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#Yes I did. And I failed spectacularly

anonfromtheflight · 6 months

Note

Hi and welcome!! (from mostly a lurker)

Have you ventured into Omar’s music yet? If so, what are your thoughts and favourites? If you haven’t, you totally should!

HIIIIII! Thank you!! 💜

And YESSSSSSS. I have already listened to his entire Spotify catalogue 🫣 It was the third thing I did after getting home and watching the second season. When I checked the notes on my first anon confession, someone said I should listen to his music since I already thought he was the most beautiful man I've ever seen (and I still do!) and imagine my surprise when I had already liked one of his songs! As I explained in my previous reply, I'm a fan of several Swedish singers (especially Zara Larsson, my beloved) and always get recommendations from Spotify about other swedish singers (that's how I started to listen to waterbaby too and she's also in the Young Royals soundtrack! I love it) so I probably listened to the song and I liked it although I have no memory of it 😩😩😩😩 After beating myself up for a bit, I listened to "Simon's song" for hours and many feelings were felt by me and my post season 2 brain.

But anyway ! I really liked his voice. It has a soothing quality? That I really like. And I'm a fan of him singing in Spanish and English, that's so unique!! and as a spanish speaker, I appreciate it! Even if it's inconvenient at times, like when I start singing "Mi casa, su casa" where people can hear me and look at me weird lmao

Favourites! OHMYGOD that's a though one!!! Right now I've been listening non-stop to "Happier", "Off my mind", "Moving like that", "Mi casa, su casa" and "Coast Side - Carousel remix " on a loop. But I also really liked "Breathe" (honey for my ears omg), "It takes a fool to remain sane" (I prefer the version he sings in the show tho, oops!), "Simon's song" for obvious reasons and his cover of "Symphony"!! and now I have the NEED for him and Zara to sing together 🥺

But yeah, turns out most his music fits my tastes perfectly because I love pop dance music 🤭

#respondiendo #Omar Rudberg #i talk a lot sorry #Did I try to sing along to Simon's Song? yes #Yes I did. And I failed spectacularly

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deadsetobsessions · 4 months

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Hera stood, waiting for her turn at last. The Queen of the Greek Pantheon traced the lines of neon green, its light reflecting against her true form in a soothing way. She’s no stranger to patience, to waiting. But there were little of those that had the gall to make her wait, and even smaller of that number that she would tolerate such behavior. Regardless, this was the one being she could not afford to offend and so, she waits. Her many forms, her divine self, perceived the room and compared it to her own halls of residence.

Olympus was much more intricate, carved of noble marble and inlaid with countless of priceless metals and gems and divinity. Twelve seats of power atop an engineering wonder, halls adorned with the brightest of the original flames, an hearth that was roaring at Hesta’s skillful hands.

In comparison, this throne room had been changed much since she was last here. Gone were the spikes of terror and screams of the damned. Now… it looked like the most bare throne room she’d ever bore witness to.

And yet, as she waited for the Boy King, Hera could feel the subtle thrum of impossible power. The new king did not flare his will and might like the previous tyrant, and for that, Hera approved. She has had quite enough of living with and under tyrants who cared only for themselves… and their bed achievements whilst failing spectacularly in their marital roles. Zeus was not a good life partner and Hera regretted ever saying yes to him many times in her immortal life. And yet… she loved him still.

The doors opened, and a small figure floated in, flanked by the previous King’s Knight. Perhaps that is what makes this Boy King so dangerous, Hera thought as she dipped into a bow, because he can turn the loyalest to his side.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted, in ghost speak.

“Heya, Hera!” The Boy King greeted her back, before waving the Knight away. Hera marveled, a bit, at the sheer confidence he had to dismiss his knight in her presence. Even the last king kept the knights around to ensure his power was always in display, always unchallengeable. The Boy King could destroy her with a snap of a finger and he knows it. He knows that she knows it.

“What did you need?” The Boy King asked, grin still on place as he floated to her instead of seating himself on his throne. Hera masked the bit of confusion she felt in pursuit of her goal.

“I have come here to ask of you a favor,” she began. “I am aware that… you are fond of this, the earth in which I reside in?”

Hera carefully picked her word. Everybody knows that the new King Phantom had laid claim to not only the Infinite Realms as is normal of his station, but an entire Earth as his haunt. He had the power to do so, she could finally see, now that she was standing before him. It would not do for Hera to get her strings cut because she claimed what is his.

“Sure. Why?” The Boy King tilted his head, narrowing that predator green upon her true form.

“Do you know of the Justice League, my lord?”

“Phantom’s fine,” he waved a hand. “And yeah, sure do! Why?”

Hera tilted her many forms in acknowledgement of the command. She bowed.

“My daughter, of a sort, is Diana Prince. Wonder Woman. She is… in grave danger. We can not exert our influence over a land that does not have our history. I can not interfere and aid her.”

“Oh, you want me to help her?” His tone was exasperated, and Hera spoke even more carefully in fear of offending him.

“Yes, if it pleases you. And it would be most gracious of you should Your Majesty have time to watch over her. I fear the danger will not leave her so quickly.”

There was a brief period of silence before King Phantom sighed. “And if it does not please me to do so?”

Hera looked up and locked gazes with evaluating green. “Then I am afraid I will be breaking a fair bit of cosmic law, King Phantom.”

He laughed. “Okay, yeah, I’ll check up on Wonder Woman.”

Hera blinked her many eyes, peacock feathers spreading in shock at how easily he allowed her favors. She did not even have to beg.

King Phantom turned to leave before pausing. “Hera, if you need help, just ask. Preferably without beating around the bushes next time. Also, Pandora misses you. You might want to hang around for tea later.”

Hera regarded him with the might of her divinity, which was but hardly a spec of his own kindness. The last one had not had her respect. Fear, yes. But never respect But this one…

“Yes, my King.”

“It’s just Phantom.” He shot back as he left, the Knight returning to his side once more.

Hera transformed into a more mortal form. She had not seen Pandora in a long time, the young woman had made quite an impression on her. Perhaps her old friend could be convinced in helping her punch Zeus and ruin her beloved husband’s day. Hera hummed, the green that used to flicker acidly against her divine form now only soothed. A reflection of its owner.

King Phantom is worthy of her regard.

——

Holy shit, a goddess asked him to check on the Justice League! She was super weird about it and talked in a really old way of speaking, but Danny hadn’t had anything to do for the past few days while entering the zone for his annual check up.

Danny waved away Fright Knight and dived into the portal that would take him directly to the Justice League and Diana!

He floated down from the portal, blinking at group of disheveled and injured superheroes surrounded by a group of demons. Belial?

“King Phantom.” Belial rumbled. Danny waved, not noticing the standstill his presence forced.

“Shite.” The British man cursed, drawing on his magic once more.

“King Phantom?” Diana Prince, Wonder Woman, said quizzically.

“Who?” Batman, Batman! That’s actually Batman, rumbled.

“High King of the Infinite Realms. We’re buggered if he decides to help Belial.”

“Wait, like the god of gods, that King Phantom?” Captain Marvel asked. Ancients, why are all of them electrical based? Danny hates electricity.

Danny floated closer to them, grinning in a friendly way before frowning as they tensed up.

“King Phantom. May I ask why you have graced us with your presence, my King?”

“Hey, Wonder Woman! Your mom asked me to babysit you!” He grinned, sharp and mischievous.

“What…?” The Flash asked, zipping to their side. “Her mom? Queen Hippolyta?”

“No, Hera,” Danny said, and watched Wonder Woman straighten at his words.

“The Goddess Hera.”

“Yep!” Danny rocked back on his suddenly formed legs instead of the whisp of a tail he usually kept in the Zone. He was also still floating. Danny sent a wave of ice and froze the rest of the demons in one fell swoop.

“The rest of you can take care of clean up, yes? Diana has to get some snacks, dinner, and then go to bed.” He pushed gently at Diana’s shoulders, nudging her towards the plane. She went willingly, respectful but amused.

——

Bruce, intellectually knowing that’s a king but only seeing a superhero teenager: *fills out mental adoption paperwork*

——

Hera, a goddess, terrified of misspeaking and dying as a result: he’s so strong even though he’s young omg powerful and could end my immortal existence

Danny, an unserious king: golly gee why is she speaking like a Shakespeare novel

——

Hera, thinking Danny’s gonna be dignified: pls watch over my daughter

Danny, who has a clone he sees as a daughter and therefore has no issues babysitting a grown woman: lol snacks, dinner, bedtime

Diana:… usually I’m on the other spectrum of this but it’s from a higher up so… okay?

——

Danny, terrifying gods and ancients: they’re my friends! The power of friendship!

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gildedoak · 17 days

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Episode 7: Beignets!

I rewatched S2E2 of Helluva Boss ("Seeing Stars") and got hit with that BANGER of a line from Loona about dads having issues and messing up all the time but still caring. VIVZIE, I am sensing a THEMEEEEEEE.

And thank you for all the lovely comments thus far! I'm so tickled to see how many folks connect with this, whether you're from the American South or not. Food is such a core love language for so many people.

SOUTHERN COMFORT FOOD SERIES Chicken and Waffles Sweet Tea Peach Cobbler Hushpuppies Crab/Crawfish Boil Gumbo (plus character notes!) Beignets Part 2 Fried Catfish Shrimp and Grits Cornbread Pecan Pie Biscuits and Gravy

Description under the cut!

[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Radioapple comic

PANEL 1: (Lucifer sits atop a barstool-like chair on his balcony at the hotel. He's curled up in on himself, quietly crying with his head in his arms as he slumps over the marble balustrade and his tail curled around his ankles.)

PANEL 2: (Alastor gently sets a large platter of fresh beignets next to Lucifer's arm, and Lucifer glances up, looking miserable.) Alastor: (offscreen) You're not a bad father, you know.

PANEL 3: (Alastor strikes a jazz-hands pose as a canned laugh track emanates from his cane.) Alastor: Granted, YES you did fail spectacularly! You fail A LOT. But...

PANEL 4: (Closeup of the lower half of Lucifer's face as more tears fall down his cheeks.) Alastor: (offscreen) ...you're consistently, SINCERELY trying. And that is incredibly important.

PANEL 5: (closeup of Alastor's right eye in profile) Alastor: It's certainly more than my father ever did.

PANEL 6: (Alastor reaches over and places a hand on Lucifer's, which is still clutching at his upper arm. Though we can't see Lucifer's face, he's sitting a little straighter, looking up at Alastor.) Alastor: (offscreen) Or yours, for that matter.

END DESCRIPTION]

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rad-batson · 1 year

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Here’s some more about the game :D for your reading pleasure @portal-to-oblivion (Based on this post)

Freestyle Checkers: A Tim and Damian Special OR “How can we make talking to people a competition?”

They are sneaky. They are underhanded. They will do anything to win.

Originally, this was a ploy to get Bruce to ban them from the galas. Over the coming months, however, they begin to enjoy attending. A little too much.

Tim starts a conga line and convinces everyone on his team to join before marching them to Damian’s side.

Damian subtly moves the tables just an inch or two to the right all night until the whole room has switched seating arrangements.

After a particularly eventful game, Bruce now requires them both to empty their pockets and walk through a metal detector before entering the ballroom.

Tim uses his role as company heir to befriend everyone on his team and then introduce them to one another. He accidentally started a coup once.

Damian uses his puppy eyes to woo the guests into doing his bidding and avoid punishment.

He also sets fire to the curtains.

They are repeatedly caught giving death glares to each other from across the ballroom…but that’s normal. What’s not normal is the two giving death glares to a seemingly random guest at the same time. (She was only going to say hello to Maxine. Why does she feel like she’s in mortal danger?)

Tim spikes the punch with a hint of laxatives so everybody sticks to the bathrooms on Damian’s side.

Several games in, Damian finds a loophole in the rules. Even if the pieces can’t know they’re in a game, that doesn’t mean others can’t. He pays several catering staff to form a physical barrier between certain guests and places. Tim is livid and demands the loophole be written out.

Damian, after stealing a woman’s expensive watch: “Oh, I think I saw it at table seven! Here, let me take you there :)”

Tim makes a kid cry at table 20 so everyone will avoid that side of the room.

Tim: “To the left now, y’all! Left again! Right foot two stomps! Keep going left!”

Every other batfamily member has joined the game at least once, both as a piece AND as a player. On a particularly boring night, it was Tim v. Damian v. Steph v. Jason v. Duke. Every attendee was an unwilling participant. Including Bruce.

Damian is the reason death threats are no longer allowed for the game.

Tim: “Oh, you don’t want to talk to Nicole. Did you hear what she said about Leandra last night? The drama!”

Damian, tugging a guest’s arm: “Hey, is your blue Mercedes parked outside?” Guest: “Oh, hi sweetie :) Yes, why do you ask?” Damian: “It exploded.”

Damian studies the attendance sheet, makes a mental list of who eats what kind of dessert according to previous galas, then chooses all the guests who he knows like chocolate. Suddenly, there’s a surprise chocolate fountain on Tim’s side!

Tim studies the attendance sheet then figures out their addresses, hacks into their Facebook, stalks their Friends list, makes a chart of who is on good and bad terms, then chooses his team based on that.

Both of the above methods listed fail spectacularly

Damian: “So…I win.” Tim: “Damian, this is a hostage situation.” Damian: “But they’re lined up on your side. I win.” Tim: You know, I’m starting to think you set this up.”

He did.

During one particular night, a Wayne benefactor figures out what’s going on and tries to expose them so they team up, completely ruin his public reputation, and get him banned from all future galas to preserve the game.

No matter how hard he tries, Bruce cannot stop them from playing.

#batfamily #tim drake #damian wayne #batbros #batfam #bruce wayne #batman #incorrect batfamily quotes #dc #dc robin #red robin #robin damian #dc universe #damian al ghul

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mellowsadistic · 3 months

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The Magician's Game - Chapter 4

Susie’s New Life

“Come here, little one!” Susie’s mother called. “Come to Mummy!”

Susie immediately got up and abandoned the stuffed animal tea party she’d been forced to play with (“Would you wike some tea, Mister Snuggles?”), hurrying over to her mother as fast she could. Once she reached Mrs Taylor, she felt a sudden weakness in her knees. Against her will, her body did a submissive little curtsey. She lifted up the hem of her silly little frock and flashed her wet, drooping diaper. “Here Mummy,” she said. Normally she was allowed to wear cotton underpants and use the little plastic training potty in the living room, always under supervision, but occasionally her mother changed her into nappies and told her she couldn’t control her bladder. Susie had spent that whole morning dribbling wee-wee into her pants like a dumb baby. Her mother had told her she couldn’t hold her pee, so she couldn’t.

“Good girl,” Mrs Taylor cooed, smirking. Even after months of having her independent daughter back under her thumb, she was still delighted by the sight of the once mature, rebellious young woman reduced to an obedient little lady. She looked especially adorable in her soggy nappy, blushing crimson, her eyes fixed on her sweet little Mary Janes. “Come with Mommy, sweetie. We’re going to your nursery. We need to get you changed into your special dance clothes, okay princess?”

“Yes, Mummy,” Susie said again, with another curtsey. Then she waddled hurriedly after her mother, wrinkling her nose at the horrible, yucky wet feeling of her diaper squishing between her legs.

Once they reached her bedroom, her nursery, Susie couldn’t stop herself scrunching up her face in disgust at the baby-pink wallpaper, the large crib, the changing table, and the childish toys that littered the carpet. She didn’t want to pull a face, but Mummy had told her that was how she was supposed to react to things she didn’t like. No more superior sneers. No more cold stares. Just wrinkling her nose and pulling what Mummy called her ‘yucky face’.

Mrs Taylor turned around to her daughter and lifted her frock up and over her head, leaving her bare-chested. Susie tried to cover her breasts, but her mother smacked her hands away. “No baby. There’s no need to cover your boobies. You haven’t got anything Mummy hasn’t seen before.” Susie’s lower lip trembled as her hands dropped immediately to her side. Her mother slipped her shoes off her feet, leaving her in nothing but her squishy wet nappy and her frilly ankle socks. “What a soggy girl!” Mrs Taylor cooed, probing the discoloured front of Susie’s diaper with her fingers. “You’re Mummy’s widdle pee-pee pants, aren’t you precious? Yes you are! Yes you are! But I don’t think you need a change just yet. That can wait until later. Let’s finish getting you dressed.”

Susie could only stand there like a doll as her mother pulled a ridiculous tutu up her legs and over her nappy. The puffy frills stuck out from her waist, failing spectacularly to conceal her bulging potty pants. Next, a pair of ballet shoes over her socks, and finally a pair of glittery pink fairy wings that slipped into place over her shoulders.

“There we go!” Mrs Taylor announced happily. “Fully dressed! Come and take a look at yourself, cutie.” She led her daughter over to the floor-length mirror and stood her in front of it.

Susie almost started crying when she saw how absurd she looked. An attractive women in her early twenties (as her bare breasts made clear) dressed up like a little girl pretending to be a fairy princess, her wet diaper peeking out beneath the hem of her tutu, letting everyone know she wasn’t even mature enough for toilets. She gritted her teeth and fought to keep her face set. She didn’t want to give her mother the satisfaction of seeing her cry like a baby, but she still couldn’t stop herself from pulling her yucky face.

“Awww, what’s that look for, sweetie?” Mrs Taylor cooed. “Who’s Mummy’s pretty baby? Who’s my pretty little girl?”

“Me Mummy!” Susie blurted. The words spilled from her lips beyond her control. “Me a pwetty giwl!”

Her mother laughed. “That’s right, sweetie! Now let’s go and show you off to Mummy’s friends, and you can do your little dance just like we practiced.”

“Yes Mummy,” Susie said. She tried desperately to keep her feet rooted to the floor, but it was useless. She was nothing but a passenger in her own body when her mother gave her an order. She followed her mother out of her nursery and down the stairs towards the living room. The sounds of conversation reached her ears. Her mother’s twisted friends had been delighted to see Susie ‘put back in her place’.

A chorus of laughter rang out once Susie entered the room, and her lower lip trembled again. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor, wishing it would swallow her up and end this nightmare.

“Say hello to your Aunties, princess,” her mother ordered. “Just like Mummy told you to do.”

A big dumb smile spread over Susie’s face at once. She looked up and waved enthusiastically at the five women sitting on the sofas and chairs. “Hewwo Aunties!”

“Awww!” they all cooed in unison.

“Hi baby!”

“Aren’t you just the cutest!”

“That outfit is much more appropriate than all those silly things you used to wear!”

“I could just gobble you up!”

“I’m so glad you’re back where you belong, little one!”

“Little Susie-wusie wanted to show you all the dance she’s been practising,” Mrs Taylor announced. “It’s a bit different from the dancing she used to do when she was out partying at university, back when she thought she was a big girl, but she’s still very proud of it. Go on, sweetie, sing your little song for us!”

Susie tried once more, desperately, to control her body. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t disobey her mother. “I’m a little baby,” she sang, to the tune of I’m A Little Teapot. “Wet and dumb!” She struggled to hold back her tears. “Here is my nappy…” She patted it. “And here is my bum!” She spun around, stuck out her padded bottom, and wiggled it at her mother’s cackling friends. “When… I get… all stinky…” she sang between grunts, sinking down into a squat and straining to fill her diaper just like Mummy had ordered her to do. She felt sick and disgusted at what her traitorous body was doing. The seat of her nappy bulged and sagged. “Here me shout!” she sobbed, getting up and turned back around to face her audience with tears running down her cheeks, her loaded diaper now sagging halfway down to her knees. “Mummy!” she cried. “I did a poo-poo in my pants!”

Her mother’s friends shrieked with laughter and applauded, while Mrs Taylor smiled, darkly satisfied, and pulled her tearful daughter into a hug. “There, there, stinky-bum,” she cooed. “It’s okay. Mummy’s very proud of you for doing your cute little song and dance. It’s only to be expected that you pooped your pants. You might have thought you were a mature, independent woman who was clever enough to go off to university, but now you know you’re just a big, silly baby who can’t even stop herself making yucky messes in her nappy.”

“But you made me!” Susie whined. All her complaints came out in an annoying, whiny voice now, ever since her mother told her that was how she was to complain about things. “I can control myself!”

“Awww, is my widdle Susie-wusie being a fussy-pants?” Mrs Taylor crooned. “I think she is!” Then she leaned close to her daughter’s ear and whispered an order. “Throw a tantrum, Susie. Right now.”

Immediately, Susie lost control of her emotions. “I’m not a BABY!” she screeched, stamping her feet and pumping her fists madly the moment her mother had pulled away. “I wanna go back to college! I wanna go to parties and have sex with boys! I wanna be a grown-up again!” She stomped about stupidly, looking utterly ridiculous in her tutu and fairy wings, her bare breasts and her stinky diaper both jiggling wildly as she bounced up and down like an overgrown toddler. “I don’t wanna be a stupid baby! I’m a big girl! I’m a BIG GIRL!”

Susie tried to calm herself down. She knew this was exactly what her mother wanted – to make her to look like an absurd, oversized two-year-old – but just as it had been for months now, even since the Magician had put her in this state, she was completely unable to disobey her Mummy. Even her little ‘rebellions’ were controlled, only a means to humiliate her further by forcing her to act like the anger she felt at her situation was merely typical toddler fussiness. So Susie could do nothing as her body dropped to the floor and started kicking its legs and pounding the carpet, bawling its eyes out and shrieking that it was a big girl.

“Uh-oh!” her mother sang, glancing knowingly at her friends. “I think little Susie just earned herself some smacky bum-bum time!”

They all laughed, even while Susie continued to scream and shout.

“That naughty girl definitely needs a red bottom!” said one.

“Babies are often like this,” said another. “I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised that Susie is too. I’m sure a spanking will sort her out!”

Mrs Taylor smirked as she dragged Susie to her feet, sat down in a chair, and pulled her flailing adult daughter over her knees. “Bad baby!” she scolded, bringing her hand down on Susie’s bottom. “Very naughty girl, Susie-poo! This is exactly why Mummy can’t let you grow up! Imagine, still throwing tantrums at your age!”

Susie cried and thrashed as her mother spanked her, alternating between smacking what little of her bottom wasn’t covered by her nappy, and bringing her palm down forcefully on the seat of her baby-pants to make the mess inside squish horribly against her bum.

This was her life now, Susie knew. Toddler activities and tantrums and spankings. No free will. Just a doll for her controlling mother’s amusement. All Susie could do was hope that one day her mother would let her grow up again, or the Magician would take pity on her and undo what he’d done. But Susie had a feeling that wouldn’t be for a very long time.

#mellowsadistic

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ken-dom · 9 months

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Ken After Dark

Ken x reader

2.3k words

Gorgeous artwork created for this fic by the wonderful @dranna 💖

Summary: Ken has a dirty secret that you’ll only discover if you skip girls night.

Author’s Notes: I have two headcanons for Ken — excited, needy virgin sub!Ken who cries after sex, and smug, secretly slutty dom!Ken (who also cries after sex if you praise him).

I originally posted this to my main blog but I'm re-posting all my work here to have everything in one place due to an unresolved tagging issue on my main.

Warnings/content: NSFW, 18+, dom!Ken, f!reader, Ken has a huge praise kink, blow job, voice kink if you squint, crying, aftercare, reference to bitter competition between Kens, it’s still light and fun in places so expect talk of disco pants during the blow job and references to the stupid shit he says it’s a Ken fic what do you expect

Ken pulled away, lips swollen and cheeks flushed, leaving you breathless beneath him.

‘You like that?’ he smirked, voice dark and low. It wasn’t the voice you were used to hearing from him at the beach; light, fun… eager. It was almost dangerous, and it caused your legs to tremble.

And yes, you did like it, that hot-blooded kiss that spread from a warm tingle on your lips to searing heat pooling at your core, so you nodded, burning up under the intensity of his gaze as he awaited the answer he craved.

‘Yeah? Well, there’s a lot more where that came from,’ he growled, grabbing your jaw and roughly dragging you back to him for a deeper, more ferocious kiss that frankly didn’t last long enough. ‘I can show you things you couldn’t comprehend.’

Bet Ken couldn’t comprehend them either, Ken thought bitterly as he rolled his hips to press his erection into your thigh with a loud groan. The sensation soothed his nagging jealousy for a moment.

‘Show me, Ken,’ you cooed, desperate for more.

‘Only if you beg.’

Your eyes widened at his response, his commanding voice rolling through you like a vibration.

‘Please, Ken- I- I need you to show me…’ you breathed, hypnotised by the deadly glint in his eyes.

Yeah, that’s right, beg. You’re begging me. Not Ken.

‘On your knees,’ he snarled against your lips, one hand swiftly slapping and then grabbing a handful of your ass. ‘Now.’

You followed his instruction without question, slipping down onto the floor to kneel before him as he stood above you, freeing himself from his disco pants and guiding your lips to his impressive cock. He smiled down smugly when he heard the gasp you couldn’t contain at the sight of it, sparkling precum already leaking from the angry red tip, shaft throbbing within his fist.

When you’d let your thoughts wander, you always imagined Ken would be a gentle lover, easing you into a slow and gentle lovemaking session with soft touches and tender caresses and lingering kisses, focussing entirely on your pleasure before thinking of his own and delighting in sharing himself with you.

This, however, was shaping up to be a fantasy you’d never quite dared to explore, but oh, it felt so dirty and so unexpectedly good.

You suckled teasingly at the tip for a moment, taking your time to taste him. But Ken was impatient. He thrust himself hard into your mouth, choking you slightly as his length reached the back of your throat, and you began to suck, lapping at his slit each time you bobbed your head and pulled back. You were surprised to discover that you were causing him to tremble, his legs growing weak at your ministrations.

‘Ohhh… uhhhghh- UGH!’

A thrill ran through you at the desperate sounds of his pleasure. He was louder with each thrust, with each lap of your tongue and the hollowing of your cheeks, with each muffled hum you couldn’t quite get out around a mouthful of his cock, and every vibration they sent through his core.

You glanced up to see that he was biting his fist with his eyes tight shut, trying (and spectacularly failing) to keep the noise down. With every passing second you craved more, so you sucked harder, bobbed your head faster, worshipped his cock with your tongue, and before long, the first that had muffled his moans was useless.

With a final cry that would have woken the whole street if it wasn’t for girls night occupying all your neighbours a couple of streets over, he firmly wound his fist back into your locks and sharply pulled you away, your lips slipping off his length with a light pop, leaving only a string of saliva connecting you to his leaking, swollen cock as you gazed up at him.

He was a picture, breathless and flushed, barely able to keep himself together.

‘On the bed,’ he snapped after a shaky, deep breath, lips curling in delight as he watched you wipe your mouth on the back of your hand and scramble back up onto the sequin duvet.

Ken might be the coolest but he isn’t getting his dick sucked like this tonight, Ken thought, a rush of power spreading through his body, making him chuckle delightedly.

He crawled over you, pinning your wrists above your head and biting his lip as he took the sight of you in, your swollen, wet lips and dilated pupils making his cock twitch. One light stroke, he thought, and he’d be done for, so he kept himself propped up avoiding the warmth of your body against his twitching length.

‘That felt… mmh… sublime,’ he rumbled, eyes gazing longingly into yours as he bit his lip, and you swore a glint of the Ken you knew flashed behind them somewhere.

His eyes sparkled, his cheeks flushed, and you thought he would snap out of this and make love to you like Beach Ken would. Needy and whiny and considerate…

He blinked, shook his head, whipped off his jacket and top and glared at you again, a snarl playing across his pretty lips.

‘I need to fuck you now. You deserve my cock for sucking it so good. Do you want that? Do you want me to make you mine?’

Nodding eagerly, you placed your hands gently on his chiselled chest, breathless as you caressed his perfect body. Ken’s eyes slid closed and he turned his face away, and for a moment you thought he was crying. But before you had a chance to show him any more softness, or notice that he had actually let out a soft sob at the tender way you’d touched him, he gripped your hips roughly to hold you firmly in place beneath him, devouring you with his eyes once again as he pushed himself inside.

Your eyes rolled back as he stretched you, sculpted hips digging hard into your flesh with each delicious thrust, fucking into you so hard you weren’t sure the bed would hold up.

You leaned up to kiss him, but he stopped you with another command; one that he really needed, and his orgasm was so near that he needed it now.

‘Tell me you- ah!- notice me? Tell me I’m- ahh!’

He sounded weaker somehow, quieter, as he tried to hold off his climax for just a few more seconds. He was trying to uphold this seductive, dominating version of himself, but he couldn’t quite keep it up with his peak nearing so rapidly and thoughts of you treating him softly filling his mind. All jealous thoughts of Ken had been overtaken by thoughts of you. There was only you. He needed you.

‘T-tell me… please-’ he whimpered.

‘You’re so hot, Ken,’ you panted, ‘you’re… mmh- amazing at kissing, god, I never would have imagined how good, ohh!- and you’re sexy and handsome and… Ken, I- I need you, my body aches for you- I’m so close-’

Ken intoxicated your mind, fucking you with such abandon you couldn’t quite think of any more words. It was just him. Everything was him, from your fingertips to the depths of your aching core.

You clawed at his back, and his orgasm ripped through him, harder and more satisfying than any he could remember. His throbbing cock was helped along by the timing of your own climax, walls clenching tight around his length and heels digging into his back as his fists gripped the sheets, until he finally collapsed on top of you.

‘Wow,’ he grunted against your chest.

As soon as the last drop of his glittery seed had filled you and he had begun to soften, he pushed himself up to roll off you, turning away as you lay shaky and breathless beside him.

You expected him to leave. As much as you’d enjoyed your experience with this new After Dark version of Ken, it also left you questioning whether he would be decent enough to even kiss you goodnight now he’d got what he wanted. You were just another doll he’d used and had his fun with. Tomorrow he would move onto another. You’d never see him the same way at the beach again, that was for sure.

Shivering, you slipped the covers up over yourself, waiting for the moment he would pull his shimmery pants back on and make an excuse to get back to… whatever he actually did in his free time. Apart from this, of course.

As you sighed and turned away too, not wanting to experience the humiliating sting of actually having to watch him leave, you heard what sounded like a whiny sob.

‘Ken?’

Peering over at him, your hand hesitated midair before softly caressing his shoulder. He was trembling, you realised, and when he moved his own hands away from his face you saw that he was crying, too.

‘Ken… didn’t you like it?’ you whispered, humiliation prickling at your cheeks.

He began to wail then, pressing his face into the nearest pillow in an attempt to muffle the sounds.

‘You said I’m hot,’ he sobbed dramatically, ‘you… you really think that? You said you ache for me! No one has ever even said I’m a good kisser… until today I thought I was only good at beach! Is it too much to want to hear that I’m hot now and again? But you actually think I am! And you… need me? I’m needed?’

He expected you to kick him out. They always did. He was pathetic. The brief moments of feeling safe and in control he experienced during these encounters was never really worth it in the end. He always ended up alone again.

As he resigned himself to picking himself up off your bed and moving on, the comforting warmth of your arm wrapping around him, scooping him to your chest to hold him close caused him to gasp.

‘Everything I said was true,’ you said softly, lips ghosting against his ear. ‘You’ve been doing this because you’re lonely, haven’t you?’

He nodded, shame running cold through his veins. Who would want him now?

‘There’s no need,’ you soothed, pressing your lips gently against his ear, ‘you are wanted, Ken. You are so incredibly wanted.’

You felt him relax a little in your embrace then, and he sighed, a long and trembling sigh that steadied his uneven breaths.

‘We could do it again? Softer, maybe…’ you leant over to place a lingering kiss on his damp cheek. ‘Slower, too… let me show you another way, Ken?’

‘Show me,’ he whined, finally turning to you. ‘Please.’

You hooked a leg around his waist, dragging his hips to yours as you kissed him softly, playfully nipping at his lips between deeper moments of finding his tongue to dance with yours.

‘This feels so good,’ he breathed weakly into your mouth, a sad smile pulling at his lips. It was overwhelming, all this affection he’d never before felt.

‘You feel amazing…’ You guided him back to you, feeling his arousal against your core and shifting your hips to take him in once again, rocking slowly to find a much more peaceful, connected release. ‘You feel… incredible,’ you whispered, voice breaking, ‘and you need this, don’t you baby?’

A tear rolled down Ken’s cheek. Lost for words, he simply huffed in disbelief, smiling against your lips.

‘You’re so good at this… at making me feel good… god, I need you, Ken, I need you…’

You guided his hand between your flush bodies to the apex of your thighs, his fingers finding your aching clit as you showed him how to touch you.

He was utterly taken with you, not just consumed with hunger for a hard fuck just to feel desired for a few seconds. Now he was simply filled with awe, eyes wide, watching your face contorting in pleasure he was giving you.

‘That’s it, oh, Ken, don’t stop! You’re doing so good… so goo-ohhh!’

That’s all it took. He came again, harder than before, trying to maintain eye contact with you but falling so weak he could only sob madly into the crook of your neck as he emptied his seed inside you for the second time.

The strength of his grip on your shoulder, the way his head dropped to nestle against you as he panted through his pleasure, the elegant fingers dancing across your sensitive nub, his thick cock buried, seed emptying inside you as you writhed against one another… you could only scream his name as your pleasure reached heights you’d never known.

You slowed the rolling of your hips and held him safe to your chest again.

‘That was amazing. You’re amazing,’ you soothed, fingers stroking through his soft hair.

Ken’s overwhelmed tears quickly turned into tears of joy, his grip still firm on your shoulder and his face pressed against your chest.

‘Please may I… stay here tonight?’ he muttered quietly, nervous you’d take back your affections at the thought of actually sharing your bed with him for more than this.

‘Like a sleepover?’ you smiled excitedly, tilting his chin up so you could see him.

Ken smiled dreamily. ‘Yeah. Like a sleepover.’

‘As long as I get to brush your hair and cuddle up to that hot body of yours and… maybe hold your hand at the beach tomorrow?’

He blushed madly, hand seeking yours, fingers interlocking. ‘You really like my body?’

‘Who wouldn’t like your body? Who wouldn’t like you? Come here.’ You pull him up until you’re face to face again. ‘I really like you Ken.’

‘I really like you, too.’

You really meant it all. All thoughts of Ken or being turned down in favour of girls’ night had long since faded from his mind.

All there was now, was you.

#not s f w 💀#ken #ken x reader #ken x you #ken smut #ken x y/n #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling x you #ryan gosling!ken #ryan!ken #ryan gosling #rg!ken #ryan gosling ken #ken barbie #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #ken-dom writes #ken fic #kenergy

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hanafubukki · 5 months

Text

Summary: Silver asks you out on a future date.

You were freezing.

The scarf Lilia leant you and Silver helped at least.

So did Silver’s body heat.

Which you tried not to think about.

And failed spectacularly.

“Here Prefect, you can use it.”

Silver tried wrapping you fully in Lilia’s scarf.

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. You’re cold as well. I don’t want you catching a cold. You need to stay tip top shape for whatever’s ahead.”

Before Silver could protest, you continued, “Besides, if I didn’t know any better, I would think Lilia was subconsciously pushing us together.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“He might be.”

What?

You startle.

Silver looked at you determined, “Father knows I have a crush on you.”

You gaped rather unflatteringly.

You had to say something.

Anything!

“Are you going to tell me that you’ve fallen for me body and soul next?”

Anything but that!

“I have,” Silver hesitated, “Father said the best way to court someone is to be straightforward with your feelings.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yes. I plan to when this is all over.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Will you accept?”

You couldn’t help but smile at him, “You’ll have to wait and see until then.”

��I look forward to it.”

Silver smiled at you fondly.

Oh.

Your heart raced.

You were in trouble.

You had already fallen.

You were looking forward to this dream being over.

The answer ready the minute he asked.

I can just imagine Sebek and Grim looking at you and Silver with the most “are you kidding me?/wtf” face. 😂😂

Both of you in your own bubble while the other four (five?) watches the cute scene in front of them.

Inner dream Lilia is patting himself on the back 😆

#hana queues #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst silver x reader #twst silver #twst x you #twisted wonderland x you #silver vanrouge x reader #silver vanrouge #twst imagines #twst scenarios #x reader #lilia vanrouge mention

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velvet4510 · 4 months

Text

(Yes, this is my 1000th defense of Frodo and I don’t care. I will defend him forever.)

Let’s just appreciate for a sec how the last page of The Silmarillion tells it like it is: it says Frodo “into the Fire in which it was first wrought cast the Great Ring of Power.”

Yes, of course it’s summarizing and not giving the details. But it tells the truth!

Look at the wording. It says it was Frodo who cast the Ring into the Fire. Who sent it into the Fire. Who placed it on the path that led to the Fire.

Did Frodo release the Ring directly from his own fingers into the Fire? No. The Ring went into the Fire when Gollum fell with it.

But does the Silmarillion say “from his fingers the Ring fell” into the Fire? No.

It says that Frodo “cast” it into the Fire.

And think about it.

Who chose to bear the burden of the Ring? Frodo.

Who carried the Ring all the way into Mordor, resisting it the entire time? Frodo.

Who gave Gollum the kindness and pity that ensured he lived? Frodo.

Who made a fool out of Sauron by running directly into the Cracks of Doom and proving wrong Sauron’s belief that the entrance did not need a locked door because nobody would ever want to destroy the Ring? Frodo.

Who was the person who actually entered the Cracks of Doom with the intent of destroying it and made Gollum take the bait? Frodo.

Who led the Ring and the reckless and impulsive Gollum onto the ledge directly above the Fire, a place Gollum never would have gone in a million years otherwise? Frodo.

So when all is said and done, was it Frodo who “cast” the Ring into the Fire?

YES.

Frodo Baggins is a hero, my friends. He failed in one action only. In his overall goal, he succeeded spectacularly. And even The Silmarillion itself admits it. So everyone who has ever experienced LOTR should admit it, too.

#lotr #jrr tolkien #lotr books #lord of the rings #the silmarillion #frodo baggins #frodo is a hero #frodo my beloved #the one ring #gollum

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galaxythreads · 5 months

Note

Loki had no right to envy thor and praise the ground frigga walked on when odin was a shitty dad to all three of his kids

Alright! Time to talk about something that is not discussed enough: jealousy between siblings that grew up in parental abuse/neglectful situations.

As someone who grew up in an abusive/neglectful environment and has siblings, + knows many people who have the same set of parameters, jealousy between siblings is sort of natural byproduct because guess what!

Parents never, never, never abuse/neglect every kid in their family in exactly the same way.

My parents were awful to my siblings in ways they weren't to me, but I'm jealous of the good things they did to for them because they didn't do that with me (i.g. when I was looking for a job last year, i got yelled at every time I failed; when my sister was looking for a job, my parents were very present for her emotionally and assured her she was doing the best she could when she didn't get the job. Their patience was absurd to me) Stuff like that + bigger things. If we were neglected/abused in exactly the same way, my sister would have gotten yelled at, too, or I would have gotten support, but it didn't happen like that because parents don't DO that, even in healthy environments, parents are never the same parents to their kids.

Likewise in ways they were awful to my siblings, they were LESS awful to me, so my siblings are jealous of that. when you're raised in an environment where you have to fight for love and scraps of affection when your parents are in a parenting mood, you are always jealous when someone manages to get the scrap. Like yes, your siblings (often) become your closest friends and confidants in that situation because there's no one else who understands it like they do, but because the abuse/neglect is so different for everyone, it causes resentment.

So here's the thing: Thor, Hela, and Loki were not abused in the same way. Loki can have an amazing, healthy relationship with Frigga (he does not, but we can pretend for a moment) and Thor is fighting for scraps of love from her. (Parents and their parenting moods are weird) and Thor can resent Loki for that because he needs a mom too. Thor can get all the attention from Odin and have a healthier (it is not healthy) relationship with Odin, and Loki can resent him for that, even though he has a "good" relationship with Frigga, because he still needs a dad. Hela can have been banished and raised as Odin's sword and have NO good or even good-ish relationships with Frigga and Odin and she resents Thor and Loki for that because she needed parents.

But is all their trauma valid even though the WAY they were traumatized is different? Yes. Can we look at them and objectively choose the "worst" victim between the three of them? No. We can't. Because different things traumatize people differently. And why should we? it's not a competition. Even though parental abuse/neglect has a tendency to pit siblings against each other despite (usually) said siblings best efforts otherwise, it is NOT A COMPETITION.

Loki has every right to be angry with Odin over what he did to him even though Odin was terrible to all his children because IT! IS! NOT! A! COMPETETION! ABOUT WHO WAS ABUSED MORE! The most suffering victim doesn't "earn" the right to be traumatized. everyone was traumatized. Everyone gets therapy. They're just going to talk about different things in therapy and THEY ARE ALL STILL TRAUMATIZED.

I guarantee to you that if they were real people, Thor would absolutely be jealous of Loki and Hela. Loki would be jealous of Hela and Thor. Hela would be jealous of Thor and Loki, EVEN THOUGH all of them are being abused, it's just the fact they're not being abused in the same way.

And this is WHY I am always in awe of their relationship in canon because it is one of the best written sibling relationships under abuse I have ever seen because it is REAL. (The Umbrella Academy s1 did this spectacularly, also, btw) Sibling relationships under abuse are so so so messy because everyone is in survival mode and it causes SO MANY issues.

and guess what! Everyone IS jealous of each other

^ Thor's resentment that he wasn't taught anything by Frigga (listen to the way he says this, he is very jealous and bitter, i WISH they had poked this more)

^ hela jealous odin replaced her with Thor

^ loki jealous that Thor got more attention than he did from their parents + people in general (all this attention wasn't a good thing) (funnily enough, for someone who is said to be SUPER jealous, this is the only time in canon I can think of Loki actually admitting that he is)

so anyway, sibling resentment HAPPENS but everyone is still abused/neglected and it all sucks and EVERYONE deserves therapy. And hey, if Frigga decided to actually be a parent to one of her kids (she didn't) then I am HAPPY because at least SOMEONE got a parent, even though Thor deserved a mom just as much as Loki did.

#thor meta #loki meta #hela meta #hela #loki #thor #odin's a+ parenting #child abuse #we do not talk about sibling relationships and abuse enough #it would have helped me so much when I was younger if I knew any of this instead I just thought i was a monster #turns out i was just 13 and exhausted

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wardenparker · 2 months

Text

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 9

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 17.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Surprises, vomiting, anxiety, spectacularly bad decision making, talking of children/pregnancy. Morning sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, consensual choking, light dom/sub play, rough sex. Summary: Your 30th birthday is not at all what you expected. Not at at all. Notes: Beloved darlings, please forgive any errors I might have missed. Ya girl has had another busy week, but at least the sickness has lifted!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

It’s been a perfect, magical day in Marcus’s opinion. Waking up with you and spending the entire day together hasn’t tamed the desire to be with you, it’s only fanned that desire. Now he gets to watch you get ready for the party, stopping by his apartment to pick up a suit, you had both decided that he would change here at the inn with you.

“So, is this place actually a pub or did my mother book something swanky and just lie through her teeth?” You ask, eyes gliding down his frame as you slip into your least worn little black dress for the party. It’s the one you always think is just a little too festive or too vintage, and it always gets swapped out for something more reasonable. Marcus had insisted you wear it when he heard you say ‘too’ anything.

He smirks slightly and debates on whether or not to tell you. “You have to be surprised, but yes.” He chuckles. “I think Round Robin counts as a pub.”

“It is not Round Robin.” It gets a laugh out of you, though, making you snort inelegantly as you struggle to zip your dress. “Their food doesn’t meet Dad’s approval. He’d never okay it.”

“Then it’s a good thing that we are actually going to Statesman.” He admits with a grin, moving over to zip up the back of your dress for you and kissing your shoulder when he’s done.

“Statesman…” In the second it takes you to search your memory for why that name sounds familiar, you light up. “Like The Statesman Club? I’ve always wanted to try that place!”

“Good.” He grins at you and picks up your necklace to help you put it on. “We will try all the fancy whiskeys we want.”

“Well now I just feel positively spoiled.” Partially from the choice of location, but also Marcus being such a gentleman.

“It is your birthday.” He reminds you, sliding the chain around your neck. “You should be spoiled.”

“And when it’s your birthday, you’ll be spoiled too,” you promise him, grinning at his reflection in the mirror.

“We can cross that bridge later.” His hands rest on your shoulders gently. “Tonight is about you.”

"Are you still okay with me telling everyone?" If he's not then you'll keep your soulmate status to yourself tonight, or for however long he wants to keep that particular fact private.

“Of course I am.” He stares at you in the mirror, unable to believe what a lucky bastard he is. “You never need to worry about that.”

"I just thought I should check." You beam at him, turning around in his arms to wrap your own around his neck and kiss him. "Seemed polite to me."

“Shout it from the rooftop and splash it in the Post.” He urges you. “I will happily agree and brag to everyone who asks.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you seriously consider doing just that but figure somebody at The Post will have a field day writing their own little editorial about it when it becomes public knowledge. "I love you, too."

“I love you.” He promises and bites his lip. “Do you want your birthday present now? Or at the party?”

"You didn't have to get me anything." There's no chance he would have listened to you if you had protested beforehand, but you still do. Just having him is gift enough.

He scoffs and lifts a brow, waiting for your real answer.

The burn in your cheeks is enough, and you grin again, unrepentantly. "Is there enough time to do it now?"

“Of course there is.” He promises and pulls out the gift he had put in his jacket pocket. It might be too much too soon, but he couldn’t resist.

The small jewelry box all tied up in ribbon in his hand is unmistakable, but you tilt your head slightly and look up at him curiously. "Really?" A book maybe, or flowers, or even something a little nerdy and sweet – all of those things you would have accepted easily. But jewelry is a very big gesture for a relationship that is so new.

“You said you also jump in quickly and I— well, it’s what I’m thinking.” Marcus hopes you don’t hate it.

You take the little box from him carefully and untie the carefully done ivory ribbon. The hinge of the box is tight, like it's barely been used, and when it snaps open in your fingers you gasp softly at the shining, shimmering ring inside. An eternity ring of sparkling heart-shaped stones set in white gold reflects the light in your room beautifully. "Marcus?"

“It’s a promise ring.” It seems like a childish thing at first, but he wanted you to know how serious he is. “The prelude for what is to come.”

And just like that, your heart swells for him all over again, and the surety that you made the right choice is ingrained in you. "I'll never take it off."

“If it fits.” He jokes, taking the box from you and plucking the ring out of its velvety crevice. “This is my promise to you, my soulmate.” He whispers as he takes your hand. “One day I will marry you. We will build a life together of mutual respect and love. We will be happy and I will always cherish you.”

"Am I allowed to promise you the same thing?" You watch in awe as the band slips easily onto your finger and you flex your fingers to see if it will shake free. When it doesn't, you beam at him all over again. "To promise to love and cherish you and be your partner while we build this relationship?"

“Absolutely.” He smiles softly and leans in to press his lips to yours gently. “Happy birthday, hummingbird.”

"We should go." Even whispering against his lips, you feel giddy and giggly in the moment. "Before I drag you back into bed and make you even more promises."

“Promises, promises.” He teases. “That is for tonight when we are both a little tipsy, very handsy, and more than a little in love with the idea of being together.”

The drive out to The Statesman Club goes easily and quickly, with Agent Bailey following behind you all the way. From the amount of cars in the parking lot it's obvious that your mother had Marcus bring you to the party after everyone had arrived – or if not then there are a huge amount of people coming tonight. "Seems like an awful lot of fuss," you hum, slipping your hand into Marcus's when he opens your door.

“You’re worth the fuss.” He reminds you, helping you out of the car and he can’t help but admire you. “I forgot to tell you that you look stunning.”

"That's just because I'm happy," you insist, tugging him toward the front of the building. "And because you look absolutely stunning yourself, so I'm just reflecting it back at you."

He chuckles, knowing that he could argue that but it’s your birthday and he can’t argue with the birthday girl. “Remember, you can’t butter me up anymore.” He jokes. “My bag is already at your place; I’m going home with you.”

"What if I'm just telling the truth?" It's like walking on Cloud 9 as you go hand-in-hand with him up to the front door. There's a desk inside with a woman in all black, and she smiles to see you coming – clearly expecting you but too professional to do more than smile.

Marcus gives his name as if he were the one setting the reservation, but they know where to guide you. “Good evening.” She moves from behind the desk to come out beside you. “My name is Ginger and I will be escorting you inside.”

"Thank you, Ginger." It's all very dramatic, you think, but you still follow the woman around a corner and past the main dining room, up a flight of stairs that is dimly lit to put focus on decades and decades of Statesman ads that ends in a set of double doors. This must be their private function room, because the moment she pushes open the doors, all hell breaks loose.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!” Is screamed at you in various pitches and volumes, making you jump slightly even if you had been anticipating it. Marcus laughs, drawing you into the circus of a room as your friends and family press close.

“This is what not overdoing it looks like, huh Mom?” You’re laughing, though, and hug her first out of everybody in the room. You know how impossible it is for her to get to do anything personal already so it’s doubly amazing that she not only put this together but managed to attend.

“Of course it is.” She hugs you fiercely and tears up slightly as she remembers the day you slipped into the world. “It’s small compared to the inauguration party.”

“Which inauguration party?” There were three official ones and then plenty of other unofficial, and you smirk at her even when you pull back. “I can’t believe this place let you book in. It must be crawling with Secret Service.”

“Just a few.” She snorts and shrugs. “I’m the President. It’s time I stop letting the office run my life.”

“Well, thank you.” That resolve won’t last because it can’t, but you’re glad that it is here for tonight.

Your father is next to swoop in for a hug, cooing over his baby being all grown up, and you groan playfully because he gets like this every single time one of you has a birthday. You, Alex, and June all get fussed over equally and it’s actually kind of sweet. Tonight, though, you reach back and take your soulmate’s hand. “You guys remember Marcus?” Of course they do, but you’re still going to be polite about it.

“Sir. Ma’am.” Marcus would offer his hand, but you are currently holding it. “Nice to see you again.”

"Very nice to see you again, Marcus." Having dispensed with Agent Pike except for formalities, the president smiles. "And very punctual. I like that."

“Timing was important tonight.” He agrees, squeezing your hand gently. “The birthday girl needed to be here for the party to really begin.”

"Then let's get this party started." The phrase sounds just as odd and stilted coming out of her mouth as she thought it would, but that doesn't matter. "Make sure you say hi to everyone, Birdie. And try whatever you want to drink. But I think you'll like both cocktails."

Marcus smiles and nods toward the private bar for the party, a fit cowboy with a mustache behind the counter with a toothy smile and a name tag with ‘Jack’ on it. “Shall we go get a drink before you mingle?”

"Absolutely." Whatever your parents have picked out is always good, and you want nothing more than to get the night started.

“What do you want to have?” Marcus asks as he reads the small, personalized cocktail menu that is being served exclusively tonight in addition to the regular drinks.

"The Sour Red sounds good." Cranberry and cherry in a whiskey sour sounds like a great way to start the night.

"It sounds great." A voice from beside you huffs, and you squeal with delight to see your best friend appear out of nowhere next to you. Sydney grins and envelops you into a gigantic hug, as Marcus smirks proudly behind you.

“You look amazing!” The soft, flowing maternity dress is the first of its kind you’ve seen her wear and it looks gorgeous on her, making her look like a work of art. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” She insists, shaking her head at you. “Juan said he’s going to treat you to lunch when he comes back, and he’s so sorry.”

“Absolute sap of a man,” you huff, laughing affectionately. Juan really does treat you like a little sister sometimes and it’s very sweet. “He doesn’t have to do that. But…if he really wants to…” you glance back at Marcus with a giddy smile. “Why don’t we plan a double date?”

“That sounds good.” Marcus nods. “What do you think, Sydney?” He’s willing to do whatever you want and having a night with the other couple would be nice.

“Oh, one hundred percent.” She’s already nodding, clutching her ginger ale in one hand and grinning to see the two of you together like this. “That will be awesome.”

“I’ll order the drinks so you ladies can talk?” Marcus orders, squeezing your hand when you nod and moving up to the bartender.

"I don't know if I said it enough, but you did the amazingly last night. The wedding was perfect." You hug her again, always mindful of your growing goddaughter between you. "I owe you."

“It was all thanks to you.” She reminds you with a soft hug. “Looks like you had a good evening after the wedding party left.”

"Maybe." The meager protest has your cheeks on fire immediately, and you bury your face in your hands. "He's...god, Syd, he's absolutely incredible."

“Really?” She lights up, happy that you are so enthralled with your soulmate. “So you had a really good night?”

"I need you to promise me that you're going to react in the most normal way you've ever reacted to anything in your life," you murmur, intentionally lowering your voice and glancing around furtively. "Most boring reaction ever. Promise?"

“Boring – absolutely.” She nods eagerly, aware you’re about to bust unless you spill whatever secret has you positively glowing. “He’s the best you’ve ever had? Hung like a horse?” She guesses playfully.

"Haven't actually had sex yet, but yes to the second." The smirk that breaks over your face is unapologetic, but you clear your throat, and intentionally reach out to hold your best friend's hand with the ring Marcus gifted you a mere hour ago glinting in the club's lighting. "Most normal and boring you've ever been," you remind her quietly.

Her frown when she feels something makes her look down and then her eyes bug out wide, making her look like a cartoon character for a brief moment. The smallest squeak comes out before she buttons up her lip and her entire body seems to vibrate in energy as her gaze darts back up to you.

"It's a promise ring." As quietly as you can when Sydney is practically buzzing out of control, you're still grinning from ear to ear. "I told you he's incredible."

“I can’t believe— okay, I can.” She huffs quietly and as discreetly as she can, she’s looking at the ring. “Honey, it’s beautiful.” She whispers softly, melting and giving Marcus Pike all the brownie points for romance.

"I don't know when he had time to get it," you admit, trying not to bring too much attention to the piece of jewelry and end up having to explain it to a whole room full of people. "We were together all day."

“He must have bought it the day he went golfing with Michael.” Sydney guessed with small, dreamy sigh. “They were talking about Michael’s buying a wedding day gift for Joyce. He was planning on jewelry.”

“That must have been it.” It’s even dreamier, then, in your mind. Because that truly was the very beginning of things.

“He’s got good taste.” She hums in approval. “This is the real deal.”

"It's the first time in my life that I've really felt like I'm on the same page as my partner," you gush to her, right before Marcus comes over with your drinks.

“One Sour Red for you.” Marcus hands you the drink. “And I ordered the Sweet Delight for me so we can also try it.” He has no problem sharing drinks with you.

The second cocktail on the specialties list was something like a cross between a sweet tea and a mint julep, and since you had fully intended on trying both, he seems to have read your mind. "Perfect." Him, the whole day, tonight, all of it.

“Great.” He holds up the Sweet Delight in a toast. “Happy birthday, hummingbird.” He smiles. “May your thirties be the beginning of the greatest adventures of your life.”

"I have a feeling they will be." You hold up your Sour Red and Sydney adds her ginger ale to the coast, making the three of you a very happy trio.

“Now, I don’t want to monopolize your night.” Marcus insists after taking a drink. “I can hold your purse, but you need to talk to people and if you want me to keep Sydney company, I’m good with that.”

"I'm going to use having to find you as an excuse to get out of saying hello when I start to burn out." It looks like your mother has assembled a few dozen people here tonight and you know you're going to need to take a break from all the chit chat at least a couple of times. "Thank you, love."

“Absolutely.” He smiles at you in reassurance. “Just lift your glass and I’ll come rescue you.”

“Okay.” Leaning up, you leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth and whisper an “I love you” before you scoot away.

Marcus watches you walk away with the look of a man completely besotted with his soulmate. “I love you too.” He murmurs after you.

“That didn’t take long at all.” Sydney grins, sipping her soda like she’s won the lottery.

“Too quick?” He glances back at your best friend and wonders if she worries about you jumping in too fast with him despite being your soulmate.

“Not for her.” She chuckles quietly. “Hell, even Juan and I knew within about two days that he was going to come back East with me after we met. It’s just…it’s nice to see someone moving her speed with her. Supporting her at light speed, ya know?”

“I’m not going to hurt her.” He promises Syd with a solemn vow.

“Oh, I know you’re not.” Her smile turns determined and icy. “Because if you do? Juan knows exactly how to make sure no one ever finds your body. And I think you value life too much to risk the wrath of her best friend and her siblings. Don’t underestimate little Junie.”

Marcus doesn’t scoff, nor does he chuckle and brush it off. He takes a sip of his drink and looks at your best friend squarely. “I won’t, and I never piss off the people who cook food.” He tells her. “They have ingenious ways for disposing of a body.”

“She’s been through a lot of shitty relationships.” Sydney confides. She’s glad to see Marcus taking this talk seriously. Sam had laughed and waved her off. “Listen to her, treat her well, and buy her flowers. That girl loves getting flowers.”

“What are her favorites?” He asks, wanting to make sure you have everything you want out of this relationship.

“Camellias, roses, gerber daisies…” Sydney grins. “I’ll text you a list.”

“Please do.” Marcus can do roses anytime, but he wants to give flowers that let you know that he’s just thinking about you. Ones that put a smile on your face. “And her favorite bath soaps and scents.”

“I’ll have a list of favorites and least favorites ready for you tomorrow,” she promises. “But I have a big one for you, first.”

“What’s that?” He knows Sydney likes him, thinks that he will be good for you, so it’s best that he stay on her good side.

"I've never seen her prouder to be out with a partner than she was with you at that State dinner," Sydney tells him honestly. "She gets skittish about the spotlight, but she collected every single paper that had a picture of the two of you. It's..." she smiles, actually, and her eyes find you in the crowd of family and friends around the room. "It's a kind of confidence that is new for her, but I think it's great."

Marcus follows her gaze and his own face softens and he takes on a slightly sappy smile. “I only want to support her and prop her up.” He promises your best friend earnestly. “Whatever she wants to do.”

"She has the career she wants. And now the right partner." Syd flashes a beaming grin. "Next up is the wedding and kids, Pike. I hope you're ready for a deluge of family fun."

“I’ve always wanted kids.” He admits quietly, pushing one hand into a pocket. Taking another sip and his eyes follow you around the room. “Don’t mind a wedding, but I’m more concerned about the life we build rather than the wedding we have.”

"She says she doesn't care about a wedding. That it's the marriage that counts. And she does mean it." More than anything, Sydney needs Marcus to know that this isn't any shallowness on your part, it's something she's observed. "But I see the way she moons over every single bride that comes through the inn. She wants someone to make a fuss over her without her having to ask for it. It's why she's been sighing over this birthday party like it's unnecessary but has been talking about it nonstop. Because she deserves to feel special, but she feels guilty asking for it."

“I want her to have exactly what she wants.” Marcus smiles at the idea. “The fairytale. The happily ever after.”

Nudging Marcus with her elbow, Sydney's cup of happiness is positively overflowing for you in this moment. "I have a good feeling about this."

“I hope so. Because I’m taking her to meet my folks in a few weeks.” He tells her with a grin.

Syd’s jaw drops on a disbelieving laugh. “You got her to take time off work?”

“Is that some kind of minor miracle?” He asks with a slightly proud smirk if it is. “I asked if she wanted to come and she agreed.”

“There’s nothing minor about it.” She cackles with absolute glee, knowing Juan will be just as thrilled as she is. “She hasn’t taken a vacation day in seven years. Not even for campaign events. You’ve just advised sainthood.”

“Jesus.” He whistles quietly and has a renewed admiration for your drive. “Then I’ll make sure that she relaxes and soaks up the sun while we are gone.” He grins. “Texas is the perfect place for it.”

“Perfect.” Syd grins, and holds up her glass to toast him. “Take care of our girl, Marcus. I know you will.”

“Of course I will.” Marcus watches as you discreetly lift your empty glass. “Op,” he grins back at her and lifts his own glass. “Duty calls.”

It's just a little later, while Marcus is deep into conversation with your father about something or other that you didn't quite catch, you're slowly sipping your second drink when the nearby door opens to admit a new arrival.

Sam Chase walks into the pub, straightening his jacket and smiling a bright smile at anyone who turns his way. Looking over the crowd and finding you as he scans and lifting a hand in a wave before moving towards you.

It's a surprise to see him, even if you did say that you wanted to stay friends, but you walk toward him with square shoulders and sure steps. More than ever, you know you made the right decision, and you're mature enough not to say a thing about it and just let things move forward. "Sam." When he moves forward to hug you, you let him just like you would let any other friend. "What a surprise. Are you feeling better?"

"I am." He wouldn't miss tonight for the world, not when he realized what he needed to do. He accepts the hug and squeezes you gently to him, admiring your perfume. He's missed that smell. "Happy birthday, Birdie." He uses your nickname so rarely, preferring your name, but tonight is about showing growth.

"Thank you." You're glad to not see a gift in his hands. It's almost a reprieve because you had feared he might do something overly intimate as a gesture if he did actually come. "There's some fun cocktails but the bar is open, and lots of food being passed around. I think cake is happening in just a little bit."

"That's good." He pulls back and smiles at you. "It's good to see you, I've missed talking to you."

"It's good to see you, too." Unfortunately you can't say you've missed him as much as he seems to have missed you, but the last few weeks have been so important for you. "I'm glad you came." At least that is true.

"I know you are making the rounds, so I will get a drink." Sam knows that he has to show that he is more accepting of your way of doing things and he takes your hand and squeezes it gently. "I will get a drink and then talk to you later?"

"That sounds like a good plan," you nod, motioning toward the bar. "I know you're not a whiskey guy, but they do have some nice wines stocked tonight. And champagne. Mom insisted."

"I'll see you soon." He promises, sure that the champagne is meant for the toasting of your birthday after the cake. You will be thrilled to drink it because of another celebration as well.

Alex and David are nearby and you gravitate toward them naturally, glad for some supportive faces in the sea of comfortable and uncomfortable acquaintances. Your mother had really gone all-out with the guest list.

Despite his own conversation, Marcus has kept an eye on you, frowning slightly when he sees Sam arrive. He’s not jealous, but he knows that it would be uncomfortable to you since you had broken up.

"Well that looked fun," your brother grumbles, putting an arm around your shoulders lazily when you pace over to him and his boyfriend. "Mm," you roll your eyes discreetly. "So fun. It's my own fault for saying I wanted to stay friends. I just thought...it's a very adult thing to do. And he didn't do anything wrong, really."

“He did everything wrong.” Alex snorts, rolling his eyes at you. “You just were so busy making it work you couldn’t see that.”

"You guys could have said something earlier, ya know." Still, you shrug and take a sip of your drink. "Not that it matters now."

“You were happy…ish.” Alex arches a brow at you. “Tell me you would have listened.” He challenges, knowing how stubborn you are.

"Listen to you?" Rolling your eyes dramatically for show, you wave a hand dismissively. "Of course not. Maybe David, but not you."

Both men laugh and David winks at you. “That’s my girl.” He teases.

"Everything will be fine." You're definitely reassuring yourself, not them, but that's okay. "Eat. Drink. Be merry. That's the name of the game tonight."

“Of course it is.” Alex leans in and presses his lips to your cheek. “Happy birthday sis.” He hums. “You look happy with your soulmate.”

“As happy as you are with yours.” For everything that Alex and David have gone through together, you know the light at the end of their tunnel is going to be so incredibly bright and wonderful. There isn’t a second of doubt in your mind. “He, um…he’s taking me to Texas in a couple of weeks. To meet his family.”

“Really?” Alex is surprised but he’s quickly grinning as he looks around to find Marcus watching you for a moment. Checking in on you from across the room. “Well slap my ass and call me a cowboy.”

"I'll leave that to David," you reply, snorting at the image. "But yes. Really. And I'm excited, so don't ruin it."

“You better wear a cowboy hat when you ride him.” Alex chuckles quietly and winks at you. “They say everything’s bigger in Texas.”

"I swear to god." Groaning with the ire that only a sister can truly feel, you stick your tongue out at your brother and make a face. "I'm walking away now, but you're ridiculous."

“You know I love you!” He cups one hand around his mouth to call out after you, laughing while his soulmate rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath about sibling relationships.

"Sweetheart," your mother grabs you in passing, seeing that you're headed for Marcus and not wanting to delay you too long. "Cake soon?"

"Sure, Mom." Pausing long enough to squeeze her hand, you nod to indicate you're willing to just go with the flow. The night will last however long it lasts and you're grateful for every second you get to spend with your friends. Thankfully, it seems like cake cutting won't be the very end of the night.

“How is my pretty party girl?” Marcus asks as you draw closer, pulling you to his side and swapping his full drink with your empty one. “You should try this Statesman Blackberry Reserve.” He urges you. “It’s probably the smoothest whiskey I’ve ever had in my life.”

"You trying to get me drunk, Pike?" You tease, accepting the glass and trying a sip – which earns a happy moan from you. "You're already coming home with me. You have stuff at my place."

“But you’re cute when you’re relaxed.” He jokes, smirking slightly considering that you’ve already had a conversation about drunk sex and somnophilia so you are both on the same page about what’s acceptable.

"You're always cute." Relaxed is a good word. You aren't drunk at all. Not even tipsy. But you are definitely relaxed. "Mom's going to have the cake brought out soon. Brace yourself for a deeply embarrassing speech of some kind."

Laughing quietly, he nods. “Of course. Would it not be a family birthday party if there wasn’t an embarrassing speech?”

"In this family?" You snort, barely managing to smother the sound as your mother's voice comes over a microphone so that the whole room can hear her. "Never. But that's my cue."

“Go knock them dead, hummingbird.” He whispers in encouragement and takes your drink from your hand so you can walk up beside her. It’s your night, your time to shine.

As Sydney has pointed out, the spotlight is not necessarily where you thrive. You do step up next to your mother, though, and wave awkwardly with a dopey smile on your face as she talks. The predicted speech is just as embarrassing as you thought it would be, but it’s easier to smile knowing Marcus is out there watching just a few feet away.

Now is the time. Sam watches as you demure to the crowd and duck your head in embarrassment as your mother finishes up your happy birthday speech. He straightens his tie and reaches into his pocket to pull out your gift before he edges towards the front of the room where you and your mother are standing.

Honestly if you had noticed, you might have said something. Or you might have at least looked at him questioningly. But you’re too busy avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes while people applaud a speech about you to realize that Sam has walked right up to where you and your mother are standing.

His entire relationship with you, he had watched you secretly moon over ‘grand gestures’. Sniffling during Hallmark moves or rom coms, smiling like a crazy woman when a proposal happens at your inn. This will be perfect. Your mother arches a brow when he asks for the microphone, but she hands it over anyway. “Good evening everyone, Birdie…” he begins, having carefully written out and rehearsed this speech several times. Preparing for it just as studiously as he would have a political debate.

“Sam…?” Anxiety rises like bile in the back of your throat, almost making you choke on the confusion. What in the hell?

Marcus frowns at the way that Sam turns and kneels in front of you. A collective gasp coming from the crowd pierces his heart and it’s compounded by the way you cover your mouth. Looking just like a scene from a romantic film. His gut churns and confusion and doubt makes the blood start pounding in his ears.

“Get up!” As soon as you can gather your own thoughts to get beyond shock and utter horror, you lurch forward to grab Sam and yank him up off his one stupid knee. “What the hell are you doing?” You hiss, well aware that all eyes are on you but having rocketed past giving a shit out of pure anger.

“I’m making up for my lack of spontaneity, giving you the grand gesture.” Sam smiles proudly and opens the box to show you the elaborate diamond ring that he had bought for you. “I love you, and I want to show you that I am here. You are more important than anything else.”

“Don’t do this.” Even if your voice is low, the shaking of your head is universal, and the few gasps over the opening of the jewelry box are minimally muffled when you reach out and snap the little box closed again immediately. “We broke up. Walk away and return the ring.” The urge to cry and flee is almost overwhelming but you have to make him stop.

“We had a fight, a foolish one.” Sam tells you beseechingly. “One I take complete blame for. But we are so good together. Don’t throw it away because I was too blinded by my pride.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” you tell him flatly, although you do feel bad that you clearly didn’t articulate well enough that the relationship is over and has been for two weeks now. “Please just walk away? I’m not taking you back. Tonight or ever, do you understand?” Even with your heart in your stomach, lurching there like a stone in acid, you can’t bring yourself to be cruel. You’re just desperate to be clear and get it through his head.

Sam frowns and looks around at the people who have started to go from excited to embarrassed for him. “Why?” He asks quietly. “This is what we talked about. What you wanted to plan for? Now you say no?”

“Plans changed. Maybe I changed, I don’t know.” You didn’t. And you know you didn’t. But it seems kinder to say that than to point out that your eyes are opened to how imbalanced your relationship was. “I found my person, Sam. I’m sorry that it isn’t you, but please don’t make this worse than it already is.”

“You’re really going to say no?” Sam looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “In front of all these people?” The microphone has been forgotten at his side, the conversation just between the two of you and he glances over to see Marcus Pike walking away in the crowd.

“I don’t even understand why you thought it was okay to ask.” It’s completely ruined the night rather than just being embarrassing, but one thing is obvious: Sam has turned out to be one of those men who won’t back down at the very worst of times. “No. Absolutely not. I’m with someone else and I love him. End of story.” Like the punctuation that ends a sentence, you hold up your hand to show him the ring Marcus put there just hours ago. “You should leave, Sam.”

He feels like he’s going to be sick. Unable to breathe in that second where a ring is produced and he knows if he doesn’t escape, find air, he might have a heart attack or something. It’s happening again. This time it’s even worse than before because it’s his soulmate. Marcus turns and pushes through the crowd. Hauling ass for the nearest exit as discreetly as he can while everyone else watches the romantic gesture ahead of them. Unable to hear anything but the tattoo of his heart beating out of his chest as he disappears out of the bar.

He doesn’t hear the next round of gasps inside as your birthday has turned into a farce. He doesn’t see Sam rage or crumble. He doesn’t stand and bear witness to you declaring your love for your soulmate in front of dozens of people. All he knows is that he has to get away, but he’s barely at the bottom of the stairs when you go barreling after him. “Marcus!” Thank god June saw him moving blindly through the crowd, she had pointed you in the right direction. “Marcus!”

It’s still crisp and cool when the sun goes down, hitting the doors and gasping like a drowning man when the frosty air hits him and after two gulps, he’s lurching for the bushes. He’s not so drunk he’s puking, he’s so emotional he can’t keep down the drinks and appetizers curdling on his stomach.

“Marcus, wait!” You have no idea what set of doors this is, but you saw him go through it, so you go too, almost twisting your ankle in the heels you’re wearing in the process. “Oh my god.” The second you see him, you’re moving again, reaching for his bent frame and trying to soothe him somehow. The best you can think of is cooing his name and rubbing your hand over his broad back gently.

Agent Bailey is hot on your heels, bursting through the door seconds later and on high alert. “I’m fine—” Marcus grunts, twisting away from you as he continues to empty his stomach. “’m fine.” He coughs and retches one more time before he can catch his breath. “Go back— I—I—” he pants out.

“You’re not fine.” In the three seconds you can think straight, you turn around to find Agent Bailey a few feet away. “Can you find us some water?” You ask her, not sure what’s caused Marcus to be so sick but sure that he’s going to feel worse if he can’t rinse his mouth.

It’s obvious that she’s uncomfortable leaving you, but after a second, she’s nodding and stepping away while speaking into her earpiece.

“It’s okay, baby…” Whether or not that’s true is yet to be determined, but Marcus is obviously in distress and you’re just trying to soothe him as best you can. “Was it something you drank? Or—or ate?” Or was it my ex-boyfriend ruining the entire fucking night for literally everyone?

Marcus closes his eyes, swallowing down another wave of bile and shakes his head. “No— I—” he can’t even articulate the rambling thoughts in his head right now. He feels like he’s lost again and yet you are standing in front of him. Are you here to give him the ring back?

“It’s okay, don’t talk until you’re ready.” While you still have one hand moving on his back, you just try to keep calm and hopefully help him calm down in the process. “Agent Bailey’s finding you some water and we can sit out here for as long as you need, okay?”

“Why—” he swallows and closes his eyes. “Why are you out here?” His voice is steadier, gaining control over his emotions again. “Your party is inside.”

"You are out here." The question makes no sense to you and you're probably looking at him like he has three heads, but at least that's an honest reaction. "Fuck the party. You're more important."

“No, I’m not.” Marcus opens his eyes, looking up at the stars and he has to know. “Did you say yes?”

A single beat of confusion bleeds away to absolutely seething disbelief and your hand stops moving on his back even though you don't step away. "How can you even think I—" And all at once it melts away as recognition dawns and the despair on his face becomes clear. Teresa. Teresa is why he's asking. Why he's afraid and why he's so anxious that he's throwing up in the bushes behind the building. "Marcus, no. Of course not. I didn't even let him ask the damn question. He's a self-centered moron who didn't take being broken up with well, and more importantly there is the fact that I love you."

“You were with him for a year.” Marcus reminds you, wanting so badly to believe you and yet it’s still just beyond his grasp.

"Lots of people are in relationships for longer than they should be," you reason, trying to keep his eyes even with the heartbreak that is obvious in them. "I love you, Marcus Pike. You're my soulmate, and I would trade every single second that I spent with Sam in a heartbeat if it meant getting to change all those memories to ones that include you."

“I’m sorry.” The apology is automatic, closing his eyes again and biting his lip. “This is— I shouldn’t have come out here. I shouldn’t have left your party.”

"You needed air, and you needed to clear your head." If you turn things around and put yourself in his shoes? You'd be losing it in the bushes, too. Thankfully, that is when Agent Bailey appears with a sealed bottle of water and she hands it off to you silently. "I'm sorry I ever said I wanted to stay friends with that man. Hopefully the fact that Secret Service escorted him off the grounds will get it through his head." Gently, though, you tip your head at Marcus and offer him a smile. "If not, I'm pretty sure that showing him your promise ring and loudly declaring how much I love you to about sixty people has probably done it."

“You did?” Marcus frowns slightly, confused as to when you managed to do that before rushing after him.

"I did." You nod slightly, one hand seeking his cheek to try to offer some kind of comforting touch. "And then I realized you weren't standing next to Sydney anymore, and I bolted after you."

“I—" he leans into the touch more than he realizes. “I can’t believe you did that.” He huffs softly.

"You said I could shout it from the rooftops." The reminder comes with a soft smile, as you see Marcus finally start to calm down a little and grapple with reality. "So I did."

“You have to be pretty pissed off at me.” He rationalizes. “All that talk and I’m puking my guts out when someone proposes to you on your birthday. In front of all your friends and family.”

"Baby, if one of your exes had shown up to your party and proposed, I assure you I also would have lost my shit. If not my dinner." Holding up the water bottle, you don't step away from him for a second. "We can stay out here as long as you need to, we can go back in, or we can go home. Whatever you need."

“You need to go back in.” Marcus tells you quietly. “You can’t just leave. All of those people are here for you.”

"I'm not leaving you." In the long run or the short, that sentence is the same.

“I’m not saying you leave me.” He looks at you again and reaches for the hand that isn’t on his back. “Let’s go back inside.”

"We'll sit and sip some water, and if your stomach is still turning we don't have to eat anything else." There is a more than minor chance that people will come up to you both for the rest of the night to want to talk about your soulmate status, but that can't be avoided.

He sighs softly. “You know why I was throwing up.” He challenges softly. “I was having a moment of extreme anxiety.”

"That doesn't mean you'll want to eat anything else, or that your stomach isn't still unsettled." Thankfully he wasn't panicked enough to drop your clutch, so he still has it in one hand and you take it from him carefully. "Here. I have mints and Tums stashed in here. Do you want one, the other, or both?"

He frowns slightly, unused to being fussed over unless it was his mother. “Both.” He decides. “I think.”

"We can do that." Mint Tums and Altoids are produced from your purse without further ceremony, and you wait until he steadies himself and chews his mints before you open your arms to offer him a hug.

He stares at you for a moment before he accepts the hug and pulls you close. “Are you okay, hummingbird?”

"I'm pissed at that idiot for upsetting you, but I'm okay." If he had said you should just go home, you would have gone with him in a heartbeat. Going back into that party sounds daunting at the very least. "What a fucking idiot. I'm just grateful I managed to catch you before you got too far."

“I just needed some air.” Marcus doesn’t know if he would have left, he hadn’t really been thinking— just reacting.

"If you get overwhelmed or anxious again, do you promise to tell me?" He takes your hand and a step or two toward the door at your side, but that doesn't mean he's totally ready to go in.

“I just—” he knows he owes you an explanation. “It felt like history was repeating itself. This time I was getting a front row seat.” He frowns slightly and looks down at the ring on your finger. “And the only thing that I could think of was how much worse it was because it was my soulmate.”

"You're absolutely entitled to have an anxious reaction to what just happened." With his hand in yours, you give it a squeeze and soothe your other hand over his arm. "Is there something I can do to reassure you? Or is this something that's just going to take time to work through?"

“It was just a flash in the pan thing.” Marcus assures you. “But I’ll talk to my therapist about it. So it doesn’t work into something between us.”

"Okay." He's working on himself, and honestly that might be one of the sexiest things about him. For now, though, you squeeze his hand again and head back into the building. "But if there is something I can do, or if I do something that I don't realize makes you anxious, will you tell me? I never want to make our time together stressful or triggering."

“I promise I will let you know.” He is thankful you understand why he freaked out, instead of just assuming he didn’t trust you. “I’m sorry that your birthday was…interrupted.”

"That is absolutely not your fault." It isn't. At all. And you would hate for him to feel that any of the blame is on his shoulders when it lies squarely with Sam. "Just...people are going to have questions. I did flash the ring, so we're going to have a lot of curiosity."

“I’m assuming this wasn’t the way you wanted to announce your soulmate status?” He asks wryly. “Why did Sam think he could win you over by proposing?”

"I think he thought that if he went for the grand gesture, I would just crumble." You sigh as you walk together, climbing the stairs slowly. "If not for you, I might have. I might have settled, instead of realizing that real love is something much more spectacular. Something worth holding out for."

“I’m glad you didn’t settle.” Marcus admits, looking over at you. “That wouldn’t be fair to you. Forget about me, it wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” At the top of the stairs you kiss his cheek and hold his hand a little tighter. “Now that I’ve met you, I could never forget about you.”

It’s a little surreal to be a priority, making Marcus flush a little more than he probably would, given that he had just doubted you and been proven spectacularly wrong. He’ll definitely call his therapist on Monday.

“Are you ready?” The doors are right in front of you, but you still check in with him first. “If you’re not, it’s okay. I’ll say good night and we’ll go home. Not questions asked.”

“No, I’m not going to ruin the rest of your night.” He shakes his head. “Let’s get a fresh drink.”

Marcus's stubbornness isn't something you want to start an argument about, but after tonight you're definitely going to take tomorrow very easy. "It's not the night any of us had planned, that's for damn sure."

“I would hope not.” He snorts and his hand squeezes yours again, now feeling guilty about leaving you while you dealt with Sam. “I’m sorry for not being there for you.”

"You don't need to be, but I appreciate that. He took all of us off guard." With a confirming nod from Marcus, you push the door to the event hall open and come face to face with a room full of guests who are all a flutter. Your mother still has the microphone in her hand but it seems to be off, and she makes her way toward you immediately with a deep frown etched in her features.

“Birdie.” She is almost sighing in relief when she spots you again. “You ran off, almost losing your detail.” She scolds quietly before she softens. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

"I needed some air." The gentle lie covers the fact that you actually went running after Marcus, but no one can blame you for having a big reaction to what happened. "That was insane."

The president gives a very unpresidential snort. “You think?” She huffs. “I cannot believe that man thought proposing after you broke up was a good idea. I mean, I know he had mentioned something when you were still together, but-“ Realizing who she is saying this in front of, she snaps her jaw closed and sends Marcus a polite smile. “Thank you for being with her.”

"It's not exactly how I was going to tell you about the promise ring," you admit, leaning in to Marcus's side when he offers your mother an agreeing nod. As though to say 'of course' without letting her know that it was actually you who was there for him.

“You seem overjoyed to wear it.” She observes, smiling slightly at the way you are leaning into the man beside you. Drawing comfort and offering it at the same time.

"I am." Without hesitation, and with great pride, in fact. "And I apologize in advance, but I'm going to miss a family dinner in a few weeks. Marcus is bringing me to Texas to meet his family."

“Really?” Her eyes widen slightly and shift over to Marcus as she reappraises him through a new lens. This has just change from potential to reality. “Well.” She smiles. “I am sure that they will love you.”

“We’ll make sure all the plans are approved by Agent Bailey, but…” Glancing up at Marcus beside you, your stomach flips and your hearts pounds. As off kilter as tonight has gone, he’s still standing here beside you. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t take your detail out to Texas.” Your mother considers, looking at Marcus to see what he thinks. “After all, you will be traveling with a federal agent.” She taps the microphone. “Would be bring your weapon and credential when you fly?” She asks him. Marcus nods immediately. “I always bring them.” He explains. “In case I get called out for a case. I don’t have to fly back to D.C.”

“We’ll be near the Dallas field office anyway,” you offer, having cruised around Marcus’s hometown on Google maps with him over a phone call when he was in London and noting the office as you went.

Your mother glances over at Agent Bailey and within seconds, the agent is joining the three of you. “What do you think, Agent Bailey?” She asks, wanting her professional opinion before she makes her decision.

“I would feel more comfortable if it was me, Ma’am.” Agent Bailey shifts in place, as if apologizing to you with her body language. “I’ll station at the field office and be on call. It’s a middle ground, if you will.”

“Birdie?” Your mother glances over at you to see what you think. “How does that sound?”

“That’s fine with me as long as long as it’s okay with Marcus.” You nod, appreciating your agent’s candor. “I trust Agent Bailey more than some strangers.”

“Whatever is needed for Birdie’s safety.” Marcus agrees. “Although, there’s plenty of room for you at the compound.” He tells Agent Bailey. “There’s no need for you to stay in Dallas. Please. Come stay with us.”

“We’ll coordinate with the Dallas office and make arrangements official.” Agent Bailey assures your small group. “Now…I believe there is a cake to be cut, ma’am?”

“Oh shit.” Marcus’s eyes widen when he realizes that you haven’t even had your cake. “Yeah, sweetheart, you need to have your birthday cake.”

“We got a little distracted from the point of the night, I think.” Still placing the blame for that squarely on one person’s shoulders, you offer your mother a smile anyway. “What do you say we get this party back on track?”

“Are you sure?” She glances back and forth between you and Marcus. “There will be a lot of questions.”

“I know there will be.” And you swallow, wondering if it will overwhelm Marcus and make him second guess choosing you. “But I would rather get ahead of the rumor mill.”

“Then perhaps you should announce your soulmate status.” She offers quietly. “People heard you talk about finding happiness, but they don’t know why you’ve moved on so quickly.”

“It shouldn’t matter,” you remind her, just as quietly but feeling a bit childish. That’s what freedom of affection is about. Your choice. “But I will anyway. Because I’m proud of him.”

“What you decide to do is up to you.” She agrees. “I should have had security stop Congressman Chase at the door.”

“Hindsight, Mom.” The best you can do is shrug. “I shouldn’t have said I wanted to stay friends. It’s done now.”

“Yes…” she huffs slightly, knowing that her opinion of the congressman just dropped considerably after his display tonight.

“Why don’t you give me that,” you motion to the microphone in her hand. “And I’ll talk…and you get the cake?”

“That is your decision, Birdie.” She hands you the microphone and Marcus frowns. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to do anything.”

“I have to say something.” Taking the microphone from her, you offer Marcus a lopsided smile before you click on the power button. “Are you ready for this?”

“Whenever you are.” It’s still a theory in his mind, not tangible. You don’t have to declare this—him— it’s enough that you want to be with him.

“I love you.” It’s just a soft hum, but you squeeze his hand before you click the microphone on and raise it to your mouth. “I hope everyone enjoyed the floor show,” you joke, bringing people’s attention back to the front of the room.

Marcus would have let go of your hand, to give you the spotlight alone, but you don’t let go. Making him give a soft smile as everyone looks at you and consequentially, him.

"I didn't think it was going to be necessary to make an announcement out of this, but clearly the fact didn't get through some people's heads." Still trying for the joke, you take a look around the room. Family, friends, co-workers and family friends all surround you with attentive expressions. "It's been a little over a month now, since I met Marcus Pike." Squeezing his hand gently, you smile at the man beside you and exhale nervously. Stage fright be damned. He is more important than nerves. "And it gave me a lot to think about. How happy I was with the current state of my life and my relationship, or how I imaged my future. It became fairly clear to me that I didn't want to envision any future for myself that didn't have Marcus playing a starring role. Which makes sense..." Breathe. You can do it. Just breathe. "Considering he's my soulmate."

Marcus gives a small wave and a somewhat lopsided grin that he is completely unaware of how charming it is. Listening to the murmurs and gasps of surprise as he knows that he’s under increased scrutiny.

"I know I've always been outspoken about freedom of affection." There are more murmurs – agreement from your loved ones. "And this is what I'm choosing. I am choosing to love my soulmate, and to start building a future with him. Apparently that was a difficult reality for my ex-boyfriend to swallow, but I hope you'll all join me in having a slice of birthday cake and celebrating love and happiness until they kick us out of this place."

Marcus could not have said it better himself, so he doesn’t speak. He just lifts your joined hands and kisses the back of yours gently.

Clicking off the microphone again, you hand it off to one of the uniformed wait staff and turn around to find a rolling table with a sizeable two-tier cake on it. Your father is there with a smile on his face and the knife ready for you to pick up. One ceremonial cut into the cake gets a cheer from the crowd and then it's Alex's voice that starts everyone singing Happy Birthday just as loudly as possible.

Marcus is happy that the celebration has turned back towards you and not the proposal. Singing along with the chorus of the song, he grins when you duck your head slightly in embarrassment.

"Thank god that's over," you huff with a laugh, as the waiter rolls the cake away to slice it properly and people start to mill about again instead of just staring at you. Or worse, singing at you. There's a dab of frosting on your finger and you suck it into your mouth with curiosity before perking up immediately. "Mm, cream cheese frosting!"

“Cream cheese frosting is your favorite?” He asks curiously, smiling at your obvious delight.

"Cake is my favorite." The grin on your face doesn't even have a hint of irony to it. "But if you made me choose? Red velvet with cream cheese frosting is pretty much the top of the list."

“As it should be.” Marcus snorts and shoots you a grin. “But, have you ever had a chilled, key lime cake with cream cheese frosting on a hot Texas day?”

"Please tell me that's something your family does," you groan happily. "Because that sounds amazing."

“My aunt makes one every time I come home.” He promises. “I’ve already gotten the text from her asking if I would want her to make one. I always say yes, but she still asks.”

"Your aunt is now at the very top of my favorite people list." The grin on your face comes with burning cheeks, and you lean into Marcus's side with a sigh. "After you, of course."

“Until you taste my mom’s strawberry daiquiri pie.” He teases, leaning in and kissing your nose.

"Are we going to eat our way through this visit? Because I am completely ready for that." The small reprieve you've been given from the curiosity of your friends and family has apparently ended, and the first waiter with a tray of plates of cake comes out and Malachi saunters up to grab a slice right after you.

“You’ll work it off.” He promises with a grin at the concierge as he smirks with the cake in his hand. “Malachi, how are you this evening?” He asks with a slight chuckle. “A little drama filled, right?”

“More than a little.” Malachi deftly balances a small dessert plan with a glass of champagne in one hand, but his other reaches out to Marcus. “I guess we’ll be seeing you more around the inn?”

Marcus shakes the man’s hand, sensing that despite his aloof mannerisms, he cares deeply about you and the inn. “I hope that’s alright?”

"If she's happy, I'm happy." The younger man chuckles fondly. "Everybody wants their boss in a good mood, right?"

“Absolutely.” Marcus agrees with a grin. “I will try to stay out of your way and keep her in a good mood, what do you say?”

"Sounds like a very good plan." Malachi's eyes spell mischief, just like always, but he cares about you far too much to pretend he isn't genuinely over the moon for you to have finally found the right person to be with.

You huff playfully and Marcus turns his grin towards you. “I have to promise not to distract you from work too much.” He reminds you. “You have an inn to run.”

"Mal says he's happy now," you tease." But he's going to have to run the place for me while we're in Texas. That'll teach him."

“A lover’s getaway already?” His brow shoots up and his lips curl in the same direction. “And here I was thinking that you were taking this slow.”

"Family visit." Though it's technically a correction, it's only a small one. If anything, meeting your soulmate's family is even more important than just a little getaway. "We'll go over everything and I know you'll be just fine. But...yes. A getaway."

“Good.” Malachi sniffs. “You deserve to go somewhere other than Maryland.”

There are other people milling around, wanting to give their best wishes or simply curious to get a closer look at Marcus, and Malachi slips back off into the crowd with a wink and a smile. If this is the rest of the party, you reflect with a glance up at Marcus as you fork up a first bite of cake, that won't be so bad at all.

There are so many people who care about you. Some are just curious and he’s sure that there will be gossip reported on the night, but most everyone who comes up to you genuinely cares. He smiles and shakes hands. Listening to how they know you and saves the information for the next time he sees them. Never leaving your side until he needs to refresh your drink.

By the time the end of the night arrives, you're so grateful to slip away. The fact that you and Marcus have planned a lazy day for tomorrow is deeply necessary. Switching to nonalcoholic drinks after the toast with your cake means neither of you is drunk but you're definitely still tangled around each other after loading the trunk of Marcus's car with various boxes and bags (even though you insisted on no gifts). Good nights are said and Agent Bailey climbs into her car to follow you back to the inn as you and Marcus sigh at finally being alone again in his car.

“I don’t know if that’s the best possible outcome for your birthday, or the worst.” Marcus chuckles, reaching for your hand once he buckled his seatbelt. “Opinions, comments, concerns?”

"Aside from the bit in the middle that I would prefer to never think about again?" You glance up at him beside you and offer him a smile. "Everything else was perfect."

“He was desperate.” Marcus squeezes your hand. “I know why. You are amazing and he’s lost you.” He wonders what he would have done if you had chosen him, if it had been him in Sam’s shoes. He’s let everyone else go, but it’s different now. You are his soulmate.

“Nobody ever treated me like I was ‘amazing’ ,” you tell him honestly, sitting back in your seat when he starts his car up. “Or maybe that’s part of what being a soulmate is. A shared definition of how to treat someone well.”

He doesn’t like the idea that no one has treated you like you deserve, frowning slightly. “Well, the moment I don’t, you just correct me.”

“Same goes for you, you know.” Your hand works its way into his over the gear shift to stay tangled in him even while he drives.

“I don’t think you will be a problem, sweetheart.” He smiles as he glances over at you and then back at the road to the rearview mirror. “Agent Bailey staying again? Or is someone else taking over?”

"Agent Sisson should be at the inn when we get there." His grace and understanding in regards to your security detail is deeply appreciated. You really can't say how much. "It was nice of you to offer for her to stay on the compound when we go see your parents."

“There’s always people coming and going, family and friends. It will make her feel better and maybe she will enjoy herself too.” Marcus rationalizes. “There’s plenty of room. No need for a boring hotel.”

"It will be a nice change," you agree. The darkened streets of Washington DC are lit to blazing with artificial light but it's still fairly quiet for a Saturday night. "I feel bad that there aren't more places for her to hang out at my apartment."

“I would offer my apartment, the second bedroom is my office and across the entire living room from my bedroom.” Marcus chuckles.

"We'll have to split the difference sometimes. Use both places." Tilting your head, you flash him a cheeky grin as he drives. "Until we start building, of course."

“Honestly, whatever is easier for you.” Marcus isn’t about to sleep without you if he can manage it. “I do not mind your apartment at all.”

"We'll see what works best for us. I'm sure there will be days when it will be easier for you to be closer to the office or days when I need to be close to the inn just in case." His flexibility is such a boon, and you squeeze his hand gently. "As long as I get to sleep next to you, we'll make it work."

“That was my thoughts exactly.” Marcus chuckles quietly, amazed at how the two of you just fit together. He had always heard of it, been envious of it on a subconscious level, but now he’s basking in this newfound joy.

"I hope you already told your parents you're bringing me," you laugh softly. "Because I told a lot of people tonight."

“I’m sure there will be something about in a gossip column tomorrow.” He has accepted that, has no issue with it as long as he gets to have you. It’s a requirement of it, to be public. He’s got nothing to hide anyway. He’s used to it from his own childhood. “I’ve told them.” He promises.

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me what your Dad does.” It’s an open question but a good one, especially where it keeps your mind from idling on the fact that at this time last night, Marcus was fingering you in your bathtub and promising to do more tonight.

His brow shoots up and he almost laughs, but you are asking the question seriously. “Oh, he’s retired now.” Marcus promises, grinning slightly.

“Oh?” That’s surprising, though you’re not sure why. Maybe just because you hadn’t been expecting it. “Is he much older than your mother? Or…I don’t know…military? They retire early sometimes, don’t they?”

He does chuckle now and he stops at the red light. “Birdie, my dad is Matthew Pike.” He wonders if you might not have heard of him during his active years in the MLB. “Nicknamed Stryker for the number of strikeouts he would average throwing a game.”

The silence in the car is deafening for the few seconds it takes your mind to catch up with what he’s saying and for your jaw to come up off the floor, but when you can finally think again the first thing out of your mouth is: “No fucking way!”

Marcus belly laughs this time, squeezing your hand and glancing over at you before the light changes and he starts to drive again. “Fucking way.” He promises.

“Wait…” Rolling back through all of the assorted baseball facts in your mind, you somehow manage to come up with just a few Matthew Pike tidbits and get excited all over again. “So you’re not originally from Texas then!” You exclaim, fully shifting into fan girl mode. “He was playing for the Cardinals when you were born, wasn’t he?”

“Cardinals and then he was with Montreal, the Yankees, then Texas.” Marcus nods, grinning at the sheer happiness in your voice.

“I always thought it would have been so cool to live all over like that when I was a kid.” At the time it had never occurred to you that things like having Sydney come with you would have been impossible, it just sounded neat. “That’s the absolute coolest bomb you ever could have dropped on me and I’m so jealous.”

Marcus laughs. “Well, after dad retired, he bought the land out in Texas – no, he already started buying it during his time with Texas – and we made it the ‘Pike compound’.” He snorts. “Kind of like the Kennedy Compound, but not on Cape Cod.”

“There is no room for a family compound in Philly.” The very idea of it makes you laugh, and you grin at him. “Well now I extra can’t wait to meet your parents.”

“Oh….its tradition, by the way.” Marcus tosses you a smirk. “We play at least one game of baseball when we are home.”

“No fucking way.” This time there is awe in your voice and your eyes are wide with giddy excitement. “You have the absolute coolest family, you know that, right?”

“You say that now.” He snorts, rolling his eyes. “You’ve never heard the trash talking the Pike family doles out when playing sports.”

“Don’t care,” you tell him with confidence. “It’s still awesome. Your family is awesome.”

“I think so.” He agrees, happy that his family tradition doesn’t seem weird or lame to you. It had started as a way for the cousins and brothers and sisters to play baseball with the famous MLB star and turned into a tradition that everyone could enjoy, even if they were watching from the seats.

“It’s going to be a blast.” The absolute confidence in your voice won’t hear of anything different. Texas is going to be a fantastic trip.

“They are going to love you.” He promises with a small laugh. “Expect a million questions though.”

“I’m fine with that,” you promise him steadily. “As long as your dad doesn’t mind me fangirling just a tiny bit.”

He smirks. “There’s been a change in his retirement, by the way.” He tells you. “He’s been signed to be the pitching coach for the Rangers. So you can pick his brain.”

“Ok, so fangirling a lot.” Both of you laugh, enjoying the easiness and eagerness of it.

“At least you know you won’t be roped into awkward conversations. You just mention something about baseball and it will become a family topic quick.” Marcus warns.

“Got it.” You hum. He takes the exit for Alexandria and you look over at his profile. “Speaking of which? You’re now invited to family dinners.”

“I am?” Marcus lifts a brow in surprise. “When did that happen?”

“Right before we left the party.” A bit of your lip comes with hoping he doesn’t feel intimidated by where those dinners are. “Mom said there’s no pressure, but you’re welcome.”

“I would be honored to attended….when I can.” Even though it’s an extreme honor, he still had commitments to his job that sometimes cannot be shifted. “I will promise that I’ll come to as many as I can.”

“Work always comes first.” Everyone in your family can understand and agree to that, which is something that helps you breathe more deeply. “David has a standing invitation, too. But his boss has him working Friday nights right now.”

“That’s not fun.” Marcus sends you a small smile. “I better brush up on my small talk.”

“Brush up on American history.” That’s your best advice, but you’re ecstatic he even wants to think about it. “The more obscure the better. When we run out of things to talk about, Mom starts quizzing us on the weird stuff.”

“Play online Jeopardy trivia.” Marcus snorts. “Got it.”

“You’ll knock ‘em dead, baby,” you hum with a laugh.

“You laugh, but mom love Jeopardy.” He huffs playfully. “She wanted to go on the celebrity edition when dad was invited. She was pissed that he turned it down.”

“Our mothers will have at least one thing to bond over, then.” The idea is sweet, actually, and you grin. “If we ever lose them, we’ll find them yelling answers at Jeopardy together.”

“I will be very intrigued to find out how they like each other.” Marcus admits as he turns into the driveway for the inn. “I think we will be in trouble.”

“Maybe.” It makes you smile, though, and you breathe a sigh of relief to be home again. “But I think it will be a good kind of trouble.”

The plans for the super special birthday sex had been unanimously voted against once you were back at the inn. Marcus wouldn’t have said a word, but you were the one to broach the subject and admitted that you just wanted to fall asleep in his arms, emotionally drained from the tumultuous events of the evening. He feels guilty, he really does, but he had also been relieved, although stirring now with you still asleep is a moment he can treasure.

Yesterday you had been the one to watch him fondly, tracing the sunlight on his features and letting you savor the sight of him beside you. The morning after your birthday is the opposite. Marcus watches you dream as the sun rises higher overhead. If you knew, you might be slightly embarrassed about the spot of drool on your pillow, but as it is you’re having dreams far too wonderful to care.

You sleep with your mouth open and it’s cute. Marcus smiles as he brushes his fingers over your skin gently, listening to soft sigh that comes from you as you curl further into him.

In your dreams, he’s already curled around you. Which probably accounts for the soft moan you breathe deep inside your sleep.

“Sweetheart?” Marcus nuzzles his nose against your cheek and smiles when your brow furrows gently.

The sound of his voice in the waking world pulls you out of it, and even though you hum softly in protest of waking up, you shift to snuggle closer to him in bed.

He hums softly, running his hand up and down your back. “You can still sleep, I just want to know if I can touch you.”

“Mmmmm.” Stretching like a contented kitten, you manage to crack one eye open and smile at him sleepily. “I wanna be awake for that, though.”

“You could always wake up to it.” He chuckles and leans in to steal a kiss.

The warm blanket of his affection is far more powerful than the comforter covering both of you, and you’re simultaneously annoyed that he’ll have to strip you out of your nightgown and lazily eager to see if he just doesn’t bother. Moaning softly against his lips, you shift ever closer. “I’m yours.”

You are his. His heart stutters and he hums against your lips. Moving the kiss down your jaw, he shuffles his hips down to start sliding down under the sheets.

There’s a surreal quality to it, like you’re still dreaming even when you know you aren’t. But the morning glow settling over everything is so much better than your dreams had been. It’s like you’re floating on a cloud, and the only thing anchoring you to the ground or any kind of reality is just Marcus.

Your nightgown is between you, but he doesn’t view it as hinderance. Too busy nuzzling you through it as he kisses down your chest and pulls down the collar of the gown over one breast.

The bowing arch of your back into his touch is so natural that you barely notice that you’re chasing his mouth rather than his hands. It’s just your body singing insistently for more when he’s barely getting started.

You respond so easily to him, your warm skin heating up even more as he mouths and kisses the skin around your breast until he finally latches on to your nipple lazily, grabbing against your sweet smelling skin. Your breathy sigh is pitched up, and the leisurely curl of your arms around his shoulders holds him in close to you to encourage him to explore any and all parts of you. Sensitive nipples have always been a boon as far as arousal goes, but Marcus’s magic tongue is nothing to discount.

Listening to your sweet sighs is something he can do forever. Licking and sucking gently, combined with the a sometimes sharp nip of his teeth, builds a tension that vibrates beneath the surface of your body.

Your fingers comb through his hair as you drift on a cloud that keeps you somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Every atom in your body is fully aware and aroused but the sweet dream of this morning makes it still feel like a dream. Holding him close to your chest as he explores to his heart’s content has you squeezing your thighs together already, the buzzing arousal feeling thick and sticky at the apex of your thighs.

"So sweet, perfect." Marcus praises softly between suckles. His hands sliding under your gown to stroke your hip. "You taste perfect, my love."

The happy buzz vibrating right under your skin makes you giggle at that as you squirm underneath him. “And you haven’t even tasted the best part yet.”

“Hmmmm, I’m going to get there.” Marcus promises. “This isn’t a race. I could spend alllll day discovering your body with my tongue and hands before I even use my cock.”

A moan of agreement parts your lips and you end up grinning as he mouths at your skin, nipping and licking everywhere he pleases. “The flea market will still be there next weekend.”

“Maybe we should get out of bed then.” He pauses, head under the sheet and waits for you to squirm. “Right? We can’t miss the flea market.”

“Are you serious?” He’s probably not, but you still lift the sheet to look him in the eyes. If he actually wants to stop, then of course you will. But you have a feel he’s just being a tease again.

He smirks, and looks up at you innocently while sticking his tongue out to trace around your areola. "What do you think?" He hums.

“I’m not going to pressuring you into anything,” you qualify, although he basically has you whining. “But I am gonna have to take care of myself in the shower if you want to stop.”

"That would be a horrible precedent to set in our first weekend together." Marcus flicks his tongue over your aching nipple and then hums when you gasp out as his teeth scrap over it. "Don't you think? We've already postponed this too many times."

It’s almost too much to bear, the way he teases with words and touches and kisses all at once, but you manage to huff at him. “If I drown you when you get down there, it’s only because I’ve been thinking about this every waking second for weeks.”

“Worth it.” He promises with a grin. “It had been so hard not to jerk off thinking about you while I was in London. Especially knowing you were all soft, wet and sweet smelling from your baths with me.”

“Do you know how many times I almost got myself off in those damn baths?” Your soft groan is almost agonized. “I should have. Just moaned into the phone and let you know how badly I want you.”

“Fuck.” His cock twitches against the bed, trapped there as he continues to work his way down. “I wouldn’t have minded.” He admits. “Listening to your orgasm and imagining how you look.” He bites his lip. “You look gorgeous.”

“Would’ve been worth it.” He kisses further down your torso and you hum in approval. “Can’t wait to see how wrecked you look when you cum in me.”

“I had a screening while I was in London.” Marcus admits quietly. “After Vanessa broke up with me. I always do after a relationship ends. Just in case.”

“I do too.” A little bit of a sheepish laugh follows. “Turns out it’s really easy to get good healthcare when your Mom is President.”

Marcus chuckles against your belly button before kissing it. “I bet.” He hums. “No one needs a leaked doctor office visit where the First Princess has an STI.”

“I only like that nickname because it came from the night with you,” you confess, fingers running through his short fair fondly. “I hope you know that.”

“So how about I just call you Princess?” Marcus’s voice drops about two octaves and he smirks at you wickedly.

“As long as I’m your princess.” Although, your sigh immediately gives away what that tone in his voice fires to you.

“Is there any other kind of Princess you would be?” He sends you a wink as he trails his tongue over your hip.

“Not anymore.” Your head falls back on your pillow in relief at that fact, and you fling off the sheet to get to watch him. “Not now that I have you.”

Pleasure races down his spine and he shuffles slightly lower. “I am yours.”

“Glad we—” The moan that cuts off your thought when you feel Marcus’s breath at the apex of your open thighs is deep and curls up from your toes. “Agree.”

He chuckles and doesn’t hesitate to use his fingers to spread your lips apart and he coos as he gets the first good look at your weeping sex. “So pretty.” He praises before he decides the best way to taste you is to slowly drag his tongue along your soaked slit.

“Oh fuck.” Even when you were expecting it, the delicate touch has your eyelids fluttering shut and your chest heaving. Your curse sounds like the most beautiful praise to his ears, moaning at that and the silky, tangy taste of your cunt. Letting his tongue slowly flick along your folds and go where the natural curves of your lips take him. “Never going out again,” you vow, letting a breathy whine vibrate on your tongue.

Marcus chuckles into your folds, keeping pressure on the most sensitive parts of you as he explores. He’s meticulous. Once he’s set himself to the task of learning you, absolutely nothing can or will possibly drag him away. The more you squirm, the firmer his hold becomes. But the more you pant and moan and coo his name into the morning light? Marcus is eager.

The sheet being pulled away allows him to watch you. Enjoying the way you writhe and squirm under his touch. Humming against your skin as you whimper his name prettily.

There's no possible explanation beyond Marcus having a three-foot-long tongue, because the way he feels like he's everywhere at once is the most beautiful kind of overwhelming. There's a solid chance he's just been licking into you and sucking at your clit for hours from how boneless you are, but the first tightening of the knotted arousal at the bottom of your spine heralding the first orgasm of the day reminds you just how quickly he's actually gotten here. You only feel like you've been on this cloud of ecstasy for forever.

Marcus feels your thighs starts to tense around his head. Tightening his grip of your hips as he continues to overwhelm you gently.

“Baby—” Breathless gasps begin to take over as your whole body seems to tighten in response to the mounting pleasure. “I’m so—fuck, I’m so close—”

He doesn’t dare pull away, not wanting to give you a seconds break from the flick of his tongue. Groaning into you and coaxing you to cum for him.

Marcus’s name is a chant on your lips as you fall apart, tipping off the peak of the mountain of pleasure and swan diving down into the swimming ecstasy that Marcus is drawing out of you with lips and teeth and hands.

Your breathless cry of his name is followed by the most gorgeous sight he’s ever seen. Your back arches, eyes closed, one hand tangled into his hair and the other gripping the sheets. It’s beautiful and erotic, a pure work of live art that is priceless to him.

For a few seconds after it’s like you’ve forgotten how to breathe, and then you sink back into the mattress with a sigh. You still have one hand in his hair and it rubs gently, begging him to climb up your body so you can kiss him.

It takes a few minutes, Marcus liking to be thorough when he is working a woman down from her high. Kissing the swollen skin gently before his mouth starts a slow journey back up to yours. By the time he gets up to your lips you’re practically whining for that kiss, happily letting him sink down on top of you when he gets there. His body covers yours perfect, fitting into every grove like he was made for you – because he was. His lips molding to yours in a soft yet sensuous kiss that consumes both of you in the growing morning light.

The valley between your thighs is the perfect place for him to rest, and you cradle him against your body as easily as if you were welcoming him home. What they say about intimacy between soulmates seems to be abundantly clear to you in this moment — it really is the deepest feeling of connection you’ve ever had.

Marcus revels in the feel, sliding his tongue against yours and he pushes his arms under yours to hold you close. It’s almost lazy, the way you sink against each other, but Marcus’s cock trapped between your bodies isn’t going to let either of you get distracted from the wonderful the track that you’re on.

His knuckles brush your cheek and when he finally pulls away, he’s grinning at you. “Good morning.”

"Cheeky," you hum at him, although you're grinning too. "Making me cum that hard and then acting all cute and innocent."

“That was hard?” He tilts his head and smirks slightly, teasing you. “I thought that was a good place to start.”

"Marcus Reid Pike." Eyeing him with a skeptical huff, you ruffle his hair again and end up laughing. "I'm all for that. Just give me a second to recover."

He laughs, coming back down to smother you in affectionate kisses to hear you squeal. “No recovery time!” He commands playfully.

"Such a demanding lover!" You faux-scold, laughing and clinging to him as you squeal and squirm in his arms. Marcus laughs like an evil villain and rocks his hips, grinding his cock against your mound.

"Fuck." It earns him a whimper from your lips, your whole body lighting up all over again at the contact.The playfulness ebbs away and is replaced by a moment of silent desire passing through both of you. Leaning in again, his lips press against yours once more. When you shift this time, your feet are flat on the bed and your knees end up bracketing his hips, encouraging him closer and letting him rest in the cradle of your thighs.

“Ready for more?” He hums, ducking his head to kiss your pulse. “I thought my little Hummingbird needed to recover?”

"I have reconsidered," you inform him, with the air of someone making a very serious and important political decision. "And instead insist on more."

“Ahhhh.” He pops his head up and makes a very loft expression appear on his own face as his hips tilt back and the head of his cock catches on your slick entrance. “A wise choice.” He rasps out, pushing forward to start breaking you open. “Princess.”

Your own noise is best described as a whine, somewhere in between a sharp gasp and a plaintive begging for as much as he's willing to give you. Your legs find their way up higher on his hips to invite him to bury himself in your heat, and even though you were just kissing him seconds ago, you swear he's managed to find a way to loom over you with the perfect expression of desire on his face.

You are exquisite, perfect. Marcus can’t even find enough words to describe how the moment he slides into you wraps around his heart and imprints into his soul. The same soul that is fused with yours. He’s always heard that you feel so much deeper with your soulmate and he’s happy to learn that it’s true.

For a few long seconds, the two of you are content to adjust to each other. No sharp, awkward movements. No wiggling or shifting. The angle is already perfect and Marcus is fully seated inside your body without a single moment of hesitation or difficulty. There’s just a feeling of coming home that you’re basking in until he starts to move.

Starting slow is the only way to do this. Not because he’s afraid of hurting you, but because he doesn’t want to leave you. Feeling like he just stay buried inside your honeyed walls and be perfectly content. The first time he draws his hips back, a low groan falls from his lips. Your real name following that.

There are octaves of difference in your responses. Where Marcus’s groan comes from somewhere deep in his soul, your high whine of pleasure is its own ethereal sound. Once those sounds break free, it seems like a release cord has been pulled — and every pleasurable sound, pure of encouragement, and moan of praise is sure to come tumbling out after it.

It’s never been like this. Never reached into his body and tugged at his soul like this. He should feel guilty but he can’t. Not when every slow thrust is met with an eagerness that shows your own enthusiasm.

Each thrust from Marcus comes with a lift or a roll of your hips, meeting him at the center of the movement to create an exquisite rhythm between the two of you. It's the ebb and flow of the ocean between your bodies as the pace increases and the warmth of the sun heats your skin even further.

It’s beautiful, but he can tell that it’s not enough. Your fingernails dig into his skin, only to release a second later as if you are afraid of marking him. Your body asking for more than the gentle lovemaking. “Let me-“ Marcus kisses you again. “Do you want to try a different position?”

With his cock buried to the hilt inside you like it is, he could probably suggest murder and you'd agree with breathless enthusiasm. "Anything," you nod emphatically and soothe the light fingernail marks you accidentally left on his shoulder.

“Let me know if you don’t like something, Princess.” Marcus murmurs seriously. “This is about both of us.”

"I promise." Right now all you care about is that he doesn't leave the heat of your little cocoon for too long, but you're willing to try just about anything once.

Marcus pulls back and he tries to shift without pulling out of you. Almost succeeding, but smirking slightly when you whimper as his cock falls out. Pushing his legs under your hips, he lifts your left leg onto his shoulder and shimmy’s closer.

There's no thrusting in this position, but as Marcus slides inside you again he leans back the intensity of just grinding against each other makes you moan out and reach to grip Marcus's ankle by your head. He loves how deep he feels, how your walls simply flutter around him. “So good baby.” Marcus groans. “How does it feel?”

"So good baby." Echoing him with a whimper, the hand of yours that isn't clinging to him is somewhere between fisting the sheets and exploring your own body while his hips grind into yours. "You like watching me writhe, gorgeous?"

“Yes.” The word falls like a prayer from his lips, breathless as he watches you. His heart galloping like he’s running a marathon and he can only hope that it’s half as good for you.

"You wanna see me touch myself?" The angle is perfect for it. For him to watch you on your back as he rolls his hips against yours and makes both of you shudder in response. Your free hand squeezes mercilessly at one of your tits, pawing it and twisting the nipple with enough force to make you moan sharply.

“Show me what you like.” Marcus growls out the order, his cock pulsing violently inside your walls as his body responds to the idea.

Anchoring yourself to him was like clinging to life when he first slid inside you in this position, but now you can take your hand away and put it to much better use rubbing decisive, tight circles around your clit to give Marcus a gorgeous show of you indulging in your own body at the same time he fucks you.

His eyes keep roaming. Taking in your hand squeezing and manipulating your breast, the tight circles you rub around your clit. All finding it to be the sexiest thing he’s ever seen as his cock grinds into you. The end of the shaft the only part of it he can see.

Watching Marcus practically salivate over the sight of you is worth not being able to kiss him in this position. Every time he lifts his hips his cock scrubs against your g-spot and your back arches just a little bit more, rocketing you straight toward the second orgasm of the morning.

“That how you like it baby?” Marcus groans when you clench down around him, providing the perfect pressure. “What else do you like? Tell me. Want to give it to you.”

“Want you to — oh fuck — fucking wreck me.” What started out as beautiful, slow, sensual lovemaking has quickly picked up speed and intensity. Like something inside the two of you just released out of nowhere. “Claim me.”

“Fuck” Marcus growls from the very pit of his stomach and he manages to push to his knees by folding them under and looming over you. “You want it rough?”

Simply knowing the man is broad doesn’t do justice to the way he looms over you now. There is power in his strength and yet a deep confidence that he would never, never hurt you. You know Marcus can be gentle and sensual — but you also want to see what it’s like when he’s rough. “Absolutely.”

Your leg is up on his shoulder so when he lunges forward, it’s pressed back to your body. Trapped between the two of you and pinning your hand so you can’t move it from your clit. His hand slaps the side of your thigh sharply and he replaces the hand on your tit with his own, the next thrust more of a sharp snap of his hips.

Permission seems to be all he needed, having no issue taking charge or throwing some power into his thrusts. It pushes you up the bed and has you moaning out all over again. If you had neighbors, they would definitely be complaining. Instead, you just make a mental note to get an extra treat for your agents in apology for how much of this they’re going to start hearing.

“Tell me what else you want.” He demands through gritted teeth and he slides one hand up to rest on the hollow of your throat. He doesn’t squeeze. “This?”

The whimper he earns from you with that suggestion is almost pitiable, but having one of your favorite things to watch in porn that you've never tried before just offered to you – it makes you impossibly wetter and that impending orgasm come even closer. "I – fuck – please?" You beg, knowing you sound pitiful but not caring in the least.

“Hold onto my hand Princess.” Marcus orders roughly. “Squeeze twice quickly if you need me to stop.” He knows that it’s hard to talk sometimes and he wants you to be safe. If this is the kind of experience you want sometimes, you will need to discuss safe words and other safety precautions. Later.

It's possibly the most obedient you've ever been in your life and you put your hand over his wrist and squeeze it twice quickly to show him that you understand. "Like that. I love you, baby."

“I love you too.” He grunts, snapping his hips forward as he squeezes your windpipe for the first time. It’s not hard, but it’s firm enough to cut your air intake in half.

If he was worried even for a second that this might be going out on a limb or that you agreed to it just because you thought it would please him, that worry slides away instantly. As soon as he squeezes, your eyes rolls back in pleasure and your cunt squeezes his cock tight, flooding him with another rush of arousal.

“Holy shit, holy shit. You like that?” He groans, squeezing a little harder. “Yeah you do.” He hisses. “Open your mouth for me, Princess.”

You really fucking do like it, and the instinct for obedience it seems to ingrain in you has you opening your mouth immediately.

It’s a testament to his core training that he can take his other hand off the bed. Holding himself up as he presses his thumb to your tongue and hooks your jaw open even more as he continues to pound into you. “Suck.” He growls.

It might be the single sexiest thing you've ever seen. The way he practically blocks out the sun with the bulk of him and narrows down your entire world to only him feels incredible. Just swirling your tongue around his thumb and sucking it deeper into your mouth has you all the way to the edge of pleasure; but it's when Marcus growls again that you completely lose control, cumming so hard you feel like the world has gone white at the edges.

His blood pressure shoots through the roof and he’s pretty sure that you’ve just soaked the bed underneath you in the most intense orgasm he’s ever witnessed. Panting out your name as he continues to rock into you at an unhinged pace to intensify the pleasure.

If you could you’d beg him to join you. Moan praise and encouragements and tell him with complete honesty how incredibly well he’s fucking you. But being at his mercy like this means your best option is putting all your focus into lavishing the digit in your mouth in attention and bearing down on his cock in earnest any time he’s inside you.

“Fuck baby, fuck baby.” Marcus can’t keep up the growling when he feels like shouting at how hard you are squeezing him. “Gonna cum, gonna – fuck, fill up that little pussy.” He hisses, his hips stutter for a few thrusts before he is burying himself deep.

You practically have to catch him when he falls over the edge after you, just making sure that he doesn’t collapse in such a way that your heads knock together or he accidentally puts too much weight toward the one side of the bed you’ve ended up closer to. You let go of his wrist when his grip on your throat loosens, letting him slump into your body and wrapping that arm around his shoulders to hold him close as he rides out his orgasm.

It’s the most intense feeling Marcus has ever felt in his life. Bigger than any rush of adrenaline or dose of serotonin. For one heart stopping moment, he’s almost afraid that he’s had a heart attack. Body shaking with pleasure as he pours himself into you completely. It’s as if your bodies, as well as your souls, merge.

You dust soft kisses on his cheeks and along his jaw, reveling in the feeling of being completely full of him while he catches his breath.

“How are you feeling?” When he can think, Marcus pulls back to start checking in with you. His hand softening in its touch and he caresses your throat gently. He hadn’t been too rough, but he likes to make a fuss, especially when sex takes a turn like it did this morning.

“Fantastic.” You admit with only a hint of sheepishness in the way you smile at him and your hands caress his back and shoulders. “You?”

“Amazing.” He assures you softly. “Anything you didn’t quite like? Wanted more of?”

“I didn’t want to stop in the middle and ask how you felt about biting or scratching,” you admit. It feels silly to say since he paused to check in with you about getting rough, but you’re being honest. “And…I think we should talk about safe words?”

“We should.” Marcus agrees. “Expectations and needs are important to address as well.”

“I didn’t anticipate rough morning sex the first time,” you giggle, brushing sweat-matted hair from his forehead. “My mistake.”

“That was okay, right?” His soft brown eyes turned worried as he wonders if he overstepped for the first time you were together.

“Baby.” The worry on his face has you reaching for his immediately and pressing kisses to his lips. “It was amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard in my life.”

“Okay.” He sighs in relief. “I just didn’t want to overstep our first time.”

“Not at all.” A kiss on the bridge of his nose punctuates the promise. “As long as you enjoyed it, too. Sex should be about both of our pleasure.”

“I enjoyed myself.” Marcus admits with an embarrassed grin. “I enjoy getting a little rougher or darker depending on how my partner feels about it.”

“It’s not an every time thing,” you agree, enjoying the way Marcus almost blushes over admitting his pleasure, “but when you’re in the mood it’s so much fun.”

“I can completely agree.” He hums as he shifts to move off of you.

“Do you still want to go to the flea market today?” You’re up for anything. As long as you get to spend the day with him, everything is golden.

“What do you want?” He asks softly, cupping your cheek. “Your birthday was emotional and I just want to give you a day to enjoy.”

"I just want you. As cheesy as that sounds." Reaching up to peck a kiss on his lips, you shift off the bed along with him despite still-wobbly legs. "Let's take a shower and head to the flea market just like we planned. If something else strikes our fancy then we'll switch gears when we think of it?"

“That sounds like a perfect day to me.” Marcus quickly follows you, holding onto your waist as you go into the bathroom. “Shower together?”

"Absolutely." Naked Marcus is rapidly becoming one of your favorite versions of him, and you fully plan on pampering him in the shower in thanks for fucking you senseless. Seems like a fair trade in your mind.

He hums in approval and moves towards the shower stall to turn on the water while you take care of your after sex business. “Do I need to leave for you to use the bathroom?” He asks, aware that it might not be something you like to do— peeing in front of a partner.

"Not on my account." While some girls might be squeamish about that, you're not one of them. "If you can be inside me, you can stand to be in the room while I pee. That's my feeling, anyway."

“Sound logic to me.” He can’t argue with it. “Especially since one day I’ll be in a delivery room as you give birth to our children.”

"And you need to be okay with bodily functions way before that day comes." Hearing him be on the same page as you is both an enormous relief and absolutely thrilling at the same time and you flash him a grin. "Can I...tell you about the dream I had last night? Without you thinking I'm an absolute crazy person?"

“You can tell me anything, always.” He promises, returning your grin easily and reaching for the towels that are neatly folded on a shelf. “I want us to share anything and everything. For us to be more than just soulmates. Friends too.”

"To be fair, we were friends for a whole month before anything happened," you remind him. The shower is already starting to steam the bathroom mirror but you instinctively wash your hands after you finish on the toilet. "We were f-w-y. Friends with yearning."

“Lots of yearning.” Marcus can agree and he opens the door to let you step into the shower. “Tell me about your dream, Princess.”

"It was about us." Stepping under the hot water with him right behind you, you sigh and lean back under the hot spray. "We had..." A small laugh escapes you and you shake your head. "We had four kids, a big, beautiful Golden Retriever, and we were living in a beautiful little house that looked like a converted barn. It was the most beautiful little domestic vision and I almost didn't want to wake up, except I knew that you were there for real right next to me."

“Four kids, huh?” He grins as he wraps his arms around you and slides his hands up to cup your breasts. “These will be off limits for a long time then.”

"Your fault for telling me twins run in your family," you huff at him, though you arch into his touch immediately. "It got in my subconscious."

“I kind of like the idea of four.” He admits, whispering into your ear. “Two for each of us to corral.” He jokes. “We’ll need a big bed for Sunday morning snuggles when they are young.”

"California king and great big blankets for them to cuddle under." The image is a sweet one, and it conjures up lazy morning and plenty of giggling kiddos in your mind. "And the dog, to cap it all off. Because you know the dog will corral them and be their favourite playmate."

“Absolutely.” Marcus agrees, chuckling himself. “And shedding everywhere, getting muddy with them. Shrieking when he flings water all over them after a bath.”

You both laugh as you start to wash up, reaching for soap and for washcloths and maneuvering around each other in the shower that was definitely not built for two. "So thank you for a beautiful dream and a beautiful wake up."

“It was absolutely my pleasure.” Marcus puffs proudly. “Every single second of it.”

______

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

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

My Masterlist!

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

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razorblade180 · 3 days

Text

9 days of Lancaster Day 1: Training

Ruby considered herself an honest girl. Maybe a light fib every once and awhile but she really tried speaking her mind often! She meant it when she said she wishes to be a normal girl with normal knees. However, as Jaune flipped her onto a sparring mat, the next words out of her mouth made her wish seem like a lie.

Ruby:I am better than this outcome! I’m a natural born fighter, so why is this so hard!

Jaune:You really weren’t kidding about your hand to hand skills. I’m not even good.

Ruby:Lies! We all can’t be roommates with a ninja and learn cool skills!

Jaune:Yeah but…YOU have a ninja roommate.

Ruby:….

Jaune:…And a martial arts sis-

Ruby:Shut up! *springs up* Again! I’m focused! I will get you.

Jaune:Ren said most things come down to balance and timing. Try not rush this.

Ruby:I’d like to point out my weapon gives me reach and an immaculate pace. Without it you’re like two of me.

Jaune:Yeah but you’re amazing. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it soon enough.

Ruby:Your kindness has no effect on me.

Jaune:Pin me and I will buy lunch. If you lose then you do it.

Ruby:You’re on!

Without hesitation, a flying kick went past Jaune’s head. He barely had time to put his hands up to block a flurry of tiny but rapid fists.

The pressure was short lived when Jaune threw a punch that forced Ruby to weave. Darn his long arms! She put all her concentration into bobbing left and right, successfully avoiding slower but powerful blows as she worked the ring. Lunch was on the line and it wasn’t looking too good for her. She had to really think about her attacks. She was faster but Jaune was no slouch. It all comes down to timing.

Ruby noticed his right shoulder move back and began ducking as Jaune sent a right hook. As she ducked, Ruby made her move; a right uppercut was headed his way then immediately pulled back as he went to block. The faint worked! Ruby twisted her body into a left jab aimed right for his face! Unfortunately, the blow failed spectacularly. Jaune raised his right palm and caught it! No way he predicted that! Ruby immediately went for right but was once again caught and both arms were raised above her head. She refused to give up her free lunch!

Both of them made their move. Ruby went to knee him with her right but wasn’t expecting him to lean her body backwards. She quickly lost balance and her leg was caught with his left hand as her wrists became pinned by his right against a wall. She hadn’t even noticed how far back they moved during the fight. Did he purposely lead her over here!? The proud but surprised smile on his face told her yes. Ruby couldn’t help but pout as he chuckled.

Ruby:Ren has taught you too much.

Jaune:Lunch is on you today.

Ruby:This is clearly a draw.

Jaune:Rubes, you’re pinned.

Ruby:Last time i checked, your arms are full. Looks like we both can’t properly attack. I call that a draw~

She confidently huffed. That was until their little stare down slowly grew closer.

Jaune:You really think I’m out of moves?

Ruby:Pr-Prove me wrong.

Why was she stuttering? Now was not the time to show weakness to the enemy! Cobalt eyes grew ever larger as they got closer to pools of silver. The grip on her wrists became a bit more firm, as well as his fingers behind her knee. Escaping the pin suddenly felt more like a suggestion than a need, and Ruby was so thrown off right now all she could think to do was close her eyes and wait for his “attack”

After what felt like an eternity, a soft press against her forehead connected with his own before leaving. Suddenly her limbs were free and she felt his presence back off. Ruby opened her eyes to see her friend looking completely the other way with his ears as red as her cape l; and her face at this point.

Jaune:See? I could’ve headbutted you.

Ruby:Y-Yeah…right. I can’t argue with that. *rubs head* Lunch is on me.

Jaune:Let’s call it here. Also… I will but dessert.

He briskly runs off, leaving Ruby to stew in the moment. She didn’t know what was worse; that he might’ve been going for a headbutt from the start but she clearly puckered up, or the fact she could still feel his grip on her. Either way, she was dying inside.

Ruby:(Why does hand to hand have to be so close?!)

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #rwby lancaster #9 days of lancaster 2024 #9 days of lancaster

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bluishfrog · 2 months

Note

Do you ever think about how George took a chance in Dream out of university? He could've probably had a decently paying job, but no, there was this young American guy that promised him the world and without thinking about it, George agreed. No questions asked. And it would take him years to even see the other guy. But George didn't care because he trusts and loves Dream with his whole being. He would live in a timezone 5 hours behind his own, sleep during the day, live during the night, just so they could spend more time with each other. And when time was right he would leave his whole entire life behind to move in with Dream whom he had never met before. And ever since then, even though their world has exploded multiple times, they have never left each others side. Side by side, forever.

- 🐝

At the beginning of my time in this fandom, I did ask myself why George said yes to all of this. He must have had many other, much more comfortable options.

And then there was this young, inexperienced guy who must have dreamed of an audience, of a community, of success, of everything they could imagine. And George must have known that despite all the confidence, despite all the hours of studying an algorithm, there was no guarantee for this. And there would never be.

So why did he agree so easily to something so uncertain? Well, you see, success wasn't everything this guy promised.

Before anything else, he promised to do it together. Chase wild hopes together, maybe climb the highest mountains of success together, maybe fail spectacularly together. But whatever may come, they'd be together.

So yes, I did think about why George took this chance, this risk. And I don't think it was because he got promised a dream. I think he did it because he got promised Dream.

#blu rambles

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thought--bubble · 7 months

Text

She is Happy Now Part (2/5)

Modern Aemond X (Ex Girlfriend Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 2,116

She is happy now Master List

Modern Aemond Master List

Full Master List

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cheating, alcohol use, dubcon, and a bit of angst.

"Is she coming?"

"I don't know. Her asshole cheater ex is going to be there so she might not"

Aemond rolls his eye and clenches his jaw.

"It's been years, Heleana. You think you could maybe stop calling me that?"

" I love you Aem, your my brother but when it comes to you and her I'm on her side. You were a major Jerk"

He groans and runs his hand down his face.

He is sitting at Heleanas breakfast bar in her kitchen. Heleana is moving around the kitchen, getting breakfast ready, and putting coffee on.

"I am aware that I'm the asshole in this story." He lets out a sigh. "I just want to see her again"

"She's happy now, you know. So, any little magical scenarios you have made up in your head where you woo her back to you can be left right there in your head. " she looked at him warningly.

He doesn't say anything and just looks down playing with his fingers.

"She has been with Cregan for a few months now. He's good for her AND good to her. Something you failed at spectacularly"

"We were good together for 4 years! I wasn't horrible the entire time! I messed up once. One time. And she never spoke to me again!"

"If Gwayne had done to me what you did to her.... how would you react?" She looks at him eyebrows raised.

Aemond sighs and puts his head down on the counter. It's pointless Heleana never let's him get away with making up excuses for how your relationship ended and he knows she's right.

He tried for months after you left his dorm to contact you. Apologize. Promise it would never happen again. It was Heleana who ended up making him realize what was done was done.

"Have you heard from her?"

"Yes." Heleana sighed into the phone

"So did you ask her to call me?"

"I did. And then she sent me a video explaining why she didn't want to."

Aemond cringed. "A video?"

"Oh yeah. Like the idiot I am, I told her to record your reaction to her surprise, saying you would be so excited. So she got your entire reunion on video. You're a real prince charming, you know? Do not ask me to contact her again on your behalf. I won't do it and neither will egg. Least you could do at this point is leave her alone."

Aemond is pulled out of his memories by Gwaynes loud. "Good morning!" And the laughter of his niece and nephew.

"Uncle Almond," jaheara yells excitedly. She is only 3 and pronounces his name almond, which Aegon finds hilarious.

"Hey peanut" he reaches down and picks her up placing a big sloppy kiss on her forehead

"Ewwww! She shrieks, wiping her forehead and trying to wiggle out of his arms.

"Everybody ready to go get Uncle Aegon married today?" Gwayne says excitedly towards the kids.

Aemond puts down jaheara and sits on his stool stewing in his own frustration. He never thought that Aegon would be happily married while he was the one alone. Miserable and full of regret.

He never meant to let it get that far with his professor. He knew she was attracted to him right away. He could tell by the way her touch lingered whenever he turned in an assignment or the way her gaze would find him during lectures. He thought flirt with her, and a good grade would be easy. What he didn't plan on was bumping into her on his way back from his first college party drunk out of his mind and having not seen his girlfriend for months. He didn't plan on her offering to help him get back to his dorm, and he didn't plan on allowing her to come in.

He sobered up immediately when he saw her standing at the door, though. The gravity of what he had just done and what was happening in that moment hit him like a freight train.

"Shit! Baby, hold on, let me explain. " Aemond could feel his desperation tightening in his chest. He fucked up, bad, and he knew it .

"Oh, ummm, nope, no thanks"

That reaction was the worst thing he could have gotten from her. No yelling, no fight to be had she was just leaving and not turning back.

He started to panic. If she left right now like this after seeing what he had done, he was afraid that would be it. He grabbed her arm "wait please just give me one second "

You turned on him like a viper pushing his arm away "do not fucking touch me, forget my name loose my number I no longer exist to you"

His chest clenched, it felt like his heart was being squeezed. he swayed on his feet, swallowing down the sickness that attempted to make its way up his throat.

You had turned and went down the hall and out through the doors that led to the stairs

"Shit shit shit! " Aemond ran back into his dorm quickly, putting his sweatpants and sneakers on. His professor was sitting on the bed, strapping her shoes on.

"You know I wouldn't have come up here with you if I knew there was a girlfriend." She looked at him angrily

"I'm sorry" was all he could get out as he ran out of his dorm down the hallway and down the stairs and right through the doors to outside. He ran down the walkway, looking both directions, but didn't see you anywhere.

"No no no no! This can't be it, no, no!" Aemond was yanking at his hair, his eye full of tears. He tries to run to the left but is not steady on his feet because of how much he drank and ends up falling on the sidewalk. He attempts to get himself up but gives up exhausted and lets out a huge loud sob.

He rolls onto his back on the cement of the walkway and just looks up at the sky while tears roll down his cheek.

"This isn't really how we end, is it?" He says to no one

"Hello! Earth to Aemond!" Aemond crashes back into the present with Heleana snapping in his face. She sighs and looks at him tenderly.

"Cmon, eat your breakfast and get ready." She taps his shoulder as she heads out of the kitchen and up the stairs to get her and the kids ready for Aegons nuptials.

He isn't able to get much down, but he takes a few bites and heads upstairs to get himself ready.

He drives to the ceremony with Heleana and Gwayne sitting in the middle of the backseat between the twins in their booster seats.

"I'm gonna marry you one day" Aemond says dreamily looking up at his ceiling.

It's summer of junior year and you are both squished onto his twin bed his arm under you holding you close.

"Oh?" You say picking your head up and looking at him.

"Isn't it obvious, darling? Can't live without ya. Marriage is a given at this point" he laughs, grabbing your chin and pulling you in for a kiss.

"Would you want to get married in the grand Sept or on the beach?"

"Anywhere as long as I'm marrying you," aemond leans in for another kiss.

"I'm serious I want to have it all planned out ahead of time!"

"Then plan it out, baby. Because no matter where it is, I'll show up to marry you"

You giggled as he rolled over on top of you kissing you with purpose

The car door slams. They have made it to the grand Sept, and it is time to get this show on the road. Aemond makes his way inside and heads to the grooms room where Aegon is bouncing around with excitement, putting on his finishing touches.

"Aemond! Smile, man! This is a joyous day!" Aegon yells at him while grabbing his arm and pulling him all the way into the room.

Aemond forces a big smile on his face for Aegon's benefit. It's not that he isn't happy for his brother, he is. He just can't help the jealousy that is flowing through him at this moment.

This could have been them. Should have been them. Would have been them if he didn't screw it all up.

When it's time for the actual ceremony to begin, everyone makes their way to their places. Aemond smiles at Ellyn as they get in line. He can feel his heart rate speed up at the thought that you might be out there. After years of being so far from you, you both might actually be in the same room at the same time.

Aemond waits impatiently for the pair ahead of them to step in front of the doorway and start to walk down the aisle. Once Criston and Maris step out and down the aisle, he and ellyn move forward and stand in the doorway. He sees you right away. You're looking down at the ground, but he could spot that little heart tattoo on the back of your neck anywhere. He has a matching one on the inside of his wrist. He's happy to see yours hasn't been covered or blacked out.

"Matching tattoos? are you daft?" Aegon laughs while looking at Aemond incredulously.

Aemond ignores him slathering on some of the aftercare products he had been told he would need to put on a few times a day.

"And what will you do when you split up? Walking around with that on your arm to remind you forever?"

Aemond laughs and continues applying the balm,"we aren't going to split up egg. This tattoo is forever, and so are we"

"You are 18 Aemond! You couldn't possibly know that you will stay together forever! You leave for university in less than a month! You really think the long-distance thing is going to work? For 4 years?"

"I know it will. Just because you don't understand commitment doesn't mean I don't, " Aemond says haughtily.

Aegon rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say. Just don't let mom see that. She's gonna kill you!"

Ellyn yanks on Aemonds arm and looks at him perplexed.

He clears his throat and starts to make his way down the aisle. Unfortunately for him, he can't really see you now because you're on his blind side. They make it up to the altar and release their arms, each moving to their assigned spot. He flicks his eye back towards you, and you're hard to see. Why did you have to sit so far back?

He pays no attention to how the ceremony continues going on around him, shaking his leg impatiently.

He hears his mother clear her throat from the front row. He looks at her, and she opens her eyes wide and waves her hand at him in a way of telling him to cut it out.

He straightens his back and stands up tall, taking in a deep breath. Focusing on Aegon and Cassandra. They are putting the rings on each other's fingers, and he feels a wave of pain roll through him.

His hands clapsed before him, he started unconsciously rubbing his wrist where the heart tattoo sits. He had no idea this was going to be this hard. His whole body is shaking with emotional overload. When finally Aegon and Cassandra kiss and then turn to their guests, raising their claspsed hands above their heads and starting to make their way back down the aisle he moves forward on shakey legs and joins his arm with Ellyns once more, walking down the aisle he keeps his eye trained on where he knows you are. Your head is turned away from him, looking at the entryway. He can see your arm is looped around the arm of the brown haired man standing next to you. How he would give anything to switch places with him. Even just for a minute. As he continues down the aisle eye trained on you, you turn your head, and it happens. Your tear filled eyes find his, and he forgets how to breathe. Those eyes he has seen filled with rage and hurt for years in his dreams are there right in front of him, filled with tears, and he thinks they have never been more beautiful.

He is forced to stop looking at you once he passes, but he knows your last conversation can't be the last interaction you ever have. No, he has one more chance to talk to you.

At the reception.

A/N: Part 3 is in the works. I have a mid-term tonight and a lot of homework this weekend, so I probably won't get it out until Monday. Thank you to anyone who reads :) ❤️

Part 3

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#modern aemond x reader #aemond x reader #modern aemond angst #modern aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #modern aemond/ you #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #ewan mitchell verse #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell #jess fics #my modern war criminal bf

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delta-pavonis · 4 months

Note

'allo! may i have a bit of Friend Like Me? ;)

Absolutely! I have posted some of this before, but once again Tumblr's search function is failing me and apparently I can't organize my own tags for shit so... This is Matthew + Hob used to be partners in crime (literally) and Hob may or may not have started the crew from Leverage. 😂

100% G-rated fluff over here.

Hob has to do this every few decades otherwise he would be up to his eyeballs in storage units. It isn't fun, but neither is having too many moving parts to keep track of and potentially getting caught by another asshat with a hard-on for immortality.

What was that quote he had read? "No matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style."

Not to mention the myriad other enemies he had accumulated via his network of grifters, hitters, and hackers.

(What? The current state of technological advancements meant that Hob needed to get better at tracking and erasing his digital presence back in the late nineties. Was it his fault that while he was living in the States he had accidentally amassed a highly skilled group of "criminals" who were all connected to him like spokes to the hub on a carriage wheel? And that it turned out that they were, as a team, really great at liberating funds and removing items from billionaire idiots who didn't need a fraction of their accumulated wealth and power? That they did it so well that Hob had to fake his own death earlier than expected to get out from under a particularly angry arms dealer? Was that really all because of him?)

(Yes. Yes it was.)

Yeah, anyway, Hob didn't leave the house without at least one blade on his person anymore.

This is why, when Hob is interrupted by a large black mass swerving into his storage unit through the crack in the door that should be far too small to admit such a creature, he pulls the nearest throwing knife (he was crouching, so he went for the one concealed in a sheath on the outside ankle of his black leather chelseas), clocks the intruder's movement in his peripheral vision, and wings it directly at them. It hits the wall with a satisfying kthud, which is promptly followed by a very avian squawking.

"FUCKING CAWCHRIST MY DUDE WAS THAT A KNIFE!?! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS, THE IDES OF FUCKING MARCH?!"

That voice! Hob's head snaps up to see a sizable black bird falling in a tumble. It hits the concrete floor with a sound not unlike a briefcase hitting pavement from a story up (what? It is a very distinctive sound), leaving three large feathers tacked into the wall by the knife.

"Fuck me sideways that HURTS. Note to self, birds no likey losing butt feathers." The bird (A raven? Like this is the bloody Tower of London?) walks out from around a cardboard box with a bit of a waddle in its step, trying to look back at his tail while he moves. "I guess the Boss didn't tell you I was coming then?"

Hob sits back on his heels. That voice is still hauntingly familiar. But he would damned well remember meeting a talking bird. "Well, perhaps if you told me who your Boss is..."

The raven leaps a solid four feet into the air with a screech. He lands on top of a small writing desk, scrabbles against the smooth surface to balance himself, and then looks down at Hob with one glass-black eye. "I can't believe... no fucking way... Robbie? Is that you? Didn't you die in 2017?"

"Mattie?!" Hob's ass hits the cool floor as he is blown back by the revelation. "Didn't you die in 2020?"

Matthew Cable had been one of Hob's favorite grifters. Not because he was absolutely perfect at his job (oh no, Mattie had fucked up spectacularly more times then Hob’s blood pressure wants to recall), but because they had quickly become "let's get absolutely toasted and MST3K bad horror movies while we bitch about our love lives" buddies. Hob had missed Mattie immediately upon his own faked death and had mourned when he heard, through various channels he still kept an ear to, that Mattie had died in his sleep not too long ago.

"Yeah, but when I died I was given, like, a choice? Apparently the King of Dreams needed a new Raven and I decided to give it a go. Sounded much more interesting to work for him than actual death. There must be some mistake because I was sent here with a message for Hhh..." Mattie freezes.

"Dream sent you?" Hob tilts his head in interest. This was the Matthew he had often mentioned? A raven that carried his messages? Hob had been jealous over a bird?! (Oh Christ, how embarrassing.)

"Wait... what the fuck are you doing in Hob GaaaaAAHHHH!" Mattie the Raven starts hopping around frantically. "YOU ARE NOT JUST IN HOB GADLING'S STORAGE UNIT. YOU ARE HOB GADLING! FRIEND OF THE LORD MORPHEUS, KING OF DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES!"

Hob can't help his laughter. "Oh, he told you I was his friend, did he?" That Dream had called him friend to someone else shouldn't feel as good as it did. Hob tamps that useless bit of emotion down hard. (No good can come of that, better to put it away.) "Only took him six centuries to get there, stubborn wanker that he is." He fails to keep the fondness from his voice.

"Christ you have no idea how much of a wanker sometimes..." Mattie shuffles his feathers. "Look, I gotta know the story here, man. How did you meet the King of Dreams?"

Hob stands, brushing off his jeans. "That... is a rather long story." He considers for a minute, barely that, rubbing at the back of his neck, before coming to a decision. "Look, it isn't like I get my close friends back from the dead every day... how about we head back to my flat, pull up something ridiculous like Slenderman, and I will fill you in on my story? Like old times?"

Mattie flaps over and lands on Hob's shoulder. "Hells to the yes. Especially if we can find out if ravens respond to THC. Shit, you ever get more of that Amnesia shit the team picked up in Amsterdam during that art heist job?"

Hob's belly laugh echoes in the small room. "I think I still have some squirreled away from my last trip to the continent."

He locks the storage unit behind them. All the spring cleaning can happen another day.

___________________________________

They did not, upon making it back to Hob’s flat above The New Inn, actually end up watching their intended horror movie. Instead, as they were flipping through options, they stumbled upon the live-action remake of Aladdin and Mattie had been so damned adamant that he wanted to see it while high that Hob had allowed the deviation from their established pattern.

“That bird is a fucking useless sidekick. I will show you how to do it!” Matthew stands, wobbles, and falls off where he had been balanced on the arm of Hob’s couch.

Hob cackles, slouching back into the cushions. “Well, that’s your answer to the question about birds and THC, innit?”

Matthew flapped his way up onto the space next to Hob. “Hey, I am still getting used to this stupid body without any fucking thumbs.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugs, sinking even further back and letting the movie drift into the background, a gentle blanket of familiar songs. “So I can feel you trying to not ask questions. Ask away, Mattie. I owe you that much, at least.”

“Fucking right you do, faking your death like that caw.” The raven shakes his head. “Where even to start… Oh! I got it! When and how did you meet the King of Dreams and Nightmares? That must have been a trip and a half.”

The memory makes Hob even warmer and he feels himself grinning as he looks at the ceiling. “I was drinking with my pals at a tavern, the White Horse, in the year of our lord thirteen hundred and eighty nine…”

“Wait. The fuck? You are…” Mattie clearly stops to count for a blink, “almost seven hundred years old?”

“That I am, now let me finish… I rather loudly proclaimed that I had decided not to die. Just wasn’t going to fucking do it. And that was when he approached the table,” Hob closes his eyes, the swooping feeling of seeing Dream for the first time still razor sharp in his memory. Should he tell Mattie? Well, he had never been dishonest with the man before, no reason to start now. So Hob let all his emotional walls down. “And I swear to God, Mattie, it was like seeing a meteor shower for the first time. It was like discovering a second moon. I was absolutely dumbstruck by the beauty of this cocky young Lordling, all standing before me like he owned half the country. Looked it too, with that giant fucking ruby around his neck and his fine clothing.” Hob shakes his head, grin widening. “He offered me a deal. If I wanted unending life, then I could come back to that tavern on the same day at the same time one hundred years hence and tell him of my experiences of life so long-lasting. And here I am.” When Mattie doesn't immediately respond, Hob opens his eyes and turns his head. “What?”

The raven was studying him intently. When he spoke it was carefully metered and very much not in jest. “Robbie. I might be a bird now, but I would know that expression on your face anywhere. Do you… Are you…”

He didn’t need to put words to it, Hob knew exactly what his friend meant. He shrugged. “Aye, I probably am. But you have to understand, Mattie, he has been the only constant in my whole long life. Hundreds of relationships. Thousands of friendships. Centuries of life. And he was my only anchor.” Hob lets himself drift on that thought for a moment before coming back. “Did you know that I didn’t know his name until a few months ago when he showed up at the New Inn?”

“What?! What kind of asshole doesn’t give his – oh, wait, this is Dream I am talking about, isn’t it…”

Hob laughs. “You are very correct. Dream’s stubbornness is only surpassed by his beauty.”

“Wow. You’ve got it bad.”

“Most likely.” Hob inclines his head. “But I am happy with whatever type of relationship he is capable of with me."

The raven whistles. "Got it baaaad."

____________________________

And so it happens that Hob and Mattie are stonedly bickering over if Will Smith’s portrayal of the Genie was a good homage or a bad mockery (all while A Whole New World starts up in the background) when the King of Dreams and Nightmares steps out of nothingness and into Hob’s living room.

“Matthew! You were told to deliver a message, not spend an entire day-”

Hob cuts Dream off with an overdramatic, “OoooOOOOoooh, Mattie, you are in trooooouble.” Dream’s stern face snaps to Hob’s and he slaps a hand over his mouth while he giggles none-too-loudly, “OooooOOOh, now I am in trooooouble.”

That makes Mattie burst into giggles and let it be known that the giggle of a raven is not actually a pleasant sound to take in.

So it makes Hob laugh harder.

Then he sees Dream’s absolutely bewildered expression.

And that makes Hob laugh even harder.

Sobbing as he laughs, collapsed to the floor (having initially fallen clear off the couch in surprise at Dream’s entrance), clutching his belly, Hob can’t even bring himself to worry that Dream might actually be angry with him. Fuck, Hob just got Mattie back. This is fucking great.

Hob wipes at his face as his hysterics subside, trying to keep his voice steady as he addresses Dream from his place on the floor. “I’m sorry, m’love, I didn’t mean to patronize you, I just-” He cuts himself off when he sees, for the first time, a petal-pink blush color his Stranger’s cheeks.

“You called him your love!” Mattie cackles. Hob feels himself blush now, too. That was a slip. That shouldn’t have happened. (Ah, bollocks.) “You are so in for it now. The Boss hates pet names! Once I tried to call him Lord Mew-mew because he was acting like a wet fucking cat and-”

“Enough.” Dream waves his hand to his Raven and the bird is immediately silenced. “Matthew, leave us. I am not asking.”

“Aww, maannn.” Mattie shakes himself off and seems to become shockingly sober with just a ruffle of feathers. “Roger that, Boss. See you back at home.” Then he nods to Hob. “We should do this again sometime.”

Before Hob can respond Mattie has taken wing and flown out a window that definitely was not open a moment ago. When he looks back up it is to have Dream’s hand in front of his face, gently offering to help him stand. Hob takes it, if only for the excuse to touch his Stranger’s skin for the first time. (His touch is cool, his fingers long and uncalloused, his skin smooth. Hob memorizes every sensation greedily.)

Dream seems to realize this once Hob is on his feet because the blush deepens slightly and he retracts his hand with a jerky motion.

“I am sorry if I offended you, Dream.” Hob takes a step to the side and tries to catch his friend’s eye. Dream keeps purposefully looking away. “It is just a silly human endearment. I am rather high on some excellent weed and I didn’t mean-”

“Ah.” Dream interrupts and Hob’s jaw clicks shut. Dream is still not looking at him and so Hob can see the way the muscles in his jaw flex with tension. “Just a silly endearment. You did not mean it.”

Something fiery swoops inside Hob. Dream has never acted like this. Never avoided Hob’s eyes. Never interrupted him. And all because Hob had accidentally called him love.

See, thing is, Hob does mean it. More than he has words for. But never did he think… Dream couldn’t possibly. Fuck. Hob is too high to think clearly about this.

Hob steps into Dream’s line of sight, forces the slightly taller anthropomorphic personification to meet his eyes. Why it comes out a whisper when Hob speaks he will never know. “Dream. Do you want me to mean it? Do you want me to call you,” he hesitates for a moment because this could ruin everything. (But look at him! Look at the hurt in his expression, the tension in his shoulders. He does not hide it well, now that Hob knows what to look for - thanks, Sophie.) “my love?”

It is answer enough to see Dream’s pupils dilate and his nostrils flare. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

He is shaking when he goes to take Dream’s hand, brings it up to press a kiss to those beautiful fingers. “If I am reading this wrong then please please let’s just chalk it up to the THC and pretend this never happened. But…” Hob takes the last step in and now they are almost chest-to-chest, “I thought you would have figured it out after 1689… you are my guiding star. It is you who I wait decades for. You who I hope to impress with my experiences. You who I have yearned to touch with every fiber of my being for literal centuries.” Dream is blinking wide eyes at him now, confusion and surprise and hope all written there. “And if your friendship is all I can have, then so be it. But, Dream. If I had three wishes I would spend them all just to be able to call you love.”

#Pavonis writes #Dreamling #Leverage AU

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carpedzem · 2 months

Note

I cannot begin to understand what the hell he thought he was doing. He's (supposed to be) a LAW student. He's spent countless hours learning the exact things he miserably failed to do in qsmp, not only did he fail, HIS company actively BROKE laws. Giving ppl a bogus NDA, hiring ppl and then not paying them (and the salary of the paid ones was laughable), being complicit in the isolation, intimidation and defamation of his own employees..Stalking and controlling the personal lives of his employees. Also hiring minors and disguising work as "volunteering"? No way that didn't cross some kind of child labor law. Fuck. Did he genuinely believe his "passion project" wouldn't catch fire and burn down spectacularly?

How fucking embarrassing. He does not deserve that law degree. Genuinely.

#sorry anon #nonny

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