers inside, twisting and rubbing his prostrate. Blaine’s entire body trembles and drops, not able to hold the position any more. “I’m sorry.’ Blaine sobs. “Maybe if I do the advanced yoga class…” Blaine can feel the weight of Kurt’s naked body over him, and gentle kisses along his shoulders and neck. It grounds him and makes him feel safe. “Don’t ever say sorry for what you need or what you can’t handle. I need to know what makes you feel good. Now tell me what you want.” Blaine’s cock is still throbbing, and god, he wants more. “I want to feel you inside me so badly. I want… I want you to claim me as yours. If you don’t fuck me right now, I think I’ll die. I’ve been fantasizing about it since I got home.” Kurt pushes off Blaine’s body and orders, “Then get on your knees.” Blaine’s haste is almost comical as he scrambles onto his knees. When he hears the condom wrapper crinkle, Blaine moves his hand to his cock. “Don’t touch yourself. That belongs to me… You belong to me,” Kurt growls. Blaine’s heart starts racing when he hears those words. Kurt’s cock quickly but smoothly enters him, and in this position, Blaine feels claimed. Once Blaine nods, Kurt starts thrusting quickly and holds on to Blaine’s hips for leverage. “Look at you taking it, Blaine. That tight little hole of yours is made for me.” Blaine moans and starts babbling, pushing his ass back to get even more of that incredible feeling. Kurt changes the angle every few thrusts until his cock finds Blaine’s prostrate. “There, Kurt!... Right there…. Don’t stop… Fucking Incredible…” Kurt leans forward and takes Blaine’s cock in his hand. “You are mine, mine, mine… No-one else will hear your moaning. No-one else will see you like this. No-one else will ever have you. Mine! Mine! Mine!” When Kurt twists his wrist at the top of Blaine’s cock, Blaine screams at the top of his lungs. There are streams of thick white cum shooting across the yoga mat. Blaine can feel Kurt go still as he orgasms ten seconds later. Once Kurt pulls out of him, Blaine collapses to the side of the mat. “Oh my god, Kurt. You were amazing.” “You were pretty amazing too. I think we ruined your yoga mat.” “I’ll buy a dozen more tomorrow. When you talked dirty to me… Wow, I wasn’t expecting that.” “Neither was I,” Kurt replies. “But I could tell that it really turned you on.” “You know, Kurt, I don’t always want sex fast and rough like that. I also love it when you’re caring and gentle, but what made it really special was that you did it for me.” “Hey, I had an incredible orgasm too. I like trying out different things with you. I love you.” “I love you too.” ***** Kurt drives up I-87 through the Catskill Mountains and Albany, and then keeps heading north. They stop at Mrs. London’s Bakery and Café in Saratoga Springs for lunch. “Oh my god, Blaine. I haven’t had a baguette sandwich this good since I was living in Paris.” “Saratoga Springs is an excellent choice, Kurt. The flat track horse racing is still going on and the Philadelphia Orchestra is currently at SPAC for its summer season. Where are we staying?” “We’re not staying in Saratoga, Blaine. It’s too busy and expensive in August. Besides, there’s media everywhere, what with Marylou Whitney and other high society people staying at their mansions for the month. This is just a lunch stop.” While Kurt is buying a dozen pains au chocolat from the bakery to go, Blaine wonders where they could possibly be going, because they are very close to the Canadian border. “Umm, Kurt. I don’t want to be a killjoy, but I didn’t bring my passport.” “You won’t need one, silly. But I promise it will feel like we’re in a different country because where we’re going is nothing like New York City.” They get back in the car and return to the Northway. They are soon in the Adirondack Mountains and leave the highway a few exits past Lake George. Blaine spots a sign that says “Welcome to Schroon Lake. Population 1,654.” Kurt drives on the road that borders the lake, then takes a right hand turn onto a short gravely drive. Blaine gasps when he sees what’s in front of them. There’s a small cute two-story log cabin with a wrap-around balcony on the top floor. In the front yard, there’s a campfire area surrounded by comfy-looking chairs. The sides and back of the cabin are completely surrounded by pine and maple trees, giving them privacy. Kurt rushes up the stairs on the side of the cabin and takes the key from under the welcome mat. Inside, the main room has a kitchen, a dining area and a living space with comfortable looking chairs and a sofa. There’s an old-fashioned cast iron wood-burning stove in the corner to keep the cabin warm during cold winter nights. Kurt opens the French doors that lead out to a balcony to take in the beautiful view of Schroon Lake. Blaine stands behind Kurt and wraps his arms around him. “I can’t believe that we’re still in New York State. It’s perfect. Where did you ever find this place?” “I had coffee after class with Nicole a month ago, and she was telling me about upstate New York, where she’s from. She showed me pictures of her aunt and uncle’s log cabin in the mountains, and it looked perfect for our getaway this month. Nicole contacted her aunt, and here we are,” Kurt explains. They explore the rest of the log cabin. There are two bedrooms and a bathroom on the main floor. They climb down the steps to the lower level and find a pool table, bunk beds, an old sectional sofa, and a large flat-screen TV. Kurt has packed for both of them, and when they go to unload the car, Blaine is surprised to find a large ice-chest and a half-dozen recyclable bags filled with groceries. “I knew we would be in the mountains, so I had Amy buy food supplies and prepare a few meals in advance. I can think of a hundred other things I’d rather being doing instead…” Kurt pulls Blaine in close and whispers “… with your body.” An hour later – after they’ve christened the pool table – they unpack their things, and Blaine fires up the BBQ while Kurt prepares a salad to accompany the lamb kebabs Amy prepared for them earlier. After dinner, they make a campfire and toast marshmallows for s’mores. Blaine loves the sticky kisses he gets after they’ve eaten the sweet treats. After adding a few logs to keep the campfire going, Blaine sits on Kurt’s lap, who’s positioned in the huge cushioned wooden Adirondack chair. Blaine nuzzles into Kurt’s chest, watching the sparks fly up from the fire and listening to nature’s sounds around them. “There’s lots of things to do in the area, Blaine. There are water skis and fishing rods to use with the boat if we want to. There’s tons of walking trails in the mountains. If it rains, we can go to Lake George and go shopping at the outlet mall and hang out in the indoor arcades. If we drive thirty minutes, we can…” “Do you know how much I love you,” Blaine interrupts. “I can’t believe you organized such a perfect vacation. There is nowhere I’d rather be right now than in your arms.” “I love you too, Mr. Cheesy. Is it okay if we talk about something that I’ve had on my mind lately? It’s about next week and starting back at school again. There’s a change in my plans.” Blaine nuzzles further into Kurt’s chest, worried about where the conversation will go. He’s been so happy living with Kurt these past two months, and Blaine doesn’t want it to ever end. Could this idyllic vacation be over before it really started? Blaine nods his head and whispers, “What change in plans? I thought we were happy together.” Kurt squeezes Blaine tightly. “Oh god, that didn’t come out right. We are happy together. I’ve never been happier in my life than during the past two months. It has more to do with FIT.” Blaine lets out the breath he’s been holding, relieved that Kurt isn’t breaking up with him. “I went to my academic advisor yesterday and told him I was changing my major. I want to study jewelry design. I loved the summer course, and there’s something about creating a work of art from metals and different color gem stones that people can wear that appeals to me. It’s really sparked something inside me. Now, when I look around, I see inspiration everywhere for brooches, rings and the like.” “I’m not really surprised. The things I had to do this summer to convince you to leave the jewelry workshop at FIT. I love the jewlery you’ve created and I think you have a special talent. And trust me, I see a lot of jewelry come across my desk at Vogue, so I know what I’m talking about.” “You don’t think I’m too fickle, changing my major?” “Nonsense, Kurt. You’re following your gut feeling about what’s right for you. I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what I’m going to do as well. I’m thinking of really giving songwriting a go. I have enough ideas for songs to put together an album and I want to spend some time with Marley Rose and flesh them out. I think she has the perfect voice for them.” “That’s fantastic, Blaine! Pretty soon you’ll be giving up your day job and pursuing your music.” “I’m not sure about that. New York City’s pretty expensive, and I still need to pay the mortgage.” “New York City is expensive when you live in a penthouse, and have a driver and housekeeper. But we don’t need to have that sort of lifestyle. Honestly, Blaine, I would be happy living in a shoebox as long as we’re living together.” Blaine suddenly sits up and wonders if Kurt really means it. When he looks at Kurt, he sees a warm hopeful expression. Kurt’s eyes are sparkling, and he’s wearing the same large smile that he had on the first day Blaine met him. “Do you mean…?” “Yes, Blaine. I want us to live together, now and for always. I like spending time with my best friend, my lover, my prince charming. I’ve been crazy happy since I returned to New York.” “Me too. I love living with you, Kurt. I can’t wait to get home each day to spend time with you.”

Kurt slaps his forearm and brushes off a dead mosquito. “Let’s take this inside before I’m eaten alive by bugs. I can think of a lot of ways we could be celebrating.” Author notes Song Blaine starts to compose - ‘Surprise, Surprise’ by Bruce Springsteen

Did you guess the identity of KrianFeels? Next up:  the last chapter (there’s also an epilogue).