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hyomaslut · 10 months

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──★ ˙🌟 ̟ !! gold star redemption program. 18+!

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).�� ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ʙʟᴜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋ's ғᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇʀ

✿ ─ synopsis: you are the new manager for team blue lock and you have a great idea to make the players get along better. after all, positive reinforcement worked really well on dogs, why not men? ✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, chigiri hyoma + kunigami rensuke referenced ✿ ─ cw: smut, fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, aged-up!characters(18+), pet names, kissing, penetrative sex, oral receiving/giving, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, rough sex, deepthroating/face-fucking, non-exclusive relationships, lots of jealousy, pda, use of foul language, suggestive themes, shidou is an asshole, rin threatens murder, somewhat proofread ✿ ─ notes: okay so every is going to ignore the logistics and mental gymnastics done to put all these guys on the same team and have any of this go on, right? cool. this work was requested by @anastasiablossomlove pls enjoy!

managing team blue lock was no task for a person of average conviction. anyone with less of a spine would be easily trampled and consumed by the members, all with big personalities and even bigger egos. you took to the role with exceptional organizational skills and a positive attitude that didn’t falter, even under the cold glares of the less compliant men of the team (cough cough itoshi rin cough cough barou shouei). before the end of your first week you had drafted up detailed and individualized meal plans, unique to each of them. by the second you had worked with the coach to create special training regimes that works towards their fitness goals while providing challenge and variety. right under their noses you dug your pretty fingers into every part of team blue lock, finding every issue and soothing every conflict, turning a group of somewhat wild animals into a well functioning machine with you at its core.

and not a detail slipped your eye. you could always tell when kunigami had pushed himself too hard in the gym by the stiffness in his shoulders. honestly you doubt you would’ve been able to convince him to let you help him if he wasn’t just as sore as you predicted. but the minute your palms were pressing into his back he was groaning in relief, “you’re an angel” grumbled under his breath. he’s a bit less embarrassed the next time around, blushing while asking you to fix him like you did last time.

you quickly took responsibility for doing chigiri’s hair before every practice and game. after seeing it fall out of its style and flap wildly in his face whenever he reached top speed on the field, you decided he needed something a little more reliable to keep it out the way so his eyes could stay on the ball. though when his hair was this soft, who could blame you for taking a bit longer than necessary, brushing through the knots and gently scratching at his scalp. plus, he didn’t seem to mind all that much, always red faced and all smiles, leaning into your touch. the thank you kiss he plants on your cheek lingers long enough to leave a matching blush on your face as a token of his appreciation.

being the backbone of their system earned you respect, acknowledgement, even affection from the overly friendly members of the team (cough cough bachira meguru cough cough shidou ryusei). no one could deny the benefits of having you around, always offering all kinds of helpful advice and showed not a shred of judgment when listening to their problems. and you weren’t exactly ignorant to the fact that your constant support was causing some of your new friends to become especially attached to you. maybe to someone else it would be a bigger concern, but in your eyes, this was only another opportunity to do more for your team.

that’s why you implemented the gold star redemption program to help motivate them. it was quite simple to follow, you had a chart with all of their names along with cute, slightly wonky doodles of them, and a list of ways to earn gold stars. from goals and assists to being on good behavior, whatever way they earn their stars, team members can then cash them in for certain prizes from you. the list had looked something like this…

2 ☆ = snack or drink of your choice 4 ☆ = a home cooked meal 5 ☆ = a kiss <3 7 ☆ = a massage <33 10 ☆ = private training session <333

the objective was to give incentives towards cooperation. not to mention, it’s always good to strengthen bonds with your team members. it seems, however, that you underestimated how much of your time this new system would take up. or maybe you just overestimated how easy it would be to keep up with the greedy desires of so many egoists at once.

ever since your arrival, anyone with eyes could see that isagi yoichi carried a torch for you. you let him talk your ear off for hours about tactics and players, never tired of his company or too busy for his rambles. it gets his heart thumping obnoxiously loud in his chest. so yoichi makes it his objective to dote on you as much as possible to try to make up for all the time you spend fussing over everybody else. always staying after practice to help you or walking you home. so when you start handing out stars for that kind of stuff, isagi is already making a steady income. he considers himself a gentleman, so at first he spends his stars on meals. and he’s more than happy to eat your cooking, stirring up all kinds of wifey fantasies in his head and enjoying his lunches with you. but at night, when he’s lying in bed, the big ticket item at the bottom of the prize board haunts him. and when he can’t take it anymore, he slips into your tiny little office that you share with the coach, a self-satisfied smile on his face when he lets you know that he just finished the stat sheets you asked him to fill out, earning him his tenth gold star. enough for one private training session.

in all the times you thought about sex with isagi, you’re not sure you ever pictured it to be like this. bent over your own desk, tennis skirt bunched up around your waist, your star player too eager to sink into your pussy to even push down your underwear. they stayed tugged to the side, thoroughly soaked from the way his hips meet yours in sloppy desperate thrusts. “i knew i needed to fuck you when i saw this skirt,” he confesses, eyes fixed to the point where you connect, mesmerized by the way his cock disappears inside you, “you’ve been tempting me all day, so be a good girl and take my cock, okay?” before you can respond he hooks a finger into the elastic of your panties to let it snap back against your skin, drawing a small yelp from you. he changs the angle to fuck you harder, deeper. you wonder if this could be the same sweet yoichi that carries your things and bashfully tells you your outfit looks good.

apparently that yoichi doesn’t exist once he’s balls deep inside you, all that’s left is the side of him you’ve only caught glimpses of when he’s dominating his opponents on the field. and if you thought that it was a chance encounter, you’re sorely mistaken as week after week isagi makes sure he earns his ten stars and you get to know just how mean he can be. his grip is always tight around your hair, whether it’s pulling and steering you into the position he wants or guiding your head down to take more of his dick. god forbid he asks you nicely for something like he always does when you’re not ‘training’. one time you even had the gall to suggest the idea to him and lived to regret it as now if you want anything from him, isagi is only accepting the most convincing of your begs. “c'mon princess, mind your manners, if you wanna cum then you’re gonna have to ask really nicely.” and no teary eyed puppy dog look will get you what you want, even when he makes getting your words out so difficult. truthfully, he never intends to be so hard on you, but having you crying and begging for his cock is the only way to soothe the devil on his shoulder that tries to tell him to take you for himself. in the aftermath, you start to recognize your yoichi again, sheepish in his apologies for how rough he was with you, kissing away the tears that run down your face. he’s lucky you’re too fucked out to charge him for them.

there’s not a world where you offer bachira meguru sexual favors in exchange for playing soccer and he says no. he was already gonna do that anyway, and now not only does he get to make even more of a game out of it, but his reward for winning is the cute little manager he’s had his eyes on for far too long? consider him sold. bachira knows it would be most fun for him to save up and have sex with you as soon as possible, but all of a sudden he has five and he’s itching for a kiss. one he decides to give you right before practice starts… in front of the whole team. but can you blame him? he’s already been waiting forever to feel those pretty glossed lips on his, you couldn’t really expect him to make it through the next few hours when he’s so close to getting what he wants. and you could maybe understand that, but was it really necessary to go for a full open-mouthed wet almost make out that left you panting when everyone’s eyes were already on you? you suspect not, but bachira doubles down, telling you it was of upmost importance that he got it in, else he wouldn’t be able to focus. he neglects to tell you that he overheard reo in the locker room talking about what he was gonna do now that he had five stars. shidou already made it very clear that he would be first to ten, so bachira had to be crafty in order to secure at least one first from you.

meguru was certainly one of the more needy players, right under nagi that required some form of encouragement every step of the way to get anything done. bachira usually does what you tell him to, but not without whining about deserving a prize for being good. quite frankly, you dread having to ask anything of him, because he is determined to be fully compensated for even the smallest of requests. even a task as easy as grabbing something on a high shelf was met with a cheeky smirk and a request for a kiss. and don’t think he’ll budge either, holding the item hostage if he thinks he can squeeze two out of you. it didn’t make it any easier that bachira didn’t possess a shy bone in his whole body, openly showering you in affection when the others were around, holding your hand and nuzzling his face into your collar. it was enough to make even a professional like you blush. he acted as if he was oblivious to the jealous stares of his friends, but the smug cat-like smirk he sends them and the way he only holds you tighter when you try to shyly brush him off gives him away. it may come as a surprise considering his reputation for being a bit delusional, but bachira tries to root himself in reality for once. he frequently reminds himself of the nature of your relationship and tries his best not let his imagination run wild with anything that would be beyond the boundaries you’ve clearly set. things like picturing himself taking you on dates, coming home to you at night, introducing you to his mom. they were all too dangerous to let his mind settle on them for too long.

and what better distraction than burying his face between your thighs. it’s hard to think of much when he hasn’t bothered to stop lapping at your cunt long enough to take a breath in a couple minutes. suffocating was the least of his concerns when the clench around his fingers lets him know your orgasm is just around the corner. meguru swears that your pathetic little whimpers and the slick dripping down his chin are like a straight hit of dopamine to his brain and he’s at real risk of addiction at this point. lidded amber eyes travel up to watch your expression twist into one of pleasure as you gasp out his name. now that catches his interest. when your vision clears and your brain is functioning again after that intense high, you search for his comfort as if you had done any of the hard work. but all you’re met with is that signature wild look that he gets when he brushing past the enemy team’s defense straight towards his goal. it’s your only warning that he’s far from tired and even farther from sated. “if i can keep going, so can you baby. i know you have more for me. jus’ need t’see you make that face one more time.” you have no room to protest, his tongue already finding your clit and working towards bringing you to the edge once again. by your fourth time cumming, you’re sobbing for a break and debating whether you should charge him four times over or give him a star for each one.

someone who was on board with your system from the second that you explained how it worked, was shidou ryusei. what better way to celebrate another one of his blood pumping, heart stopping performances than racing to the locker room to blow a load in his favorite girl while his teammates debrief with the coach? to him it was simple, you fuck him, you feed him, you take care of him, you spend time with him. shidou is, by all of his definitions, dating you. while some might be turned off by the idea of dating someone who isn’t offering exclusivity, he didn’t see it as much of an obstacle. not when he spent star stickers like a gambler on a slot machine, having you multiple times a week if the economy allowed it. and if he’s short a few, no worries, ryusei is quite the negotiator. it starts one week when he’s only missing a star or two, promising he’ll pay back the difference, you know he’s a good customer. it’s probably not a good idea to give in to him though, as the next time he wants a private training session, he’ll insist they’re only nine stars for him. he has made all kinds of fake coupons from 50% Off! to Buy One Get One Free! to even a homemade punch card in his own terrible handwriting. shidou was the first one to ever get a star taken away when he tried to give you an arby’s gift card in exchange for a blowjob. he didn’t try that tactic again.

the worst is when he tries to haggle in the middle of sex. your legs are thrown over his shoulders and his tip is kissing your cervix when he chooses to whine about not being able to kiss you because he has no stars left. he worked too hard to get good star credit, he can’t go into star debt!! “ and with his lips just hovering over yours, his hot breath fanning across your face, how could you say no? in a moment of weakness, you have unfortunately given an inch to shidou, infamous mile taker, and now it’s hard to get him to pay for any of his kisses, especially while he’s fucking you. you thank god that at the very least no one knows he’s been getting them for free… if only shidou would allow your life to be that easy. even worse than giving him an inch, you expected shidou to keep a secret. and you thought his big mouth was something you liked about him. until he’s using it to brag to everyone that he’s your favorite, practically your boyfriend, all because you let him get away with a smooch here and there. let’s just say you had to give out a lot of free kisses to smooth over the problem his bragging habits created.

honestly ryusei was starting to cause a lot of confusion outside of the team with his antics. what with his always hanging off your arm, giving you as much affection as you’d tolerate, calling you sweet nicknames. the people in your life were actually starting to believe you two were dating. not that shidou does anything to discourage such rumors, only grinning and agreeing every time someone mistakes you as a couple. hell, he was starting to get you confused, saying things during your training sessions that certainly didn’t fit the transactional nature of the act. “holy shit you’re so tight- love this pussy, l-love you so much. say my name. c’mon baby, say you love me and i’ll make you feel so fucking good.” and only because ryusei always makes good on his promises do you allow yourself another moment of weakness.

itoshi rin didn’t have much interest or faith in you upon first introduction. he sized you up as some nobody doing this whole manager thing as a fun extracurricular, so as long as you stayed out of his way he didn’t care what you did. with his luck, he shouldn’t be surprised that you were immediately in his way, extremely often, rambling to him about ideas and strategies that he had no intention on listening to. although even he could admit, he understood why the others were so easily charmed by you. he was wrong about how seriously you took your job. not that it changed anything. at least that’s what rin tells himself, but in reality your relentless efforts and endless dedication to supporting all of them was something that spoke to him, made him a bit soft for you. it didn’t help that you were his type in every sense of the word, your attractiveness doing nothing but make feigning indifference a lot harder for rin. your seemingly endless patience didn’t help either. you always responded in kind to all of rin’s harsh words and cold stares, never let his sour attitude deter your subtle acts of service like getting grass stains out of his uniform and making sure he stays unbothered during his yoga. against his will, he was slowly warming up to you, but you were still caught off guard when rin started cashing in his stars, even if it was just a meal. he had lots of them sitting idle on the chart waiting to be used, so you supposed it was only natural for him to get some free food out of it. but you were even more taken aback when a couple days later he requested a massage from you with insistence that he only asks because he’s been extremely tense as of late. which wasn’t entirely untrue. rin had been very tense. just not from anything soccer related like he’d like you to believe. he was tense from the stress of his budding feelings for you combined with the dread of knowing he probably will never have you all to himself. at least not with this stupid reward system in place.

he despises it. he absolutely hates going about his day knowing there are other guys, his shithead teammates, that are getting your time, attention, and affection for the price of a couple of stupid fucking stickers. he misses the days when shidou’s incessant bragging about how many times he was able to make you cum or bachira’s unnecessary details of what your pussy tastes like didn’t bother him. now his blood boils to hear them talk about you like that. that kind of anger makes it clear to him that being your friend was simply not an option anymore. which is how he settled on getting a massage from you. he would satisfy this overwhelming craving he has for you and go back to normal and be able to focus solely on becoming best in the world again without thoughts of you plaguing his mind. that was his hope going into it, but feeling your warm touch on his bare back, melting away years of untreated knots and neglected aches in his body, he could almost blush at the intimacy he feels. especially when that foreign kindness he loves so much is on display as you reassure him that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about and that you’re proud he finally put his pride aside long enough to let you help him. you’ve got him, hook, line, and sinker now. no use in struggling so hard, he supposes, as some part of him knows he’s doomed to fall sooner or later. perhaps it’s time to surrender. he fought a good fight, but his greed for you was candidly too tough of an opponent.

and to rin, surrender looked like asking you when’s the soonest he could book a private training session. you don’t think you could look any more shocked. rin had a quick turn around from someone you doubted even liked you, to someone reserving as much of your time as his stars could buy. the more often he was with you, the less time you spent giving those lukewarm brats the treatment he wants reserved for him. and he wishes he gave in a lot sooner when he feels the wet heat of your mouth around his cock for the first time. how fast he would’ve folded if he knew how pretty you would look on your knees for him. rin tried to be gentle and let you set the pace, but between hissing out curses and barely biting back moans, that same greed to get more from you has his hand twisting itself in your hair and pushing down on the back of your head. he couldn’t help it. and it was so worth it to watch you choke and sputter around his length but never pull away. he knew you weren’t a quitter. “shit, feels good… don’t stop,” he all but gasps, hips instinctively jumping to reach further down your throat, grip tightening when you try to come up for air. after a long moment of breathing through your nose you relax enough to let him ease himself the rest of the way in. rin sighs in relief when your nose finally presses against his pelvis. the way you look up at him starry-eyed and full of adoration made his chest feel heavy with desire to be the only one you ever look at. it drives him crazy that any guy on the team can see you like this, and that heartache has rin fucking your face to forget it. “fuckkk. don’t look away, eyes on me, g’nna cum in that pretty mouth.”

you couldn’t deny that your new attempt at encouraging the team had its kinks. while overall the amount of arguments that broke out between players lessened to keep on good star-earning behavior, you could tell that it came with its own set of tension creating problems. you also couldn’t deny that being pulled in every direction by men vying for your attention was both very time consuming and extremely gratifying, but you think you manage it well. save for when they were already pumped up with adrenaline from a game, that is when real issues arise. especially when a player from the enemy team thinks it’s a good idea to try and hit on the cute little lady holding the clipboard. fatal mistake.

it starts with your favorite pot stirrer, bachira, calling out from his position, making everyone else on the team aware of the situation. “no shot dude, she don’t want you! focus on losing!” you’re confident you can diffuse whatever is about to go down before you notice rin leaving the ball alone in centerfield to beeline straight towards you. threats are flying from his lips on approach, quick to get in the guy’s face, planting his hands on his shoulders to shove him back. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing? i’ll kill you if you don’t get the fuck away from her.” you think maybe you have a shot of getting rin under control if you just- your eyes widen in horror as a flash moves in from your peripheral. there are no words, just shidou drop kicking this poor stranger at top speed. you cringe as you watch shidou knocks this guy off his feet, cleats first, taking rin down with him. what a way to earn a red card.

this was a fun project and request tysm!!! i just went about it in the interpretation i found most interesting, i really hope it was to your liking!!!

#divider credit to @cafekitsune #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk smut #blue lock #bllk #isagi yoichi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi smut #isagi yoichi smut #bachira x reader #bachira meguru x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryuusei smut #shidou smut #chigiri x reader #kunigami x reader #miwa sins

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graciebarracolumbus · 1 year

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Gracie Barra Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Martial Arts in Columbus, GA

Gracie Barra is the most famous martial art. They have established themselves as a pioneer in the Columbus martial arts scene thanks to their devotion, values, dedication, and expertise in Jiu-Jitsu. Gracie Barra is not a normal martial arts organisation. Here there are over 700 students and all are provided with the best training and practice in martial arts

More and more people are turning to martial arts classes for their workout and fitness regimen since the popularity of martial arts gained attention in the media. Our programs in Jiu-Jitsu Columbus GA provide all the benefits and training of martial arts and Jiu-Jitsu Columbus GA will help you or your child improve their flexibility, confidence, physical strength, and self-discipline. Gracie Barra Brazilian Academy in Columbus will take pride in the Martial Arts programs and teach you and provide you with one year of experience in each area.

Here are some of the benefits you can get from Gracie Barra Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Martial Arts in Columbus, GA

Gracie Barra Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is a truly intriguing way to get fit

Jiu-Jitsu often resembles a chess game. If you are tired of working with a guy because you don't have any friends to accompany you. Then Jiu-Jitsu is the best for you because it needs a high level of concentration for the number of calories burned and weight loss. By this, you can achieve your goal easily.

Gracie Barra Brazilian people are committed to progress in learning

The people at Gracie Barra Brazilian school are what they are, and you can soon be one of our members. The best part is that every team member is committed to learning and practising new skills. The staff, instructors, and other students make the environment friendly, but it is still challenging and demanding which stimulates most people to achieve their best.

The renowned Gracie Barra structure makes individuals journey in learning enjoyable and smooth

A defining characteristic of all Gracie Barra Brazilian Schools is the class system.Classes start on time and stick to standardised rules and agreements and class structure. As a student, an individual knows up front what is expected of him and has a clear understanding of what to expect from training and instructors partners. The framework of this structure, combined with the unique creativity and innovation of devoted instructors, blend perfectly to facilitate the progress of martial arts.

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seiwas · 3 months

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if art can be touched, will you let me hold you? | nanami kento

wc: 7.2k

summary: you press love into each piece of art you create, and nanami wonders if you’ve ever been loved that way.

contains: f!reader, non-curse!au, ceramic artist!reader, pov switching, slowburn, reader wears a skirt, food mentions, bad breakup (mentioned), mentions of art critiques, almost explicit sex, it’s love without words.

a/n: a concept and fic i didn’t expect would be so dear to me; there are some very small personal touches in this but the main inspiration for this is ‘we’ve been loving in silence’, but some bgm are ‘can’t take my eyes off you’, and ‘make you feel my love’.

ao3 (needs account)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: showing ‘i love you’ in all the ways you aren’t used to

CLAY. Take your material of choice; turn it over, get a feel of it. Is it a suitable medium for your art?

You first meet Nanami in the halls of an echoing applause.

The host’s spiel is muffled through the walls, but you know the program flow like the back of your hand—you’ve rehearsed your entrance every single day since being invited to announce your upcoming exhibit. In just a few minutes, your name will be called.

Yellow cue cards slip through your fingers, scattering to the floor as a result of the haste from your last minute touch-up just moments before.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, checking the time.

As you crouch low, a pair of brown Derby shoes land in front of you—long and thick fingers reaching for your cue cards on the floor. The time on his wrist matches yours, each second highlighted in the stark contrast of a dark face and silver exterior.

You’re quick to receive his help, taking the cards into your hands as you lightly graze his fingertips. When you look up, you’re met with sharp lines—an angular jaw, eyebrows set straight; a pointed nose and his cheeks carving out hollow shadows.

A geometric study on blank canvas.

It’s embarrassing, the way you fluster and bow, thanking him with a stutter as you’re brought back to the urgency of the matter by the sound of your name being called out.

The rush to the conference hall has you breathing heavily, the nerves hitting you full force as you step up the stage, nearly tripping at the last step. Hues of blue, yellow, purple, and green lights glare at you, and when the host hands you the microphone, you chuckle nervously, clearing your throat before addressing everyone in the room to thank them for coming this afternoon.

Your exhibit is called ‘What is the Face of an (Un)Touched Soul?’—a collection of ceramic sculptures molded to the realism of a human face, with the soul imagined as varying patterns and colors that fit each featured individual.

It’s been half a year since you started, with three out of six sculptures completed already. Two are in-progress, and you have yet to find a subject for one more; there are six more months for you to complete everything.

The audience sounds their applause, sophisticated claps and nods a familiar tune in the many years of your sculpting career. Critics in the room jot down their thoughts, reporters holding up microphones and recording devices to cover your announcement.

You smile wide, the rehearsed kind.

And at the end of your presentation, stepping down the stage, you spot him again.

You think to approach him in that moment, to thank him properly instead of the fumbling mess you’d choked out in the hallway—but you’re pulled towards a crowd of reporters and critics, recording devices pushed just below your chin as you watch him disappear into a sea of faces not nearly as interesting as his.

You meet Nanami again in the bustling morning rush at the bakery near your studio.

The past few weeks have been head-down and tedious, late nights working on painting some of the last few pieces for your exhibit. One of them is of your niece, 5-years-old in mint and white innocence; your brushstrokes are featherlight, softly accentuated by sponge dabs—a slate barely filled in, with room for more colors to appear with time.

Another is of your neighbor, an old man whose eyes have seen war beyond your comprehension—a retired soldier, a veteran of the military force. He plants primroses by his windowsill, the pastel yellow a stark contrast to the life he’s lived in red; neither of the colors cancel each other out, neither of them blend. You drag harsh strokes against his jawbone while smoothly gliding watercolor across his eyelids.

The people in your sculptures have sparked an untapped curiosity within you—for stories, for lives, for souls and what those might look like.

You bump into Nanami on his way out, the sandwich in his hand falling to the ground as you frantically attempt to pick it up.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” you turn over the sandwich, checking for any holes or openings in its packaging, “Let me–”

It only registers that it’s him when you notice the same brown Derby shoes, the same watch with that dark face and silver exterior, the same geometric perfection on his face when you look up and finally come eye-to-eye with that same fixed stare.

You clear your throat. Well, this is embarrassing.

“Let me buy you another sandwich.”

He doesn’t exactly look angry, expression set in straight lines, but you can’t tell for sure—there isn’t much you can go by.

“There’s no need,” he dusts off the wrapper, “it’s still sealed.”

“Please, I insist,” you pat down your skirt, linen rough on your fingertips, “As a thank you too, for last time.”

He arches a brow, and for a moment you worry that you’ve remembered him wrong—honey blonde hair and features you’ve been intrigued by since.

“You insist.” he repeats, clarifying more than questioning.

You nod.

He sighs, checking his watch before pocketing his sandwich and turning back to open the bakery doors.

The silence in line to the counter is awkward. Nanami remains impassive, hand tucked inside his pocket—you can’t read a single thing about him.

“I was meaning to thank you after the exhibit announcement,” you start, turning slightly to face him before looking ahead again.

He hums.

“But I couldn’t find you, so…”

He hums again.

The lack of response makes you nervous and quite honestly a bit irritated. Here you are, trying to be nice, and all you’re met with are dry—

“It’s no problem, but that’s thoughtful of you, thank you.” he finally says, “I didn’t expect you to remember.”

A pause.

“I’m sure you meet a lot of faces in your line of work.” he further clarifies, in case his earlier remark had offended you.

You snort, “I wish.”

The line moves forward.

“Ceramic faces, maybe. People not so much.”

When you glance at Nanami, the look he returns is still characteristically inscrutable, but you think the corners of his eyes soften just a bit—to feel for you maybe, you hope, you think.

The line moves quickly after that, and next thing you know it, you’re by the cashier, pointing at one sandwich for you and another for him. You buy him a cup of coffee too, just as an extra kind gesture (—for his time; you’re sure he has places to be and people to see), but he stops you.

“Coffee’s on me.” he pulls out his card.

“Oh,” you look up, surprised, “you don’t have to do that—”

“It’s only fair,” he nods as the cashier punches in the order, “now we’re even.”

You attempt to rebut, but find no room for argument in the unbending weight of his gaze.

An interesting man.

You watch him stand by the claiming booth, hand in the pocket of his khaki suit. Nothing about him feels cohesive, yet he makes it work. Artistically, from a sculpting standpoint, the sharp lines on his face would be an interesting challenge—but beautiful, nonetheless. A study of near-perfection, you think.

And it would seem obvious, that from the rigid cut of his jaw and the sharp edges of his cheekbones that he’d act just as pointed.

Except, he doesn’t—a stark contrast to how much of a gentleman he seems to be.

His blue shirt stands out when you’d assume he prefers subtlety, and it’s ridiculous, but that yellow cow print tie feels simultaneously out of place but so fitting.

He walks toward you with your coffee, sandwich resting on his forearm.

“Thank you, Mr.—” you smile sheepishly, “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.”

“Nanami Kento.” the corners of his lips lift slightly.

“Mr. Nanami,” you repeat, introducing yourself right after.

“Thank you as well.” he adds on as you both walk towards the doors.

Something tells you this is a missed opportunity. Something tells you there’s more to learn about this interesting man and what lies beneath his straight-faced sincerity.

The chatter from the bakery is replaced by the city’s breaths—cars passing, dogs barking, footsteps on pavement rushing to get to their next destination. And you and Nanami stand by the entrance, neither knowing how to say bye.

“Do you come to this–”

“My studio is just by the corner, so–”

You quickly look at each other. Nanami bows his head slightly, hand gesturing for you to go first.

“Sorry, um,” you tuck your sandwich in the crook of your elbow, “yes, I come here pretty often. My studio is just around the corner, so I drop by for quick meals when I can. You?”

“It’s on the way to work most days.”

You nod, humming.

Another awkward pause.

“I hope you–”

“I should get–”

You look at each other again, a bit more amused this time. The slight wrinkling of his eyes is impossible to hide.

He gestures for you to go first again, but you shake your head, offering him instead.

“I hope the pieces for your exhibit are going well.”

“Thank you,” you smile, bowing your head slightly.

That ‘something’ in your brain speaks to you again.

“Actually,” you begin, “sorry if this is weird, please feel free to decline, but,” you shift your weight, “I have one last piece to do and I was wondering if I could ask you.”

Nanami looks taken aback for a moment, eyes wider than normal as he processes what you’d just said.

“Ask me… for an opinion?” he clarifies.

You mentally facepalm yourself—you really should have made yourself clearer.

“Sorry, no, I meant,” you take a deep breath, fingers fiddling with your skirt, “if you’d like to be the subject for it.”

The expression on his face is as indecipherable as ever.

MOLD. Be familiar with your art, learn more of its intricacies. What will you shape it to be?

In the most unexpected play of events, Nanami says yes, but not without his hesitations.

You explain your process: the selection of a subject, an interview to get to know them better, then a few meetings at the studio to create the mold of facial features before coating it in plaster.

Never in his entire law career did Nanami ever think he would be into art, much more be chosen to be the subject for it. But he figures, if anyone were to get him to do things so wholly out of character like this, it would be you.

After all, he’s been a fan of your works for a while—from your third exhibit up to your seventh one now.

People love paintings and the strokes on canvas, admiring textures and blends of colors bleeding into one another; Nanami loves sculptures, a mixture of materials and techniques forming an object with more than one viewing plane.

“Have you always loved sculpting?” he asks, sitting still on the wooden stool in your studio.

A few meetings have gone by by now, and he’s told you a few things about himself for this to be a comfortable enough way to spend his Friday night: he’s a lawyer in a firm he’s co-founded with a good friend, evenings being the only free time in his schedule; he lives alone in a two-bedroom apartment and his neighbor’s cat often lands on his balcony every morning; he likes coffee and tea, paperback books and music from the 30’s and 60’s.

He chose to be a lawyer to correct the shitty system that’s vowed to help but has instead made it difficult for anyone genuinely trying to be good.

“I started with paper craft first,” you mold out the slope of his nose, looking back and forth between him and the mass of clay on your desk, “you know that 3D looking paper art that kinda pops out of the page?”

He hums instead, careful of any slight movement that may disrupt the pose you’re trying to replicate.

“And this?”

Your metal scraper drags on the sides of the sculpture’s nose, sharpening it as it narrows to the bridge.

“I picked it up in college, was an outlet to keep me company during that time.”

The PR answer.

Nanami knows most of your general story; pamphlets and exhibits always give a run-down of the artists’ individual histories. You’d started sculpting as soon as you entered college, a need for company while in a completely unfamiliar place with no more home to return to. It was all or nothing, and as the sculptures grew in number, so did your popularity—you are by no means a fresh name to the scene 10 years later.

“Why do you love it?” he looks you in the eye.

You pause, holding his gaze for a few seconds before looking away, focusing on the chunk of wet clay between your fingertips as it turns more pliable.

“It’s gotten me through a lot.” you sigh, attaching the piece of clay to form his lips, “Touching clay feels therapeutic sometimes, and you can tell from how it looks if it’s been molded with love.”

The stillness in your studio is extra quiet, filled only with the faint sounds of your fingertips sticking onto clay; he doesn’t quite know what to say.

“Sorry, that was cheesy.” you scrunch your nose and pout.

He chuckles, a low laugh, “Not at all.”

You lock eyes, the curve of your lips upturned. He feels his eyes soften around its edges.

It makes sense, and he thinks he can understand; there must be a reason why he loves books with creased spines, why he prefers weathered pages—why the scratches on his vinyl records don’t bother him as much as it should.

You both like your coffee without milk, just with a bit of sugar for yours.

Nanami’s taken up baking, specifically breadmaking, in his spare time—he brings you sourdough the next Friday you meet.

Your studio is an organized mess, scraps of clay decorating the otherwise bare and white space. To the left of the room is a large cork board filled with pinned sketches and some color swatches—a visual representation of the creative chaos in your mind.

A whiteboard to its right holds your schedule, and everywhere across the room are your art pieces—on shelves, in glass cases. He assumes most of them are the versions that didn’t make it, considering that the ones that have are either auctioned off or left as collector’s pieces in exhibits and art museums.

“That’s the first one I ever made.” you sneak up behind him, biting off the sandwich you hastily put together.

The sculpture is smaller than the busts you’ve made for your current exhibit, but it still occupies a third of your shelf. It’s unlike any of the works you’ve ever done, but he supposes it makes sense, given how much your style has probably evolved over time.

The piece is a lot simpler in comparison to the edgy twists most of your works now contain, but the little girl fast asleep in the sculpture begs questions he’s not sure how to ask you—if he even should.

He continues to stare, clearing his throat; you eye him knowingly and snort.

“Just ask, I know you want to.”

The texture of the carved blanket catches his eyes, the ripples and creases made to conform to the girl’s curled up figure. There’s a sadness underlying her comfort, a search for security while being wrapped in a bundle of safety.

“Who is it?” he asks.

You pause before you answer; he’s worried he’s crossed a line.

“Me.” you admit, a near-whisper.

He hums, back still faced towards you. It explains, then, why he’s always felt an underlying sadness beneath the creases of your smiles.

When he turns his face to the side, an attempt to catch your eyes, you look away, diverting.

“Which one introduced you to me?” you gesture towards the rest of your pieces.

As it’s come to be, Nanami’s learned that you’re good at that too—creating curves of deflections, pockets where you can hide when you feel something’s gotten too close.

He plays along, turning around to view the expanse of your studio; it’s amazing, how the art pieces that stack shelf upon shelf all boil down to your hard work. You briefly mentioned that you haven’t taken a break from creating because you still don’t believe you deserve it.

“It’s not here,” he puts his hands in his pockets, “the one with the hand clutching a heart.”

‘Unhand’—his favorite piece of yours; he’d seen it in one of the museums he had to visit for one of his clients. Hyperrealistic branches of veins and arteries running across an anatomical heart, every curve and indent a carefully placed texture to bring your piece to life. It comes clenched in a hand, the veins streaming across each finger while blending into those of the heart’s—at first glance, it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other starts.

It’s a different view from each angle—that’s why he likes it so much, along with the graphic nature of it. The pain feels vivid, real.

“Ah,” you run your fingers across your work table, fiddling with the small pieces of clay before taking a seat again, “that one.”

Nanami follows but he doesn’t say anything, resuming his place in front of you in the usual way he’s done the past few weeks.

“I didn’t think I was the type to be moved by art.” he confesses, sitting still as you continue the final work on the clay wisps of his hair.

You encourage him to go on, nodding along.

And he does, watching the way your steady hand forms features that look uncannily like him, if not better; strands of your hair always fall from behind your ears and he’s almost tempted to tuck it back to where it came from.

He tells you of the pain he feels from that piece, how it presents itself in different ways depending on the area you focus on—the constricted blood vessels, the buildup of pressure from a vein blocked by a thumb, the strain of muscles at the back of the hand.

A small smile makes its way onto your face, slightly sad but somehow relieved, “Didn’t expect you to be such a poet.”

“Must be from being around you so often,” he responds.

And if it’s a trick of the light, a part of him sinks at that possibility—he thinks your smile stretches wider, suppressed only by the shyness trying to hide it; no pain whatsoever.

Unexpectedly, you share with him the story. Not the filtered version, but the one just as raw and vivid as the sculpture made from it—a failed relationship that had you clinging onto sculpting as your lifeline. You spare him some of the gruesome details but hint at it enough that he can fill in the gaps on his own.

You tell him that you’re a people pleaser, you’ve learned—it’s the only way you can view that relationship with grace, that at least you understand yourself better because of it. That even when the grip on your heart wrung tight enough for each beat to hurt, you still clung on with all your worth.

(Now you know you shouldn’t have.)

People have come to you with stories of their own, sharing how much your art means to them. Critics write articles, both good and bad, detailing the technicalities of your work. The applause follows you everywhere you go, yet it has never touched you—has never gotten too close.

If your art has touched others, has listened and spoken their truth in your handiwork, who does that for you?

During one of the last few Friday meetings, you offer to teach him how to mold clay.

He looks at you curiously, watching the way your fingertips pinch and squeeze, how they glide to smoothen the material and press down to create indents on the surface.

“Do you want to try?” you ask, gaze still set on his sculpture in front of you. There’s a teasing edge to your tone, one that’s developed over the months of getting to know you more.

“Would that be troublesome?”

You laugh at his rigidness.

“Of course not.” you push your piece aside, standing up to gather clay from the mound of it to your right. You lay down a wooden platform for him–his own little workspace–and slam a chunk of clay atop it, “I think you might be good at it actually, since you like making bread.”

The movements are familiar but not entirely the same. He rolls up his sleeves, blue cotton pinching at the creases of his elbows; you hand him an apron to protect the rest of his clothing. There’s not much kneading involved, not much palm action too, but he learns to move his fingertips with a force he can only compare to creating little dimples into focaccia dough.

You teach him how to make a bread basket—something practical but beginner-friendly; something he can use and keep as a reminder of you.

The trickiest part of it is mimicking the rattan weavings, and you notice him struggling with it when his strips of clay begin to break.

A screech fills the room as you push back your chair, standing up to go behind him as he attempts to salvage his work.

“Here, let me–” you reach over his shoulders, flattening some of the cracks from above him.

You’ve never been this close before, the thin strands of hair dusting your arms tickling the sides of his ears. These past few months, he’s watched your hands press and pull and form, turning each detail of his face into art. It’s only now, right next to his larger and rougher ones that he’s noticing just how small and delicate yours are.

It’s dainty work, weaving and braiding. He attempts to do it again, but the clay only falls apart when he pulls too hard.

You stifle a giggle, the vibrations tickling his back, “We might take a while here.”

“I don’t mind.” he mumbles.

“You sure you don’t have anywhere else you’d rather be?” you lean forward, pressing closer until he feels your warmth against the back of his head, “I feel bad, I’ve been taking up most of your Friday nights already.”

It shouldn’t mean anything; he shouldn’t feel anything—you seem to be unfazed; art is meant to be taught by doing.

But then your hands go over his, guiding them to lift each strand of clay gently before interweaving them with one another, and he thinks—

—this must be what it feels to be touched by art.

So, no.

There’s no other place he’d rather be.

DRY. Give it time, let it settle. Watch your art come into form. Is this a good foundation?

“Will you be free next weekend?”

His question surprises you as you stand in line at the bakery. You tend to catch each other at just the right times almost everyday, saving a spot for whoever’s running a little late.

Today, it’s you, rushing in slightly frazzled with your hair sticking out which way; you’d just finished up molding the sculpture late last night, letting it rest out to dry. Nanami’s head is turned towards you, hands in his pockets as he directs the same pointed gaze you’ve become all too accustomed to.

You must have forgotten to mention it.

“Oh,” you turn to him, “there’s no need, our sessions are over.”

His silence makes you nervous, just like it did the first (second) time you met.

Did you upset him? Did he already cancel plans to free up time for your studio?

The entire trip to the cashier is quiet, but you find that he’s ordered ahead for you—your sandwich order and a cup of your usual coffee. He pays for it too, despite your refusal (and confusion).

It’s when he hands over your drink by the corner of the room that he finally speaks.

“Not for a session.”

You tilt your head curiously.

The coffee feels warm on your hand, and you think you see the same warmth at the tips of his ears, dusting it light pink. He coughs, fingers clenching around his tie before loosening it.

“For a date.”

You begin to take up his weekends now, too.

Since that day at the bakery, when you’d nearly dropped your coffee before stuttering out your availability, you’ve already gone on seven dates (to you, at least; Nanami would officially count three).

He insists on still visiting you every Friday, bringing you dinner as a reminder that you should eat on time and not the moment you’re keeling over from a rumbling stomach and a pounding headache. You count these as dates too—because what else do you call spending time with someone you like while having night-long conversations over good food?

(Nanami creates a distinction though, prefers his dates to be more planned out and intended. On the three official dates you’ve gone on, he’s brought you to three different locations—a weekend market, a picnic by a lake after you’d mentioned something about it, and a vintage record shop on the outskirts of the city, a place he frequents often).

The near-perfection you once thought of the man, a geometric study on canvas—he’s still every bit of it, still every bit as interesting as what he seemed, just in a completely different way.

For a man typically so nonchalant, he is extremely particular about his tastes, borderline picky with trusted company.

Nanami enjoys coffee (as expected), but the fermented filter kind, dripped down a V60 pour over to extract different notes of sweetness and acidity. You’d think he enjoys a straight black, face stoic enough to handle its bitter bite; but no, his jaw clenches when he dislikes the taste, his tongue sounding the faintest click against the roof of his mouth before he downs the entire thing in one gulp.

He also happens to be extremely gentle, in a way you don’t expect from a man of his stature and build. Veins run through the back of his large hands, branching to webs around the thickness of his fingers; they may not be delicate enough to weave clay, but he carves out different patterns on the sourdough he presents to you every Friday.

The first time he held your hand, it wasn’t exactly planned—an instinctive move to reach out his palm as you climbed the steps of the spiral staircase in the record store out of town. You’d barely felt it then, just the featherlight hold of his thumb pressed against your knuckles as you gripped the fabric of your skirt.

(To your surprise, he kept it up all the way through, slipping his fingers through the gaps between yours as he showed you around vintage vinyls and the sound of love in muffled 60’s tunes.)

You imagine him to be like clay, a softness hardened over the years that have shaped him; smooth but solid to the touch, breaking into powdered shards once you manage to work your way through.

It’s unexpected, but you like that.

And you like him—quite a lot, really.

This date–the tenth, or fourth, whichever–is a lot fancier than all the others, a more formal dinner with a few glasses of delicious wine whose name you by god, don’t remember. You’d been too focused on something else—the handsome way he’d slicked back strands of his honeyed hair.

Black suits him, contrasting the paleness of his skin and complementing the sharpness of his features.

Black, the color of his suit, pressed neatly to fit him perfectly. He looks clean, broad shoulders with straight slacks falling to exactly where they’re supposed to be.

Black, which is the only thing you see, pressed up against him. You’re so close by your doorway, that half-minute of deciding whether to stay or walk away; he has one foot behind him and one firmly planted right next to yours.

You share a breath, fingers lightly intertwined with his.

There had been signs the entire night that it would lead to something like this—he’d played with your fingers a lot more, kept much closer to you than he ever has before.

Every sound around you is amplified—each inhale and exhale, the gulp he makes; your heart beats on rampage.

When you look up, your noses are almost touching, and his eyes are shut, the crease between his eyebrows deepening.

It’s a look you’ve only seen once before, when he’s stuck contemplating.

“Kento,” you whisper.

His eyes blink open slightly, the color of your coffee. He leans forward, forehead resting against yours as he takes a deep breath, “I–”

Then you kiss him.

It’s mostly a peck really, and wholly out of character for you, but it’s that same something that compelled you to ask him to model for your sculpture months ago that’s pushed you to do this right now.

You’re worried for that first split-second because he doesn’t move, shows no sign at all of reciprocating. It’s a moment before you consider parting that he finally softens, relaxing his lips as he glides them over yours. His fingers slot themselves by your ear, palm pressed against your jaw as he deepens it; you almost stumble back, his other hand catching your weight as it leans on your door.

It’s a good thing you did this then, because you learn that he likes you too—very much, actually.

Things are good a month until your exhibit.

Things are good until they aren’t.

You end up reading a premature critique on your exhibit, calling it ‘overrated’ and ‘boring’, detailing the trajectory of your decline as an artist, citing your works as having become increasingly more lackluster over the years.

The critic calls your theme ‘lazy’ and ‘unoriginal’, predicting your pieces to be nothing extraordinary or different from your older sculptures.

All this time, your publicist and manager have made it a point to protect you from things like this, requesting that you avoid searching up your name on social media or search engines. You’re usually fed with praises and the occasional constructive criticism, but never anything as spiteful as this.

It’s every possible thing that could be said to invalidate your hard work.

And you break because of it—along with Nanami’s sculpture.

It tips over accidentally, the funk in your mood making you especially clumsy.

The damage is terrible, half of his face is gone, his neck down still intact but chipped off. It’s impossible to repair without redoing the entire thing—which, you don’t have the time for, either.

You groan, banging your head against the table.

Frustration leaks out in your tears, every inch of self-doubt surfacing.

Nanami finds you in your studio that way.

He’d texted you the entire day, tried calling you a few times to no success. It’s a Thursday, but without your usual ‘just got home’ text, he’d gotten worried and rushed over as soon as his meeting ended.

If he’s being honest, you’ve been off this entire week—stressed and distant, overworked from revisiting all your finished sculptures for the exhibit in case of anything to change or tweak.

Then this.

And it’s too much—it’s all too much.

Nanami calls your name from your entryway and you look up with tears streaming down your face. He’s never seen you like this, you could never want him to.

He hurries over, brows immediately furrowed as he digs into his pocket for a handkerchief. The cow print would make you giggle on any other day, but now, he uses it to wipe your tears away.

“What happened?” his gaze shifts to your right, his sculpture half-ruined.

Silence.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asks hesitantly.

You shake your head, swiping at your nose, “It won’t look the same, Ken.”

“Do you want to redo it? I can clear up my schedule every–”

“There’s no time.”

Nanami takes your hands to rub his thumbs over your knuckles, soothing.

“Then we’ll do what we can.”

The sincerity in his voice hurts you, the reassurance in his eyes even moreso. You’ve never had anyone look at you this way.

“There’s no point.” your shoulders slump, lips trembling as another wave of tears pool on your lash line. “People are calling the exhibit a flop.”

“Who?”

You huff out, exhausted, “I don’t know, critics, media. Whoever.”

He furrows his brows, firm, “They don’t understand what you’re doing.”

You chuckle sarcastically, “They’re art critics, Ken, of course they–”

“If it means something to you, what does it matter to anyone else?”

That makes you look up.

Nanami stares at you with the same unwavering gaze, no longer indecipherable to you. There’s a softness in the squint of his eyes that you now know means concern, with every pointed feature only meant to drive his words home.

You’ve been second guessing everything down to the core of your abilities, because of what? A few words? This must be what you get for having a penchant to people please, for hinging on everything everyone has to say.

“If you love what you create, then continue to make it.” he squeezes your hands, as if pressing the words into your bones gently.

You remold and repair, and you build up your sculpture to something different but not worse than before.

You remold and repair to build up yourself.

The half that broke off isn’t as symmetrical as you’d like it to be—and it definitely doesn’t do justice to the man it’s sculpted of, but you think you like the softness you added to it, how his eyes look kinder. He means something else to you now, after all, compared to when you first started sculpting him.

And you think, you know just what kind of design speaks of his soul.

PAINT. Add the final touches, perfect your piece. Bring it to life with colors and details, whether it be for one pair of eyes or many. Do you now see?

Nanami teaches you how to make bread on a Sunday morning.

Flour coats every surface of his counter, dustings of it transferred to the deep blue of his apron. You’re wearing a white one, borrowed from your studio. Elbow-to-elbow you knead, and he only has to teach you once for you to get the hang of it, really.

He smirks, “You’re a natural.”

“Must do stuff like this a lot in another life or something,” you stifle a giggle, playing along.

It’s a beautiful day out, golden sunlight hitting your cheek—Nanami stares, sneaks peeks between every knead. The same strands of hair tucked behind your ear fall to frame your face, and he hooks his pinky around it to tuck it right back (because he can now, without having to hesitate).

You turn to him, daylight in your eyes when you grin your thanks.

His kitchen has an open space, deep wood and black metal detailings as its central theme (the white bread bread basket you made together stands out on the counter, but he’s done that on purpose). There’s a pretty extensive collection of alcohol in his liquor cabinet, along with his very particular coffee set-up right next to his record player slotted in the corner.

On Sunday mornings, Nanami likes to keep his music playing; today, it’s the classic 60’s–’Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’–serving as your background beat, with the soft meows from the cat on his balcony as added accompaniment to the melody.

He watches you sway, his feet tapping along, then you jolt, giggling in surprise when there’s a hiccup in the song (it’s from the scratches on his record, but he can’t bother replacing it with a new one). After that breakdown in your studio, you’ve seemed to loosen up immensely.

“Ken,” you call him, “how much pressure do you usually put into kneading?”

There’s no way to explain it, really, but to make you feel it yourself.

“Let me–” he lets go of his dough, dusting his hands with more flour before coming up behind you.

Nanami is a big man, tall and lean, all chest and shoulders—when he hunches over you, you look so small, delicately tucked into him. Heat rushes to his cheeks, if you turn around you’d see pink; the music is drowned out by his heartbeat.

He leans forward, palms clasping over the back of your hands, fingers slotting themselves between the gaps of yours.

“Like this,” he pushes down, his chest pressed against your back. To get a better look at the dough, he tilts his head to the side, nearly slotting it by your shoulder, “Can you feel it?”

You hum, your swaying gone. He’s trying hard to focus on the bread, but when you turn your head to face him, the tip of your nose touching his cheek, he stops.

The moment is tense, drowned into silence despite the music playing in the background. He can hear your every breath.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Nanami knows it’s for many things—for agreeing to the sculpture, for spending time on it; for this Sunday morning, for being there when you needed someone the most. But that’s not the whole point of this, he thinks. It’s how you sound, voice heartfelt and filled with something else—a kind of affection he’s all too familiar with himself.

This must be what you mean when you say you can tell if clay has been molded with love.

In the quiet, Nanami’s hands move loudly.

He holds you gently, just like he always has, but it’s a permission every time—like he’s asking if he can touch you, love you in ways you aren't used to.

Your apron falls to the floor, followed by your skirt, the fabric pooling by your feet. The faded gray t-shirt you wear during studio days is tugged over your head, dropped next to him. He takes his time with you, turning you over, feeling you, knowing you—thick fingers squeezing the sides of your arms lightly as his lips press against your neck.

A gasp escapes you.

Then you move, nimble hands undoing the buttons of his shirt, pushing it open as you feel across the planes of taut muscle on his stomach and chest.

He groans, soft and low, your fingers brushing against his skin, ticklish.

You take a step back and he moves along with you, letting you settle into yourself as you inch backwards, the back of your knees knocking against the edge of your bed. He holds your gaze as you move towards your headrest, your shy smile doing nothing to lessen the butterflies in his chest—you did mention that it’s been a while.

He kneels on your bed, the mattress dipping to accommodate his weight—his slacks have been discarded to the side as he crawls over you.

Beneath him, you look like the very subject art could only wish to replicate.

So, he makes sure to remember all of it—to look close and memorize every detail of you as he dips down, arm planted to the side of your head as his other hand cradles your face, tilting your jaw up for a kiss.

He catches your lower lip between his, running his tongue over it before sucking lightly. You moan, smooth and honey-sweet, bringing him closer with your fingers clasped behind his neck. The room is quiet save for your lips smacking against each other’s, warm and soft as the heat builds between you.

Slowly and tenderly, with the same care you tend to clay, Nanami discovers all your dips and curves; he kneads the flesh of your hips, gripping your thighs as he kisses his way down the slopes of your body.

You squirm in his hold, tugging at his hair when the sensation feels too much, too good.

(But when he reaches between your legs, arms locking your thighs over his shoulders, you realize, nothing could have ever prepared you for this, for him—he treats you as if you are every bit of the art you make, and looks at you like it too.)

Then, Nanami kisses you on the forehead when he’s inside you, lips pressing on the part of your skin that creases when your brow furrows.

A tear drips down your face.

“Should I–” he looks you in the eye, worried.

“No,” you breathe out, a watery smile as you nudge your nose against his chin, “keep going.”

So, he does; he loves you without the applause, with the feel of his hands, leaving no place untouched.

He moves his body against yours.

It’s only after, when he tucks himself into your neck, arms wrapped around you and skin sticking onto skin that you tell him your tears aren’t anything bad.

For the first time in a while, you feel full—perfectly content.

He thinks you should be the final piece to your exhibit.

It’s a grand event, the conference hall decked in some of your previous works; blankets of white cloth drape over the stage—the unveiling of all your sculptures. You’re standing to the side, looking pretty in a long white skirt while Nanami blends among the crowd, far back enough to remain hidden from reporters but close enough to catch your eyes should you look his way.

You present each one, introducing the titles with brief descriptions of the people they’re sculpted from. The reasons for your designs are left primarily up to interpretation, but you’ve explained it all to Nanami—he’s listened to every single one.

Then you present his sculpture, finding him through the crowd. The corner of your lips curl up slightly, the stage lights reflecting on your eyes.

He smiles at you the same.

‘The Undoing’ is what you call it—half-perfect and half-salvaged.

It’s far from your original vision for the piece, but you think you like this more, splitting down the part that’d originally broken off into two different colors. His entire color scheme consists of yellows, greens, and browns—the perfected side of his face appears in clean strokes of coffee, with light yellows highlighting his pointed features. The angles are clean and sharp, his gaze straight and dead-on.

Running down the cracks of the broken half is a sky blue line, an almost glowing effect added to the salvaged side. In a way, it’s an emergence, of the part of him you never thought existed—green wisps like leaves, a life springing from within. You add flecks of gold to mimic light bouncing off his irises the same way sand becomes a glittering sea of sunbeams.

To you, Nanami is warm but cold to the touch, and he’s undone you just as much, has chipped away at the parts of you that have built themselves over years of habits reinforced and untouched.

It is as much you as it is him.

That’s what happens when you love someone, he supposes—an intermingling of souls.

Kraft paper crinkles in his grip as he adjusts the bouquet of flowers behind him, deep red carnations and orange tulips decorated with white astilbe flowers—for when you get down, and he can have a moment with you privately.

Now, he looks at you fondly, shifting his feet from where he’s standing. You search for his face, eyes darting to where you know you’ll find him; he meets your gaze, and you smile brighter, that one look ringing louder than the standing roars of an echoing applause.

a/n: each segment represents the steps to making a sculpture that i tried to parallel with the development of their relationship. V60 pour over is a kind of set-up for drip/filter coffee.

thank you notes: for @mididoodles, this is my very late birthday gift for you midi, but i hope you like it! (this also so happens to be your request for my in's and out's event) 🥺 + @soumies @scarabrat for reading through the first third of this and believing in the vision for this when i was so unsure of it, i love you both 🥺 + @stellamancer for helping me figure out what goes in the 'contains' 😭 + @augustinewrites to scratch the nanami itch 🥺

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento x reader #nanami x yn #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #nanami kento x yn #nanami kento x you #shotorus.writes #shotorus.events #in's and out's event

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mourning-again-in-america · 2 years

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But code is immediately and infinitely replicable; a team of six coders can make an app that 1,000 people use or that 100,000,000 people use, and while the server costs might go up in the latter instance, the labor costs are exactly the same.

i love it when non-coders try talking about the labor market for programmers

#it's *weird* cuz like most of the grads are probably just going to webdev or java schools #and that's exactly the sort of thing it's easy to do it dumb and have both relatively high labor costs as well as capital costs #but the whole point about programming is that it teaches you a skill that allows individuals to significantly increase their own productivi #i use a pretty barebones setup and am still very helped by ghcide hlint ripgrep etc.#now there's a lot of work that needs to be done to make a producitivty improovement *useful* to more than 1 person #but if it's that much better than the competition + you can make it 'production-ready'...#but most javaschool grads probably aren't going to even think like that #anyways thsi doesn't even capture the most egregious thing #code is easy to scale up when you're scaling against the EXACT SAME USE CASE #now a lot of work has been put in to making distinctions turn into distinctions without a difference #but the devops work required to make a non-production ready tool fit your use case is pretty high!#(and also people often do it in ways that will shoot themselves in the foot)

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skewedcanvas · 3 months

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Here are some blank background templates for a Kirby Star Allies style pause screen for both playable/ally characters and bosses. This should have all the individual parts needed to construct your own lore pause screens.

First is the base template. There are two versions: one for bosses and one for playable/ally characters. There isn't much of a difference besides an extra menu option and a different style for the title.

The following is how I constructed the text for the character titles. I use Clip Studio Paint; however, hopefully the settings may help you for whatever program you are using.

Next up is the "Title Line". I didn't know what to call it, but its where the title of the character is put. There is also a transparent version for you to adjust and copy & paste into the template.

Then the body paragraph. Similar to the character's title, hopefully if you aren't using Clip Studio Paint then the settings will help you in getting the text looking right. Or you could do your own thing with the text. This is just a guide on my settings.

Lastly is how the image of the character is done. The style of the character doesn't really matter. All that matters is the bold blue/purple outline, screentone, and a masking layer to make it fit in to the way the pause screens are presented.

Hopefully this helps in creating your own lore pause screens for any Kirby fans out there.

Thank you to @starflungwaddledee for giving me this idea to post a template of this for others to use.

#kirby #kirby star allies

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x-on-the-calendar-business · 5 months

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exploring panic!'s a fever you can't sweat out/live in denver boxset

a couple of years ago, i managed to snag this for $150, which is still crazy to me, and it's definitely my favorite thing i've ever owned. i feel like i haven't seen many people detailing the contents of it, and since it's such a cool relic, i wanted to share this beauty with everyone.

it comes with the live in denver dvd (left) and a fever you can't sweat out cd (right). the cover art and discs are SO fucking pretty and cool i'm so obsessed with them. i love how it really feeds into that 20s/30s theme they had going on this era.

then it has these 4 photo cards which are all such beautiful photos. the first one especially is one of my all time favorite panic photos. the b&w filter also fits this era so well.

this is a phenakistiscope. you stand in front of a mirror and spin it around while looking through the cracks so it looks like the girl is dancing (instructions are included on the back).

this is a tour program for the live in denver tour. it includes all the tour dates, as well as a guide to their discography. including pictures of the inside would exceed my image limit, so if anyone wants a post detailing this item, i'd be more than happy to post that!

self explanatory but it's a mask reminiscent of the but it's better if you do music video.

there's this SUPER cool poster that i'd love to hang up on my wall but i'm too scared to in case it ruins it. i'm actually so obsessed with this thing.

this is something else i can't include detailed pictures of due to the image limit, but honestly there isn't a lot of lore or super interesting stuff inside of it. however, i'd still be happy to detail it more in another post.

there's this GORGEOUS notebook that i'm also too scared to actually do anything with. it is actually quite a thick notebook. i looove the detail of the "PANIC!" barely visible in the middle of the pages.

now onto my absolute favorite part of this thing:

these cards for each song on fever are SO fucking cool and i love them so much. they're printed on really nice material too; they don't feel cheap and have this grainy feel to them too (idk how else to describe it) and it works so well. luckily i'm able to post individual pictures of each one.

so the back of all of them have the lyrics printed like that but i won't be able to post pictures of that for each one.

they just all encapsulate the theme of each song perfectly while also fitting so well with the aesthetic that they had this era. like my jaw dropped when i saw these for the first time. (side note: i'm not sure why they numbered intermission as number 12 when it should be 8 based on the album. i also don't know why they skipped introduction since they included intermission).

all in all, this is the coolest piece of merch a band has ever put out imo. like no one is doing it like this anymore. i'd been yearning for it since i was 14 so i'm so glad i was able to find it as such a steal of a price. i'll never shut up about owning it and if you're able to get your hands on it i cannot recommend it enough.

#panic! at the disco #panic at the disco #ryan ross #jon walker #spencer smith #brendon urie #patd #live in denver #a fever you can't sweat out #afycso #now i just need the pretty odd boxset and it will be complete #but thats consistently $400 so it's gonna be a while #sorry it took me so long to post this btw

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celestial-robots · 10 months

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Explaining Eclipse (A Theory/Headcanon)

Spoilers for the Ruin DLC below!

Okay so I've been thinking so much about Eclipse and what they mean. You know, as you do XD. Just a lot of wondering what they mean for the ~lore~ and how they fit in with the rest of the Sun and Moon stuff. And after a lot of thinking, I may have figured stuff out.

I've seen a couple posts wondering if Eclipse is the way the Daycare Attendant is "supposed to be" and if Sun and Moon are the result of the DCA breaking down or something. But personally I just can't see that. Not only do we hear Sun go "thank you" after the Eclipse encounter, implying he's still around and hasn't permanently "fused" into Eclipse, but it also wouldn't make sense with stuff in Security Breach. In-game Fazbear merchandise and advertising have a lot of focus on Sun and Moon as two separate individuals, not the DCA as a single unit. For example, see the giant golden statues outside of Daycare. Two different forms of the Daycare Attendant. Collectibles are also identified as "Sun" and "Moon." It's not like they're labeled "Eclipse Doll (Sun form)" or "Moon Eclipse Doll." No, it's just "Sun Doll" and "Moon Doll."

So here's how I think it works. Sun and Moon are two separate AIs within the DCA body. They can function on their own, independent of the other, in the way we've been thinking this whole time. BUT they're also designed to join together, like interlocking puzzle blocks. Two separate forms that come together to make a "whole" that's greater than the sum of the parts.

This makes sense from a programming perspective. Sun is designed to play with kids and entertain them, Moon is designed to watch over kids while they sleep. They're both made for specific scenarios, but taking care of kids is a lot more complicated than just "play time" and "nap time." So whenever one of them encounters something they can't deal with by themselves, they call for help from the other, who activates as well, combining their features and protocols. I'm willing to bed this also activates several specific "Eclipse" features that can only be accessed when both AIs are active, which would explain why Eclipse has such a different personality.

But if this is the case, then why haven't we seen Eclipse before? Why did they only come out when Cassie rebooted the DCA?

Well that's where this theory by @dana-chan-the-control-brain and @twinanimatronics comes in. The two of them theorized that the Balloon World arcade cabinet in the DCA's room was some sort of signal broadcaster that kept their AIs divided. I think that Ruin confirms this—or at least provides a lot of solid evidence.

In the main game, Balloon World is in the DCA room, up and active and with a form of Eclipse inside. In Ruin, the Balloon World cabinet is broken. And you can see weird purple glitches coming from it while in AR vision. It's only in Ruin, after the cabinet has been damaged, that we finally meet Eclipse.

This is venturing a bit into headcanon territory, but let's have some fun with this. I believe that the Balloon World cabinet was put in the DCA's room to infect them with the virus. Probably a long time before the events of the actual game, since the worn-down state of the room shows it's been a while since any human or robot cleaners were in there. This might have been some sort of test run to see if the virus could affect the animatronics.

However, the virus couldn't affect the DCA while Eclipse was there, acting as a sort of stabilizing failsafe for Sun and Moon. So the virus then cut off the "fuse" function from Sun and Moon, locking Eclipse away and preventing them from stepping in when Sun or Moon encounter something strange—strange like a virus. Sun probably couldn't be affected by the virus because the virus attacks nighttime and/or security protocols, and he no longer had access to those once Eclipse was gone. Moon, however, did. And that's why he's hostile.

But then, if the Balloon World cabinet was keeping Eclipse contained, why were Sun and Moon still freaking out in Ruin even after the cabinet was destroyed? Why did they need Cassie to reboot them?

Well, I think that forming Eclipse requires both Sun and Moon to want to fuse together. And Moon clearly doesn't want to do that in Ruin. Why? Probably because he's mad at Sun. You can hear how angry he is in voice lines where he says stuff like "No more Sun!" and "No more light!" (Seriously, props to Kellen Goff, holy shit.) Moon was only able to be "awake" for short periods of time in the main game, partially because Sun was encouraging everyone to "Keep the lights on." Of course Moon would be pissed and want to be in control now that the lights are broken. He wasn't about to risk losing that .

But not having Eclipse around was ultimately damaging Sun and Moon. They were meant to stabilize the system when the two individuals couldn't do that alone. Not to mention their systems were already damaged, judging by Moon's increased light sensitivity in Ruin. They needed Eclipse so they could be stable again.

Cassie rebooting the DCA's systems was a lot like restarting your computer. Everything shuts down and then all the systems start running again at once—including, in this case, both Sun and Moon's AIs and whatever Eclipse functions were now restored. That's why Eclipse was in control after the reboot. Presumably, the rest of the software damage was also fixed, which probably helped calm Moon down. So, overall, a happy ending.

Relatively, I mean. The DCA is still stuck in an abandoned Pizzaplex, but at least Eclipse is back and Sun and Moon aren't fighting anymore :)

#fnaf security breach #fnaf ruin #fnaf ruin spoilers #ruin dlc spoilers #fnaf ruin dlc spoilers #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf eclipse #sundrop #moondrop

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absofitlyweight · 4 months

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#weight loss consultant #weight loss consultant online #individualized fitness program #bca solution #evolt 360 body composition scanner

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dromaeocore · 11 months

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So, Peer Respites are a not-very-well-known alternative to psychiatric hospitalization. They are 100% voluntary and staffed by peers, AKA individuals with lived experience of mental illness/emotional distress/what-have-you. Generally, they are a homelike environment where you can come and go as you please, and there is lots of voluntary programming like groups, art, yoga, etc. You can bring your own food or cook meals together with staff and other residents. Stays are usually anywhere from five days to two weeks, depending on the respite house and also your own wants and needs. There are no restraints, strip searches, or seclusion.

They're also on the rise!! I know this because I've spent all day today compiling data on peer respites in the US so I could create this fun graph for ya'll.

In the past ten years, at least 38 new peer respites have opened in the US. The data for 2023 is incomplete, but at least one has already opened, and another is scheduled for a soft opening later this year.

Some things about the data:

I did not include peer respites which were permanently closed (2) or could not find an opening date for (1)

I used the National Empowerment Center's Directory of Peer Respites, along with some internet sleuthing to find a few more (and to find the opening dates for each one). Because of this, I may have missed a few.

There were a handful of peer respites for which I could not pin down a for-certain, exact date for. I did include these in the dataset as I was able to find rough estimates.

I have also not done a deep dive for all peer respites that were unsuccessful, which may skew the data a little bit.

I included Soteria Vermont as well, as it technically fits the definition despite being specifically for people with psychosis

If you would like to help get a peer respite off the ground, I would recommend donating to Peer Support Space Inc.'s Orlando FL Peer Respite. Their soft launch is November 2023, and they are scheduled to open to the public in January 2024. This is really important, because Florida's only peer respite has recently permanently closed.

If you're interested in starting your own peer respite, the National Empowerment Center has a list of resources here.

If you are interested in seeking help from a peer respite, there is a directory of most of them here. You can also look at the Google Doc I created to compile my data, which has a few more/is slightly more updated - though it's not nearly as nicely put together as the other one!

If anyone would like to add any information, non-US peer respites, etc, feel free to!

#peer respites #peer respite #psych ward #psych hospital #psychiatric hospitalization #psych critical #psychiatry critical #anti psychiatry #antipsych #antipsychiatry #mental illness #neurodivergency #disability #hospital diversion #psychiatry #disability pride month #psychiatric survivors #putting in all the tags I can think of so ppl see this lol

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samuelhufnagel · 7 months

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#Samuel Hufnagel personal trainer #Samuel Personal Trainer #Samuel Hufnagel #Personal trainer Samuel Hufnagel #Fitness Trainer Samuel Hufnagel #German Fitness Trainer Samuel Hufnagel #Gym Trainer Samuel Hufnagel #German personal trainer #German Gym Trainer Samuel Hufnagel #Germany Gym Trainer Samuel Hufnagel #german Gym trainer by Samuel Hufnage #german personal trainer Samuel Hufnage #Samuel Hufnagel holistic fitness #Personal trainer A license Koblenz #Training therapy expertise Frankfurt am Main #Individualized fitness programs Cologne #Health-oriented training #Muscle building and weight management #Sports nutrition advice Samuel Hufnagel #Personalized fitness coaching #Versatile training experience #Promoting health through fitness #fitness trainer in German #fitness trainer course #S #Samuel_Hufnagel #Personal_trainer_Samuel_Hufnagel

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finsubbybedwetter · 6 months

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Good afternoon, please have a seat. I am an administration officer acting under the authority of the Male Reproductive Rights Reform Act. You are here today to receive official notice that your MRRRA standing has been lowered to Restricted/Developmentally-impaired in response to the recent update in your medical history.

Please confirm for the record that you recently reported a bedwetting episode to you doctor. Thank you. I presume that you were not aware that male adult bedwetting has recently been reclassified as a prohibitive developmental impairment. Yes, we are aware that you only reported a single incident. However, as your medical records indicate that you experienced frequent bedwetting throughout your teens, we consider this episode to be indicative of relapse into chronic, habitual bedwetting, which is grounds for immediate corrective action.

You have been enrolled into the Adult General Urinary Incontinence Correction Program at a male remedial facility. More commonly referred to informally as the toilet training program. Yes, we understand that you have no history of full incontinence, but as bedwetting was only recently recognized as a prohibitive condition, we do not currently have a remedial program more specific to your needs. Also, studies have shown that daytime wetting is disproportionately common and often under-reported in bedwetters. We believe this program will be a good fit for you.

You will undergo corrective therapy and continuous assessment over a six week period. The corrective component of the program consists of hypnotherapy and severe negative reinforcement. You will be diapered at all times during your stay at the facility, and fitted with a moisture-sensing alarm to ensure accurate record keeping of wetting incidents for assessment and disciplinary purposes. I believe you had some experience with this kind of alarm in your teens so this should be quite familiar to you. Yes, you will be diapered at all times, not only for bed. Please understand that program rules do not permit us to make any exceptions for your case.

Bathroom visits will be restricted to a fixed schedule and fluid intake will be managed to ensure that you receive an accurate assessment. In order to keep our assessment false positive rate within MRRRA guidelines, the bathroom schedule and fluid intake minimums have been tuned to be challenging for an adult male with average bladder control and extremely challenging for impaired individuals such as yourself. We have also found that stressing program participants in this way boosts the efficacy of the negative reinforcement component of the program.

At the conclusion of the program, your assessment results will be reviewed by committee and you will be prescribed assessment outcomes. Outcomes vary widely. The more severe outcomes include permanent revocation of reproductive rights, castration, gender reassignment, and in instances involving developmental impairment such as yours, revocation of legal adulthood.

Should you receive a favorable assessment, your standing will be lifted to Qualified-unrestricted/Developmentally-impaired. Yes that's correct - your diagnosis as an adult bedwetter is permanent and thus will be reflected in your public record regardless of assessment result. A favorable assessment only indicates that you are not currently experiencing symptoms. Also, please be aware that current and future employers and sexual partners, if any, will be notified of your condition. Though, having seen your file it looks like you won't need worry about that second part..

That concludes this proceeding. When you leave this office you will be escorted to the facility for induction. Your assessment period has already begun. I hope I don't have to tell you that any non-compliance will reflect extremely poorly.

Alright, now that that's done and we're off the record, I can finally be honest with you. You're fucked. I've sent dozens of pissy-pants virgins just like you through this program, and you know what? You losers always come out more pathetic than you went in. Right now you're just a bedwetter, but in six weeks time you're going to be a stuttering, subservient, diaper-dependent sissy. You want my advice? Don't fight it. Forget about "favorable assessment". Forget about ever losing your virginity. Think of this as six weeks to adjust to your new life.

#bed wetter #bed wetting #humiliation captions #diaper captions #loser humiliation

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 6 months

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With Discretion - Holiday Special**

Here it is! I hope you guys like it. I really like how I ended this series and I hope you guys do too. Thanks for reading!

Read the rest of the “With Discretion” series

WARNINGS: miscommunication/avoidance of issues, fear of commitment and doubt in relationships/partners, 69, face fucking and sitting, fingering, forced and multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, size kink, marking.

WC: 15.2k

Harry had been on a high for the near year you two had been together. Business was excellent, his firm was doing great and he had been able to unfold that deal with the schools in the area and the pilot of the internship program was doing really well. Of course, things with you had been a fucking dream. You were both thriving in your individual endeavors and of course, as a couple. The more time you spent together the more he thought about marriage. He’d always wanted to get married but of course, he was cautious with his love life and its future, but now the future he wanted felt far more tangible. You were everything he had wanted in a life partner. He was anxious to bring it up to you because inevitably, the question would be asked by both of your families about where you two saw this relationship going. Especially as the holidays approached.

He was thinking on this even more since your parents were coming to visit from California and it would be the first time he officially met them in the flesh. It goes without saying that Harry was absolutely nervous about it but he was looking forward to meeting them and spending time with them. He knew that they weren’t all that supportive of your marriage to Caleb, so he wanted to make the best impression possible so that they didn’t have a shred of doubt about what a future with him could mean for you. He had been there for a few conversations with your mom about how disappointed she was at the outcome of your marriage, she wasn’t condescending about it, but like any parent who felt they knew best from the start, she couldn’t help but hit you with that dreaded “I told you so” a couple times. The next time she said something like that to you, he wanted it to be under good circumstances, like your wedding day perhaps when he inevitably cried at the altar because of how breathtaking you’d look. His little daydream was interrupted by his office phone ringing.

“Mr. Styles, reception called, Y/n just arrived.” His new assistant, Corey, informed him over the line.

“Great! Thanks mate. Can you inform reception that I’ll be just a few minutes?” He assured and Corey confirmed before hanging up. He shot you a quick text to let you know that he’d be out soon. You were going to a late lunch and then doing some Christmas shopping, so his Friday would be ending early and he couldn’t be more thrilled to kick off his weekend plans with you.

*********

You were sitting in the reception area just looking through your phone while you waited for Harry to come down. You were quite enraptured with an email on your phone that you didn’t notice that Caleb was approaching you until he called your name.

“Y/N!” He greeted cheerfully and you glanced up from your phone to see him smiling down at you.

“Oh my god! Hi Cal, how are you?” You asked as you shot up from your seat and hugged him tight as he hugged you back.

“I’ve been doing well.” He smiled.

“I can see that! You look great.” You complimented him. He looked a lot more fit and well kept than the last time you had seen him, he had been struggling quite a bit then.

“Thanks, you too.” He smiled, “So things are still going well with Harry.” He said and you nodded.

“Yeah, actually.”

“What’re you going on a year now?” He asked.

“Yeah, in the new year. It’s crazy how time flies.” You said with a smile and he nodded. “What about you? Did ummm, did anything ever pan out with you and Dani?” You asked and Cal sighed.

“Well, kind of. I ummm, I had a trip to London for the firm several months ago. Obviously, I saw her there…we spent the night together. I think she was just feeling a bit homesick and was seeking some familiarity, you know?” He said and you nodded in understanding, “But ummm, obviously she lives there now and we talked a few times after that but it was mostly just good for closure. I ummm, I did start dating again though. I feel good about it, I’ve had a few successful connections, so ummm, yeah it’s been going well.” He shared.

“That’s great, Cal. I’m really happy for you. I’m glad you were able to move on. I know it can be hard.”

“Was it hard for you?” He asked and you nodded. “You sure?” He grinned and you chuckled.

“Yeah! But see I started moving on when I realized that you were seeing someone else. So by the time we were over-over it was a bit easier for me to get with someone new.” You explained.

“Ah…the slow fade.” He hummed.

“Exactly.” You chuckled.

“So what brings you in?”

“Just having a late lunch with Harry and then we’re doing some Christmas shopping. My parents are coming into town for the holidays so just trying to find something nice for them.”

“Great, that’s really great.” He hummed and you nodded. “And business is going well?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s excellent with that. I had to hire a helper actually, just to give you an idea of how things are going.”

“Wow, congrats!”

“Thank you so much. It’s been tricky at times to meet the demand but I’m getting there.” You smiled.

Just then the elevator dinged and you both glanced over to see Harry stepping out with a cheerful smile upon seeing you standing there. Harry and Cal were on good terms, it did take a few weeks for Cal to get used to Harry dating his ex-wife, but when the weirdness faded they were back to their cool and professional relationship without a hitch. Harry had always been a bit of the jealous type, but he knew that Cal wasn’t a threat to him, so his presence did not deter his excitement to see you in any way.

“Hey, baby!” He greeted you happily and Cal moved aside as Harry hugged you and kissed your cheek quickly.

“Hi.” You responded with a big smile.

“Just catching up?” He asked looking between you and Cal and you both nodded.

“Yep, she’s telling me how she’s basically becoming this event planning tycoon.” Cal said and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, the business is growing fast.”

“Maybe we can even hire her for some of the office events or shindigs for clients.” He suggested and Harry’s eyebrows arched up.

“That’s actually quite a brilliant idea, Cal. We just might have to…” Harry hummed with a smile at you and you shook your head.

“You guys are crazy.” You chuckled and they smiled at each other.

“Well, I uh, I need to be getting back up there.” Cal said, “But it was nice running into you. I’m happy things are going well, Y/N.” Cal said and you nodded.

“Yeah, it was great to see you. And I’m also glad to hear you’re doing well, Cal. See you around.” You smiled.

“Later, Cal.” Harry said with a smile and Caleb waved once more before he hurried into the elevator before the doors closed. “Was that alright? Seeing him?” Harry asked as soon as he was gone and you nodded.

“Yeah, we were just catching up. Are you good? That wasn’t weird for you?”

“Not at all. We’re on good terms here as well.” Harry assured and you smiled.

“Good. Now, where are we eating?”

“I managed to get a last minute reservation at Carbone, know you’ve been dying to get more of that mushroom fettuccine.” He said with a smile.

“Ooh, yes! Yummm!” You said with excitement and headed off.

Your lunch had been delicious, as you expected, and your shopping was also going really well. It had been very productive thus far since you had managed to secure the gift you wanted for your mom with ease. You’d also found something for Cece and Harry had managed to find something for Corey, his assistant. Corey had been recommended by Tamika when she put in her 2 weeks. She had been accepted to USC and from what you and Harry had heard last, she was kicking ass over there. But Corey had some big shoes to fill and he was doing an exceptional job, so Harry wanted to get him something to say thank you, even if it was as simple as a keyboard for his iPad. He could use it for school, it would come in handy for his note taking in his classes. Now you just needed to get your dad his gift. He had been wanting some cufflinks that matched with this tie clip that he had been gifted for his birthday a few years prior and after your mom had sent a picture, you were eager to find something that paired well with the help of some experts.

“Let’s go in here, this is the jeweler my client recommended.” You said to Harry who nodded and opened up the door for you to get inside and out of the cold New York air. You were greeted warmly and asked if you needed help with anything the second you got inside the store. “I actually do need help, need to see about some cufflinks.” You said to the man and he nodded and guided you both over to one of the cases across the store.

“Felicity will be able to help you with that. She’ll be with you in a moment.” The man assured and then excused himself.

“You alright here, baby?” He asked you and you nodded, “OK, gonna wander around, see if I can get my mum anything while we’re here.” Harry said.

“OK.” You smiled and let him go off. Moments later you were joined by the saleswoman and consultant, Felicity. You were able to show her the picture your mom had sent and she lit up assuring you that she had several options to show you for your dad.

“Some of the pieces are actually part of the new inventory which we haven’t quite finished unpacking for display.” She explained, “I’m gonna go locate them back there OK? In the meantime feel free to just look around, I’ll come find you when I have the selection ready for you to look over.”

“Thank you so much, Felicity.” You smiled at the older woman and she gave you a friendly smile before disappearing to the back of the store. You turned around and darted your eyes around until you found Harry at a display case at the end of the store furthest from you. You made your way over quietly, but he seemed to notice your presence nearing him as he turned when you were just a few feet from him. “What you looking at there?” You asked as you came up to the case.

“Rings.” He said softly and you peered down at the glimmering accessories displayed beautifully beneath the spotless glass panel. You couldn’t help but notice that these were specifically engagement rings as the regular accessory rings were in the next case over from what you could see as you glanced to your right briefly. “That one’s nice, no?” He asked you as he nodded towards the case.

“Which one?”

“Second row, fifth one in.” He said and you searched and nodded.

“It looks vintage-y, that’s what I like about it. Don’t love that cut though.” You said.

“The princess cut?” He asked and you nodded.

“S’too boxy, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He hummed.

“The one two rows beneath it is gorgeous.” You mused and he smiled.

“The oval one in gold?” He asked and you nodded and hummed in confirmation, “Yeah, quite like that one actually. It’s very nice.” He mused as he looked it over.

“Would you like to inspect any of the rings more closely or try anything on?” Suddenly one of the salespersons appeared seemingly out of thin air.

“Oh n-”

“Yes, please.” Harry’s voice slightly overpowered yours before he turned and smiled at you briefly before turning back to the clerk and pointing at the one you had said you liked. The man was careful as he removed it from the back velvet setting it was in and reached for the magnifying glass that was peeking out of the front pocket of his suit jacket.

“This is a fine choice. The main stone is 3 carats, ethically sourced, and it has wonderful clarity.” He said as he positioned the magnifying glass over the ring’s main stone, “Have a look.” He insisted and you both peered over. It looked like you were staring into a hall of a million mirrors, it was absolutely beautiful. “You don’t see too many engagement rings set in gold now a days, but it is making a come back. It gives them a generational kind of feel, I think. Like a priceless family heirloom.” He smiled at the two of you.

“Yeah.” You hummed in agreement with a smile before glancing up to the man.

“Would you like to try it on?” He asked and you glanced to Harry who smiled at you and shrugged, indicating that it was up to you. It was just so pretty that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try it on. Cal insisted that you keep your rings from your engagement and marriage, but you didn’t wear them anymore, they were in a safe in your apartment. But you had been wearing two rings for seven years and you did feel naked without them for the first few months after you agreed to divorce, but now it was fine. But a part of you missed having them on so you agreed.

“Sure.” You accepted happily. Cal hadn’t consulted with you on which ring he’d get you when he proposed. You still liked it, it just wasn’t something you would’ve chosen for yourself, unlike this ring, this ring was right in your wheelhouse.

“It helps a lot to see the different cuts on yourself. That way you know which ones flatter you most when the time comes to choose “the one”, you know?” He said as he extended his hand towards yours and you handed over your right hand without much thought.

“There’s only one “the one” ring. One ring to rule them all…” you said lowly as you glanced back at Harry knowingly as you quoted “Lord of the Rings” with a grin and Harry sputtered on a laugh and the salesman did as well.

“You’re a complete dork.” Harry murmured before kissing the side of your head, “S’one of the reasons I love you, though.”

“Pardon, but wrong hand, miss.” the salesman said and your eyebrows arched up before you and Harry chuckled.

“Right! Don’t know why I’m so nervous.” You chuckled in a bit of embarrassment as you handed over your left hand and Harry’s warm hand rubbed over your lower back a few times reassuringly.

“It can be nerve-wracking, it’s a big step getting engaged.” The man said and you hummed. Obviously, you and Harry were not getting engaged any time soon. You hadn’t even properly talked about marriage like that yet, this was just for fun…right? Suddenly the man gasped and you turned to him, “Would you look at that?” he mused in wonder, his bright eyes met with yours, “It’s like it was made for you. It even fits perfectly.” He pointed out with glee, “And the cut is very flattering on your hand. It looks very beautiful on you. You have good instincts for this.” He smiled up at you and you just chuckled bashfully. “What do you think, sir?” He asked Harry and you glanced back to him as well.

“I agree, I love it on you.” He smiled solely at you and you smiled back at him as your stomach did an unsettling flip that you couldn’t really focus on when the man spoke up again.

“Are you interested in seeing any other options similar to this one? We can find similar ones with different budgetary limits as well if you have a price point in mind? Or have you got any ideas for other styles or cuts you’d like to see? Maybe even see what wedding bands can match with the engagement ring?”

“Sorry, we’re actually just here to buy some cufflinks for my girlfriend’s father.” Harry explained, “We got a bit sidetracked over here. The rings are just so shiny and beautiful, it’s impossible not to come have a look at them more closely.” He said with a smile and the man hummed with a smile.

“Oh, I understand, could stand around here all day marveling. I’m sorry to have assumed. You are a lovely couple though. Maybe sometime in the future.” He said with a hopeful smile.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Harry smiled, “Thank you though.”

“Let me give this back to you.” You said as you extended your hand out again and he chuckled.

“Of course, miss.” He said and carefully slipped the ring off of your finger, “Well in the future if you are taking things to the next level feel free to make an appointment with me, my name’s Dan. I’m the senior consultant specializing in engagement rings and wedding bands.” He explained as he set the ring back in it’s spot under the glass. “We do very thorough consultations for engagement rings if you so choose to buy with us.” He said as he extended his card to you, again he seemingly pulled it out of thin air.

“Thank you.” Harry hummed with a smile as he took it and slipped it into his pant pocket.

“My pleasure. I hope you find everything to your satisfaction.” Dan smiled before hurrying off to help another customer a few cases down.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking now?” Harry asked with a smile as you turned to him. The excitement and expectation in his eyes made your stomach start to flip for your heart rate to skyrocket.

“Ummm that Dan’s a magician? I mean he literally just conjured himself!” You said and Harry was silent for a few seconds before he knocked his head back in laughter.

“OK, right!?” He gasped and you giggled and nodded, “Like where the fuck did the business card come from? I was looking at him the entire time he was taking the ring off of you! Didn’t see him reach down into his pockets or anything once!” Harry told you with an amused look in his eyes.

“Maybe he was a magician before he became an engagement ring consultant?”

“Like a serious one in Vegas or like for kid’s parties?” Harry asked and your eyebrows furrowed.

“All magicians are serious magicians, Harry.” You said to him in mock offense and he chuckled.

“Oh, alright well thanks for that tidbit.” He grinned.

“You’re welcome. Can’t go insulting magical careers based on the population they cater to, you muggle.” You teased and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, excuse me…” he said sarcastically.

“I’m serious! A pediatric doctor is no less serious because they cater to children specifically, are they?” You questioned him and he smiled.

“You’re very right actually…” he pondered and you giggled, “And you’re also a very serious nuisance.” He said softly and you laughed and hugged him tight before leaning your head against his chest. You could hear his heart pounding intensely in it’s confines and it made you draw back from him as that nervous feeling started to swirl in your tummy again and caused you to feel a bit sick. It scared you that it was mostly a bad feeling, it wasn’t just nerves like you hoped when it first happened. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asked you when he saw your smile fade away.

“Oh, just my stomach suddenly hurt.” You explained and he sighed.

“Did you forget your Lactaid pill? That fettuccine you had is drowned in cream sauce.” He said quietly and you sniggered.

“No, I didn’t forget it.” You assured through a giggle. “It’s gone now, I’m alright.” You said and he looked at you skeptically.

“You sure? We can just head home once you get the cufflinks if you’re not feeling well.” He suggested. You did have the rest of the day planned out. Harry had a few rental properties around town and you would be spending the night at one of the empty ones after dinner and visiting a comedy club with a few of his friends later tonight.

“I’m sure.” You smiled and he nodded. Just then Felicity called your name from behind the counter and you turned to her to see she had brought out a velvet cushion with at least a dozen cufflinks for you to look at, “Oh, look at these! Help me pick something, H.” You said to him and he nodded as he came closer to you and rested his hands at your hips as he peered over you, half-listening to what Felicity was saying to you.

He couldn’t help it as he glanced past the cushion of cufflinks and right down at that ring you’d tried on. Dan hadn’t just been buttering you up for a potential sale when he said it was practically made for you, it really did look amazing on you. But then you got a little weird…when he’d asked you if you were thinking what he was thinking about and you deflected and started mucking about over Dan. So he quickly rejected any feelings of disappointment at your lack of seriousness over what he was trying to bring up to you and just bounced back with another playful comment about fucking Dan and his sleight of hand. It was odd to him because you two were obviously in love and your relationship was going incredibly well. But your reaction made him wonder if perhaps he was taking your future together more seriously than you were. It put an annoying and anxious weight over his chest that he had never felt with you before and it made him upset and a bit scared. He wanted to address it immediately but given your reaction to the implied situation and topic at hand he didn’t expect that you’d want to discuss it any time soon. So Harry did the one thing he knew wasn’t correct and ignored that nagging ache in his heart and just warded off all of the thoughts and things that were currently bothering him about this and focused on the task at hand, the cufflinks.

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

“God, Cece it was absolutely mortifying!” You groaned with a frown before you just rolled over and buried your face in your pillow. Cece laughed from beside you and you pouted as you took a peek at her. “Don’t make fun.”

“I’m not! It’s just really funny actually.” She giggled and you groaned.

It had been a couple days since the ring incident at the jeweler and things had gotten a bit weird between you and Harry. Or maybe you just felt they had been weird after? You guys stuck to your plans with his friends and all but something just felt off to you. You had planned to spend the weekend together in the city, but the following day Harry said he had a work emergency come up and cancelled the rest of your plans at the last moment leaving you to have breakfast alone before you headed back to the suburbs on your own. He hadn’t been cold per se, but you knew Harry well and something had been a bit off after Friday. He barely got in touch with you for the rest of the day on Saturday, he only checked in to ensure you’d made it home safe. And now it was Sunday and all you’d gotten from him today so far was a “Have a good day” text. You had asked him how his work thing had gone and if he would be back in the area for dinner but he left you on read and that’s when you called Cece and she immediately came over.

“It’s not! Like I just…I freaked out, you know? Like I thought we were just messing around not…like…ughhh.” You groaned again in frustration and Cece sighed and gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Do you really think he’s upset at you over that?” She asked you and you shrugged.

“I don’t know, but that’s the only thing that like…that stands out from our normal interactions and conversations so I’m pretty sure.”

“Just ask him!” Cece advised with some irritation at your obstinance. “It’s that fucking simple.”

“No! What if it’s just a work or family thing and I’m just jumping to conclusions?” You asked her.

“Well you never know until you ask…” Cece said again and you sighed and glanced up to the ceiling. “And even if he’s not upset at that, clearly something about that is weighing on you. So what is that about for you? Like are you not sure of a future with Harry? Like maybe you’re concerned that he’s at a different level than you are in the relationship?” She fed a few ideas hoping you’d resonate with something and bite.

“It’s just that…like I’ve only been divorced a year, you know?” You said and Cece nodded, “I love Harry, so much! I need him like the air I breathe but I just…” you paused, “Things are just really great now, you know? What if…” you trailed off as your eyes welled up with tears, “What if marriage changes things between us, you know?” You asked in a small voice, “Like obviously I jumped into things with Cal so quickly…I didn’t take my time to make such a big decision, we were also together about a year before he proposed and look how that ended! I don’t want to do the same thing with Harry and have it all go to shit!” You were crying now and Cece frowned and just tutted and pulled you into her chest as you cried, “I can’t lose him, Cece. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I can’t.” You sobbed.

“Oh babe…” she hummed quietly as she gently scratched at your head. “I know that the future can be scary, but what you have with Harry is not what you had with Cal. He’s a different person, it’s a different relationship. And you’re a different person too, babe. You were fucking 23 when you started dating Cal, you were half kid, half grown up! You had just moved out of your parents’ house, you hardly had any life experience…” she reminded you, “Things are very different for you now. You’re more mature now so you’re going to have the right amount of doubt and ask the right questions. And I know you won’t be victim to the rose colored glasses of your relationship with Harry this time around.” She pointed out and you sighed as you pulled back and looked into her eyes.

“One would fucking hope…” you sighed and she smiled at you with sympathy, “I know that maybe I didn’t love Cal anymore by the time we divorced but it still took a toll, you know?” You explained and she nodded.

“Of course, babe. It’s a lot to go through.” She said and you nodded, “D-do you feel like maybe you rushed into this relationship with Harry?” Cece asked you and you sighed.

“I don’t even know anymore! Like at the time it didn’t feel that way…we just have so much chemistry and it was so easy, you know? Like was I on an oxytocin high from being with him that I just said yes to him?” You asked and Cece frowned.

“Did you feel any hesitation when he asked you to be his girlfriend?” Cece asked and you shook your head. “So the doubt is new then.” She said and you frowned.

“It’s not doubt…I mean I know he’s the one for me! It’s just…I’m scared.” You admitted with a small voice, “I’m scared that…that I’m repeating history.”

“Would you want to marry him if he asked?”

“Of course! I’d just need to have a talk with him about it to ensure that what happened with Cal doesn’t happen again. Like we haven’t even talked about that yet and next thing I know I’m trying on an engagement ring! It was just a lot…”

“Well maybe that’s what he was trying to do after? Not necessarily talk about when you’d get engaged or even a timeline. Maybe he just wanted to see if you were thinking similarly about what you saw for your future together?” She suggested, “Then you went and made a joke of it and well…I can see how that might possibly hurt his feelings or just make him pull back a bit to gain some perspective about where you two truly stand, you know?” Cece said and you sighed as those pieces started fitting together into a picture. A picture where you were the unserious asshole and he was just the lovely man that he’s always been.

“God, I am the worst…” you groaned.

“No you’re not, Y/N. You’re still healing from before. Now, that doesn’t mean that you jumped the gun with Harry. It just means that your last marriage was shit and obviously you’re going to be a bit more apprehensive when the topic comes up this time around.” She comforted you with a soft and caring smile.

“Thanks.” You sniffled and she nodded.

“Now, if I were you I’d try to talk to Harry about this as soon as possible just to clear the air. Just ask and if it’s not anything to do with that or with you then at least you’ve done some of the soul searching so that if it ever comes up again you don’t deflect by calling him a muggle.” She said playfully and you shrieked and covered your face with your hands.

“So embarrassing!” You wailed as Cece just laughed.

**********

You had texted Harry and told him that you needed to talk to him when he was next available. You waited about an hour before he responded and said that he also needed to talk to you about something and that he could come to yours in the evening and you agreed. After that response your afternoon with Cece was just riddled with anxiety; she tried to talk you down, but you were a wreck and convinced yourself that Harry was just coming over to dump you in person. She had left you about fifteen minutes before he was due at yours. You had taken a CBD gummy to calm your nerves and even had a quick, warm body shower to help expel some tension, but the erratic beating of your heart was just too much for you to control. When your doorbell rang, signaling Harry’s arrival, you took slow deep breaths as you made your way across your apartment and finally unlocked the door.

“Hey, come in.” You said with a small and nervous smile and he thanked you quietly as he stepped inside.

He immediately got to toeing off his shoes and you just hurried over to the living room area while he finished up. When Harry finally made his way over he saw you staring at him anxiously and it put an awful feeling in his stomach. Maybe you were going to break up with him for the way he had been acting the last couple days. He hadn’t meant to shut down and pull away like that after the incident at the jeweler, but he was suddenly faced with the harsh reality that maybe you both were on completely different pages about your relationship and where you wanted it to go eventually. He knew that the mere act of withdrawing from someone who loves and trusts you instead of communicating openly and honestly can just drive an irreparable wedge between two people and he hoped to the high heavens that he hadn’t done that.

“Ummm, can I sit?” He asked as he pointed to the spot beside you and you nodded.

“Yeah, of course.” You assured him and he sat down but angled his body towards yours and then you moved around to do the same. You were criss-crossed and looking down at the heart-patterned fuzzy socks on your feet for a moment before he decided to break the silence.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” He asked nervously and you bit your lip.

“I’m ummm, still gathering my thoughts a bit. You can go first if you know what you want to say.” You offered and he nodded. He was nervous too, but at least if he got to go first and was just super genuine and apologetic you wouldn’t dump him if that was your plan for this conversation.

“OK sure.” He agreed and exhaled before looking into your eyes, “I’m really sorry for the way I’ve been acting the last couple of days. I lied about that work emergency I said I had on Saturday because I ummm….” He sighed, “I just got a bit…well, not a bit, I was -er I am upset at you for ummm…for what happened at the jeweler on Friday.” He said and you frowned, “I was…I was hoping that after having such an intimate and well, serious moment like that w-with the engagement ring? I hoped that we could maybe have a serious conversation about our future together, like see what our goals were and all that. But then you just went and deflected it by making a total joke of it and it…hurt my feelings and made me feel like maybe you were not as serious about me as I am about you. I should’ve said something when we got a moment to ourselves but I just thought you would deflect again or make light of what happened and I got nervous and just…shut down instead.” He explained with a frown and you immediately reached your hand out to his and he took it immediately.

“I’m really sorry, Harry. I also wanted to talk to you about that same thing.” You said and he nodded, urging you to go on. “I know what I did and I’m so sorry for hurting your feelings. I just…got really uncomfortable and freaked out a bit when I realized the conversation you were wanting to have with me.” You explained and he looked even more disappointed and you spoke up again quickly, “Not because the idea of having a future with you makes me uncomfortable! But because in my experience marriage doesn’t really guarantee anything…” you explained and his eyes softened as yours welled up again, “I mean, my entire marriage was a total lie! We had been so great before we took that step and it scares me to think that maybe marriage is the problem and that it’ll just ruin what we have together. And like…when Cal proposed to me we had also been together for about a year and I suddenly felt like I was in a re-run! And the last thing I want is to repeat history with you. I mean, I’ve only been divorced a year, so I suddenly felt like once again I was just jumping the gun because I was high on love or something and I started to doubt myself and my choices. Not you, never you though. J-just me and my judgement.” You explained with tearful eyes upon admitting that to him. You hated feeling like you couldn’t be objective and up until that point you were so confident that you had been objectively doing what was best for you by allowing yourself to fall for Harry.

“Fuck…I wasn’t even thinking about that, baby. I completely forgot that you were even married before! Jesus… I’m sorry. I wasn’t even considering that or how you might feel about it.” He shook his head incredulously and clearly disappointed in himself for putting you in that position. You smiled despite your glossy eyes, because his reaction alone assured you that you were with the right person. Despite all of the love and feelings tangled up in this, Harry was the best thing for you, even objectively speaking. “Call me crazy, but to me it sometimes feels like we’ve been together forever.” He confessed with a timid smile and you squeezed his hand and nodded.

“Yeah, it does to me too.” You agreed earnestly, “I’m so sorry for making light of such a special moment, Harry. It truly was so special, it felt so…real and possible and promising, then I went and…ruined it by mentioning fucking magic…”

“It’s impressive how mentioning the magic truly sucked it out of the moment.” He mused with a grin and you chuckled and shook your head with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry…” you sighed again and he chuckled.

“S’alright, baby. I’m glad we’ve cleared the air.” He said looking more relaxed all around.

“Me too. Can you forgive me though, for making light of such a serious moment and of dismissing what you were so clearly feeling then? I promise I’ll be more communicative next time I feel any type of apprehension about anything.” You said and he smiled and leaned forward, grabbing your face gently and kissing your lips quickly.

“Of course I forgive you.” He assured you and you smiled, “Though, the thing you truly owe me an apology for, which you have even failed to mention during this very serious conversation, is the fact that you called me a bloody muggle.” He said with a grin and you giggled, “I’ve never been called a muggle before. That was your true crime.” He joked, lightening the mood between you two. You laughed lightly at this fact.

“Well I’m sorry for calling you a muggle. Out of anyone in the world, I am more than aware that you truly do have the magic in all the right places.” You said with a slightly suggestive grin and he chuckled and kissed you again.

“That I do.” He mumbled against your lips with a smirk and you kissed him back before you pulled back from it with smiles.

“Now, if you want a do over of that conversation I’m more than prepared to talk about it.” You said and he smiled.

“Yeah?” He asked and you nodded bashfully, “Well, obviously I want to marry you.” He said and your smile widened. “I just ummm…I wanted to know if you wanted the same thing down the line?” He asked and you nodded.

“I do.” You agreed.

“Great! Umm…so obviously this is uncharted territory to me, but you’ve had experience in this, which I completely failed to consider before…” he sighed, “But ummm…what would you want out of a marriage with me when we get to that stage? Or in your eyes what would a marriage look like?” He asked you earnestly. You had never been asked that before. Is that what people did when they talked about their future? If so, Cal had skipped all of this…he had told you once after a weekend shag-a-thon that he would marry you one day and that was about all of the discussion you’d had about it.

“Ummm…obviously, don’t cheat on me.” You said with a smile and he nodded.

“Never.” He assured you.

“I think we’ve struck a really good time balance in the last few months with our work and our time together and with our friends. I would like to continue having open and honest communication…” you said and he hummed in agreement, “I would expect to maybe have a bit more discussion and input about our own professional endeavors. Like if my little company gets bigger and in more demand I would certainly talk to you about it before just jumping into all this extra work that would take away from our time together, you know? I think that’s more from my experience with Cal…like I honestly just believed that his work was just taking all of his time. I didn’t have the slightest clue about anything going on at the firm. He kept me in the dark and so it was just so much easier for him to lie to me and I would be none the wiser.”

“Yeah.” Harry said with a frown as his thumb ran over your knuckles gently.

“What else…” you hummed, “Oh, the finances bit!” You said and he nodded, “I like what Cal and I had arranged. We both contributed pretty equitably. We did have a joint account for that, but we also had our individual money and savings. I mean, we were a bit closer in earnings though, so that might look very different for us when we get to that point. But having some financial independence is a must for me.” You explained.

“I completely agree with you there.” Harry said and you smiled.

“Also kids. I mean, at least one…maybe two?” You said and his smile widened and he nodded, “I would expect that you be just as present and available for our kids as I would be when you’re at home. I mean, the home is a shared space, so I wouldn’t want to be like a wife, maid, cook, nanny, and business woman. I would expect that we share the load and that each of us took the same ownership over our home and our children.” You said and he nodded. “Also, I’d expect that we don’t let the romance die.” You said and he smiled.

“Wouldn’t dream of that, my love.” He assured you.

“I guess the overarching theme here is that I would want a marriage to look more like a partnership this time around. I don’t want to feel like I’m the only one stoking it to life all the time. I want to feel loved, seen, and supported by my partner. What about you? Any expectations of me?” You asked him.

“I agree with everything you’ve said. I want to marry you because I want to have a life with you. I want to be present for you and for our family. I want to share our time together as much as possible. I know that sometimes things can happen and we can sort of veer, so I would expect you to let me know when I’m not doing my part. I also expect that you allow me to do the same for you. If we do have kids I want to be very hands on, so I want to be able to choose how to parent with you. I want our goals for our family to align as much as possible, you know?” He asked and you nodded. “Obviously, the nitty gritty of each of these will not be figured out until we start to cross those bridges, but overall I would want our marriage to basically be like our safe haven from everything else. I want it to just be us and our family after a long day. It’s the place where I want to feel safe and comforted and loved as well. And I would want our kids to feel that too, to feel like being with their family is a breath of fresh air.” He smiled and you did as well.

“I love you so much, you know that?” You hummed happily.

“I love you too.” He whispered before bringing up your hand and kissing the top of it. “And ummm, I realize that you’re still healing from the disappointment of your last marriage, so I don’t want to push you or rush you through that. I mean, I would marry you next month if you wanted!” He chuckled, “But I want you to feel ready for that step with me. So whenever you are, just let me know and we can…call Dan, the magic man and see about some engagement rings.” He said with a bashful, but hopeful little smile and you just surged forward and hugged him, tackling him down into the couch and he chuckled as he hugged you back.

“I’m gonna keep working through it for us, OK? I promise.” You said to him quietly.

“I know, baby.” He hummed as he rubbed over your back, “God, I thought you were going to dump me…”

“Oh my god, I thought the same thing about you!” You sniggered and then pressed yourself up to look at him and he hugged around your waist lightly, “Was prepared to fight for you tooth and nail.”

“Oh same, baby. Can’t let you go that easily.” He hummed and you grinned.

“I’m going to kiss you now, OK?” You said and he nodded before you dipped down to attach your lips to his eagerly.

It was easy for your kisses to start to get more and more obscene the longer your lips moved together. Your hips were moving over his, grinding your centers together heatedly, longing for some much needed friction. Feeling his erection growing and stiffening up in his joggers was driving you crazy. You wanted to rip his clothes off and go to town on him. You moaned into the kiss as his hands cupped your ass and guided your pace. He slightly shifted and then hummed in delight as you were now perfectly resting over his cock with each grind of your hips. You bit down on his bottom lip, sucking gently, teasing with your tongue but not slipping it into his mouth. He was growing impatient, his fingers digging into your plush bottom indicated his need for you to do more.

“Need something?” You asked with a playful grin and he nodded. You knelt up so that you were straddling his lap now and peering down at him. “What is it, baby? What do you want?” You asked him softly. Suddenly his hand was gripping the back of your neck and pushing you down into a kiss. It was sloppy and urgent and you giggled into it.

“Suck me off.” he mumbled against your mouth. “Please.” He tagged on after a few moments of your eyes just staring into his playfully.

“Alright, only because you asked so nicely…” you said with a smile and he immediately bit down on his bottom lip when he felt your fingers dancing along the elastic band of his joggers.

“Mmm…on second thought turn around. Wanna taste you too.” He said with a smirk that just about melted you from the inside out.

“Definitely not gonna argue with that…” you mused and quickly got off of him and of the couch to get all the clothes off of your lower half. Harry also took advantage and did the same before tugging you back over to him and kissing you deeply before instructing you to get back over him again. You were cautious and allowed him to guide your movements until your wet center was being tickled by his puffs of air. It was making you shiver as a chill traveled down your spine until your skin was covered in goosebumps.

“So fucking pretty and so fucking wet for me.” He hummed, his lips continued tickling your labia as he spoke against you. He hadn’t applied enough pressure for you to feel him against any of the more sensitive spots, but it was keeping you on edge as he kissed over where your entrance was very lightly.

“Baby…” you sighed with impatience.

“Don’t whine at me, use your mouth like I want you to.” He said and you moaned before just taking a hold of his cock and dipping the head between your lips. You gave him a nice, hard suck and he moaned lowly against you. You swore that you felt the vibration of his moan tickle your clit, “Fuck take more, baby…shit just like that. So fucking good with that mouth.” He sighed in pleasure as you sunk down half way and stroked the rest of him with your hand.

You moaned when you felt his fingers slightly spread your folds apart before he started laving from your entrance to your clit, his pace was set to that of your sucking on his cock. He was so good at this, he knew all of your weak spots well. You ground against him when he pushed his thick, hot tongue into your entrance. He plunged it in and out, in and out, over and over…you were so sensitive right at your entrance, it was making your head spin and you started to sink lower on his cock. He started to thrust up into your mouth, making you drool down his cock. When his fingers found your clit you moaned around him which caused him to groan against you.

“Fuck…” he grunted as he kissed at your cheek and let his tongue wander up to your bum. You shivered as he ran his tongue over your ribbed little hole as he sunk his thick digits into your sopping entrance. He twisted his fingers a bit until he felt yours walls clamp down around his fingers hard, “Right there, baby?” You moaned in response and he chuckled and then hissed when you sunk all the way down his cock, “Oh fuck…fuck yeah…” he hissed as his abs tensed up when his tip collided with the soft back of your mouth. His fingers kept prodding into that spot that had your arousal dripping from you and it built your orgasm quickly. He always found your g-spot and it did wonders for your orgasms.

You were nearly gagging on his cock as he thrust up into your throat, seeking out his own pleasure as you started to lose your rhythm with how good his fingers were working you. You were trying your best to breathe properly through your nose but it was hard to and the lack of proper airflow was making you feel a little woozy, but you were thriving off it because you were feeling the pleasure far more than normal.

“Shit, I’m gonna come…need you to come for me first, baby. Please…” he panted and you moaned around him and pulled up to focus on his tip as your hand stroked him expertly. It brought you joy to see his thighs trembling as he tried to hold his orgasm back, “Baby…baby, please…” he chuckled and you let your tongue rub into his slit, tasting his slightly salty pre-come starting to pool at it, “Oh fuck…” he groaned and he had to pull his fingers from you and just grabbed your thighs as his head rolled back and he chuckled, the sound melting into a grunt until you felt his sperm starting to shoot into your mouth. You swallowed what you could, but could feel some spilling out of the side of your mouth. You then slowly pulled off but kept stroking very slowly, “C-can’t believe you made me come first…” he chuckled breathily, “You’re gonna get it.” He panted and you grinned mischievously.

“It was apology head.” You hummed, “Think I owe you a bit more apologizing though…” you suggested mischievously and he was about to respond but you dipped down and sucked around his sensitive tip before he could even stop you. He started to laugh a bit at the sensitivity and breathily begged you to ease up as the tingles and overstimulation seemed to run an electric current down to his toes. He was trying to mind you as he writhed a bit beneath you.

“Baby!” He groaned through gritted teeth and just as you were about to let him go and cut him a break he moaned, “Fuck, I’mgonnacomeagain…” he slurred his words as he squeezed his eyes shut. His thighs were completely tense, his legs buckled as he groaned, “Shit baby, don’t stop…Don’t stop, don’t stop!” He begged and seconds later you felt his second orgasm pooling into your mouth. Once again, he was flooding it up with his generous creamy load and when you could tell he was done you pulled off of him with a satisfied smile as you swallowed it all down. Before you could even move he landed a sharp slap to your ass that made you straighten up and he chuckled as you glanced back and shot him glare, he was smirking at you in the same manner you were smirking at him. Then you knelt up and carefully got off the couch, you were going to offer him some water when he shot up and grabbed your hand and you glanced over at him.

“What, baby?” You asked with a smile.

“You’re not getting off that easy.” He smirked, “Come on, take a seat.” He said with an inviting smile.

“A seat?” You asked him with a smirk.

“Yeah love, on my face.” He grinned and well, he didn’t have to entice you any further. He was quick to get one of your decorative pillows under his head before you were lowering yourself down against his mouth. He kissed at you and tongued at your clit a few times and you watched as he got lost in you. You were letting him do his thing, but then his eyes blinked open and met your entranced gaze, “Use me to get off.” he mumbled against your sticky pussy, “Come on.” He encouraged.

You could see the lust in his eyes, he was hungry for it as much as you were. So without apprehension you slowly let more of your weight down over him. Your teeth were pinching down on your bottom lip as you slightly ran your folds over his mouth and he immediately got to work and you let out a sigh of relief as he sloppily lapped at you.The best thing about this was that he was really into it and it made the experience that much more pleasurable. He had his arms wrapped around your thighs as his neck craned up a bit to get even closer if possible. The wet and slurping sounds of him feasting on you were riling you up and you couldn’t stop yourself as you started to grind down against him. You let your head tilt back as your clit bumped into his nose over and over again until you were seeing stars. You were sure you were suffocating him beneath you, but he was holding you down so tightly you wouldn’t be able to really pull away if you wanted. You looked down at him with pleasure drunk eyes to see that he was looking at you just the same way and you groaned through a smile as you guided yourself a bit lower so that your clit was over his mouth.

“Suck it please, I’m getting close.” You requested and he groaned and opened up before latching his mouth over the top half of your pussy. You immediately moaned when the pressure of his sucks started to make your clit throb incessantly.

“Mmmm, just like that, baby…You’re doing so good. Fuck it feels so good.” You praised him as your fingers raked into his hair. Your eyebrows creased in when you felt the tip of his tongue slowly start to flick against your sensitive little bud every time he sucked it in. You were gripping his hair harder and harder the closer you got to your orgasm and he moaned at the sting of your pull on his thick curls. “Oh…you-you’re gonna make me come!” You alerted him and he started going a bit faster. Your breath was hitching as that unmistakeable warmth swimming in your belly started to spread all throughout your body. It was making you feel hot all over, “Yeah H, keep going like that…shit, just like that! Yes, baby!” You panted out your urgency.

Your body broke out in goosebumps as you teetered on the edge of it all, your tummy was fluttering and your thighs were quaking around his head as you clung to the feeling of that little spark that was about to ignite and make your entire body burst with the most sensational pleasure. It was until he very gently grazed his teeth over your unsuspecting little bundle that you started to come undone. You felt as if you had no control of your body as your writhed over him hard. You were completely selfish about it as you rode his face to get off.

Harry’s hands slid up and under your top and pinched at your nipples hard as you came undone over his mouth. You were moaning, praising, and cursing him relentlessly as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. You knew you were being louder than you were when you guys were at yours, but you couldn’t help it. And even still, you could hardly hear yourself over the intense ringing of your ears as your body fought it’s best to keep you coherent. You were drowning in the beautiful, warm waves of pleasure with each gentle suck he gave to your oversensitive clit. Even when you were shivering and gasping from the overstimulation you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t pull away from him. It all felt so good, you were lost and floating in pure bliss. Slowly, your orgasm started to dwindle down and you started to snigger just as he had when it was getting to be too much. When you began twitching and jerking over him from the sensitivity, he was far kinder than you were though and opted to just kiss at your messy folds delicately and lovingly until you were good and ready to get off of him.

His big, warm hands kneaded at your breasts before tickling down your abdomen and thighs. Once again you were covered in goosebumps at the lovely, little tickles of his gentle fingers over your heated skin. You could let him do this all day if you could, but you needed to let him breathe properly, so you gathered your strength and knelt up a bit. He huffed and craned his neck up to give your swollen and slicked up pussy one final kiss before he let go of your thighs and allowed you to sink down and kiss him deeply.

“Thank you.” You whispered against his mouth and he smiled.

“No, no, no. Thank you.” He insisted with a grin and you giggled and kissed his chin.

“Have you had dinner?” You asked.

“Ummm…I just ate.” He said with a smug expression and you rolled your eyes playfully at him, “You should’ve seen that coming, baby.” He chuckled.

“I really should have…” you laughed breathily, “Seriously though. I didn’t because I was nervous for our talk.” You explained.

“I did, but we can order something in or go pick something up. M’feeling a little peckish.” He said.

“What about phở? S’quite cold. I could use something warm.”

“OK, maybe I can eat again.” He chuckled and you smiled.

“The place I like doesn’t deliver, we’ll have to order and carry out. Might be like 20-30 minutes?”

“Yeah, that’s alright.” He assured.

Soon he was getting dressed and hurrying to rinse of his face while you placed your order. Then you did the same as him and just decided to remove your makeup since it was getting late. When you emerged from your bathroom you saw Harry sprawled out on your bed scrolling through his phone and you just went over and straddled his lap again. He immediately dropped his phone and hugged you as you rested over him.

“You really want to marry me?” You asked quietly and he smiled.

“Yeah, baby. I really fucking do.” He responded, “Been waiting my whole life for you.” He hummed as he caressed your back lightly.

“I think I have been waiting for you too.” You said softly and he kissed the top of your head a few times which made you smile.

You had no idea what kind of good karma you had accumulated throughout your life to deserve someone like Harry, but you were so glad that you had him in your life. He truly was your other half. You’d loved others before, but this was so different than all the other times. Finally, everything you gave was being reciprocated how you needed it to be. He made you feel important, safe, and cared for in a way that you hadn’t felt since you were a child. It was comforting to be around someone who made you feel that way. He often told you that he felt the same with you and nothing could make you happier than knowing that he felt your love as well. Harry was definitely more of a physical touch type of person, which you were a quality time person, but those two seemed to go hand in hand. You could lay in silence with him like this for hours, just being close to him, being in his presence for whatever amount of time always made you feel better.

…. DECEMBER ….

You were currently getting ready for Harry’s firm’s Holiday party. A thing you had always wondered about but had never been invited to when you were with Cal. You were very excited because Harry told you it was quite lavish this year, especially after the very successful year he’d had. It was going to be formal/black tie optional because he really wanted to treat his employees after all of their hard work and effort.

Typically he gave a budget to each department and they would choose how to celebrate or if they just wanted to give out bonuses to their people. But he wanted to celebrate every single person who put in effort for him and his family’s company and give everyone bonuses, or at least that what you suggested and he took that suggestion. From the top executives to the interns who did the boring paperwork and coffee runs. Every person counted and he wanted them to feel that. He had asked you to work with Corey to vet a few caterers.

He had hired a planner already for the organization and decor because he didn’t want you fretting over all of this, he wanted you to enjoy as a guest. Nevertheless, knowing this was your niche, he still ran all of the design elements and ideas by you which he knew would make you so excited. When he looked through the selection of caterers the planner offered he wasn’t really impressed. Since he didn’t find what he was looking for he of course he asked you and well now, everything was absolutely perfect. The party was later in the afternoon in the same building the firm was in, but on the top floor. It had been converted into an event hall the year prior and it was the perfect location as the mostly all glass walls gave breathtaking views of the city. In preparation for this most lavish event, you and Harry had been lazing around and leaving everything in the hands of the planner.

You had decided to make a whole weekend of it and stayed over at one of his for rent apartments in the city with him. It was lovely and you were just laying in the big, comfy bed as you looked through some emails from potential clients wanting to hire you for their special events. It was around noon when Harry finally got out of bed and he’d only done so because he still wasn’t sure what he would be wearing that night. He had brought along two options and he wanted to get your opinion on what would be the best look for the party.

“Baby, what do you think?” Harry asked you as he emerged in a classic black tuxedo and you glanced up from your laptop and then your eyes widened a bit before you smirked.

“Okay, James Bond! I see you…” You hummed at him and he chuckled and glanced down bashfully, shaking his head at your nonsense, “Christ, look at you.” You whispered in awe as you got out of bed and hurried over to him.

“Like it?” He asked.

“Oh man, do I…” you said as you straightened out the bowtie just a bit.

“I also brought a gray one that-”

“No, no. Wear the black one.” You said decisively with a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. It’s so classic and ummm, we’ll also match.” You said with a big smile, your excitement was shimmering in your eyes.

“Like a proper couple.” He said and you nodded giddily. “What dress did you end up getting?” He asked you.

“The Sau Lee one? Remember s’black with a big bow in the front?”

“Mmmm…faintly.” He said and you smiled.

“Should I try it on for you?” You asked coyly. And he gave you an expression that screamed ‘obviously’. “OK, let me do that. Go wait on the bed.” You instructed and hurried into the closet.

The surprise you had for him was that you’d gotten some lingerie specifically for when you got back home. You hadn’t picked a dress with a bow as the top for nothing! You wanted him to feel like you were the present he got to unwrap on Christmas morning. Moments later you were buck naked and just slipping into the dress to show him. You had every intention of getting back into your PJ’s until you had to shower and get ready for the evening. You jumped around a bit, grunting as you tried to get the zip up.

“Need help?” He called out.

“I’ve got it!” You assured him and after a few moments you were smiling at your reflection with complete satisfaction before heading out of the large walk-in closet and into the bedroom.

“Oh, baby…” Harry exhaled and shook his head as his smile widened.

“What?” You giggled.

“How am I supposed to see you walking around like that all night and do nothing about it?” He chuckled and you smile widened.

“You’ll just have to be patient.” You said to him and he chuckled.

“I will try my best. My god, you’re perfect.” He hummed and you were literally buzzing with excitement.

“I’m gonna wear these long diamond drop earrings I picked up at a Francesca’s a few years back. Been trying to find a thing to wear them for and I finally can! Oh, I also got these black satin gloves that I think would make it look that much more fancy and that would look cute with a diamond bracelet I borrowed from Cece-”

“Cece has a diamond bracelet?” He asked you and you nodded.

“She has sugar daddies in powerful places!” You said matter-of-factly.

“The more I learn about her the more fascinating she becomes…like there’s gonna be a film about her life at some point.”

“Oh, for sure…” You chuckled and he smiled.

“Well I say yes, go for the whole look! Gotta commit to it, love.”

“Mmmm, you’re right. We’re gonna look so cute. We’ll have to have the photographers take nice pictures of us.”

“Definitely. Also, I know it would push us over budget a bit, but Corey talked me into the slow-mo 360 photo op thing so we’ll have that too.” He said.

“Nice, Corey…that’s gonna be great!” You grinned and he nodded.

“Yeah, it was pretty sick. OK, now go change before we have to get you a new dress for tonight on account of me tearing it off of you.” He said and you cackled as you hurried back to the closet to get changed.

Though you knew he was being a little theatrical, there was a very real possibility that he would do just as he said; when he was in the mood he could be ravenous. You could be too, especially when it came to him. But he had proven this to you over and over again, even on that first time you hooked up with him. He had gone completely overboard, not that you didn’t benefit from it, but based on how things had been with you before it was a lot. And now you had built your stamina to better match his own.

It was around 2pm when you got in the shower. You and Harry were supposed to arrive at 4:30 so you had to hurry it up a bit. Even though you had begged him not to, he followed you into the shower and you had to pry him off of you to be able to get out. But when you were free you got to drying up, moisturizing, and getting your lingerie on. You wouldn’t be wearing a bra with your dress so you had on a deep red mesh thong, imprinted with black little hearts and the edges outlining the mesh were frilled. They were so cute and hyperfeminine. Best part was that you had a shade of red lipstick that matched the lingerie you were wearing as well. It wasn’t crazy lingerie but you loved the idea of having a horny little secret all night long. Maybe you’d tell him when you were riding up on the elevator. Tell him that you had a little treat for him at the end of the night… It would undoubtedly rile him up and keep him on edge.

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

And rile him up you did. You actually had very punctual guests and so you actually got straight to greeting just minutes after you arrived. Of course, you were sat beside each other at dinner, but he was talking mostly to his colleague on his left and you to his colleague on your right. When dinner was cleared, everyone was asked to huddle around the screen at the Dj booth for a little slide show of the year in review all the while the event staff cleared the tables of the china quickly. Harry gave a small little speech about how grateful he was for everyone before letting them know that their night was their own from that point on.

There were the photo ops, a couple games, a few dessert tables, and of course dancing to a live big band ensemble. As you made your rounds you eventually ran into Cal and his date, Melissa, which seemingly was a bit older than you were, which was good for him. She was a very sweet woman from the short conversation you’d had and Cal seemed to be in a great mood with her around.

For a while, you and Harry kept getting swept away from each other, but that didn’t mean that your eyes weren’t constantly meeting, your gazes simmering with longing. Your eyes were hazy with lust, it was making your blood thump harder and faster through your veins. You were smoldering with desire for him, you’d been lusting after him all day and you were reaching a boiling point. You caught him raking his eyes down your plump-as-a-peach ass while his top row of teeth sunk into his plush bottom lip. You grinned and when your gazes met he signaled you to look right with his eyebrows and you saw that it was the exit of the salon. You bit your lip and nodded. You excused yourself from your conversation and hurried off to meet Harry by the door.

When you finally caught up with him you tugged at the sleeve of his jacket and he glanced back and smiled and his hand found found yours and pulled you out to the corridor. The bathrooms were out there, so there were plenty of people hanging around out there, but he just beelined it to the elevators. He pulled you ahead of him and then hugged you to his body from behind. He slid one if his hands down to your lower tummy and pushed against it, inevitably pressing your body back against his until your bottom was flush with his front and you smirked when you felt the outline of his boner rubbing up against your butt.

“Gonna fuck you till you leave a huge creamy mess all over my cock.” He whispered before nipping at the shell of your ear.

“Fuck me…” you exhaled as your walls fluttered beautifully, making a tingle zap through your body.

“Alright hurry, push the ‘door close’ button.” He mumbled as he rushed you inside as the doors opened.

In moments you were shooting down floors at a time until you came to a slow and smooth stop on his floor. As soon as he got to the floor he hurried around the reception desk there and dug in his front pocket to grab his key card and give you access past the heavy glass door behind the main reception desk. You guys rushed through other communal areas surrounding a few clusters of cubicles and other offices on your way back to his office, he was all the way at the back of the space so after you got through the lounge and the back offices, you finally made it to the administrative offices. And at the far end of that area was his office. He pushed the door open and held it for you as you hurried in, then he came up behind you grabbing you by the hips and guiding you behind his desk, kicking the chair away from it. You could just barely see anything so you bumped into the frame and he winced for you.

“You alright, baby?” He asked as he tapped against the base of his desk lamp and a very dim, warm glow lit up his office.

“Yeah, H.” You whispered and he hummed and looked you over once more before he kissed at your neck sloppily.

“Can I ride this up past your hips?” He asked of your dress.

“Nuh-uh, gotta take it all off.” you said and he hummed.

“S’that alright? Can I?”

“Yeah, baby…there’s not a bow over my boobs for no reason…” you smirked and he chuckled.

“Oh okay, I see…” he mused with a smile, “You really are a gift, baby. So exquisite.” He hummed and found your zipper before tugging it slowly down your back. When he saw the edge of your thong he smiled. “And look at this…Can I take a picture?” He asked.

“A picture? For what?” You chuckled.

“To have a wank over you when needed, of course! What else for, baby?” He asked rhetorically and you chuckled again.

“Yeah, get my dress off first.” You said and he even crouched down to help you step out of it. When Harry noticed your point toed black heels, he decided that they were staying on for this. He neatly draped your dress over the chair that had rolled a few feet away from you and then reached for his phone in his pocket.

“S’gonna be a .5 alright? Bend over and look back. Alright, hold it.” He said and then the flash went off. He then brought the phone down and opened the app and grinned. “Fuck, look at you…” he said showing you and you smiled. “These are too cute to come off.” he complimented as his finger tucked itself under the elastic band edge that narrowed and got lost between your plump, round cheeks. His finger traced down until he was down by your pussy. You were scorching between your legs and he brought four fingers together and petted at your pussy. The mesh there felt sticky and he moaned, “Fuck you’re sopping wet.” He chuckled as he set his phone down on the top of his desk and you nodded.

“Please get inside me. I need to feel you, baby.” You requested and he groaned.

“Alright baby, let me…let me get these off.” he said and just threw off his jacket and untucked his shirt before working the button and fly of his slacks. He rolled his briefs down with his pants before he grabbed his cock. He gave it a firm squeeze at the base and then at the head, groaning in relief at all that alleviated pressure.

You wiggled your ass at him, absolutely gagging to feel his girth spreading your tight, cushy walls apart in one go. He painted down your bum with his tip and then pushed you down onto the desk and you gasped as your breasts smushed into the cold surface. But you held your position and smiled as he spread your legs further with his own. His thick fingers gathered the center strap of your thong and moved it to the side, tugging hard enough that it exposed your pussy enough so that he could smear his cock against your folds and slick it up with your sticky arousal.

“Fuck baby, please…” you begged.

“How do you want it.”

“However you feel like, just get in me.” You said and he wasted no time to nudge at your weepy little hole with the bulbous head of his cock. You were basically vibrating with anticipation to feel him sinking inside of you. You needed to feel it like you needed air to breathe. The last thing you expected was for him to just ram his cock into you, you gasped at the sudden and harsh intrusion and even let out a small whimper as he held himself deep inside you. Your walls spasmed around him, adjusting to his sudden and most welcomed intrusion.

“So fucking tight, fuck…” he grunted as he gently started to grind against you. His tip would brush against your cervix occasionally like this. You were slightly on your tiptoes and your legs were starting to tremble, but when you lowered your feet from that position to relieve the burning in your calf muscles his cock completely pushed against it and you shrieked and Harry chuckled. “Y’alright, baby?” He asked as he ground into you and you groaned softly, “It hurts?” He asked.

“J-just a little bit.” You got out as you sought out the pleasure despite the small discomfort.

“Yeah? Is my cock too big for you, baby…” he hummed as he stayed there, letting you get used to it, “Can’t handle it?” He asked and you whimpered at this feeling, he had never intentionally gone that deep it was so new for you. You loved it but it was a feeling to get used to for sure, especially with his size.

“I-I don’t know…” you confessed as you stayed perfectly still, letting him grind against you, prodding up against the deepest part of you rhythmically. You were breathing shallowly as you tried to get used to it because by no means were you about to ask him to stop, you needed it so bad.

“You sure you can’t? From what I’m seeing you’re handling it pretty well, baby. Fuck…just feel so good around me.” he groaned as he started going a bit faster and suddenly the sounds of your arousal intensified into loud squelching sounds every time his front collided with you. The filthy sounds had Harry’s ears ringing and he grinned, “S’starting to feel better?”

“Yes…yes fuck. Harder, baby. Please, fuck me harder.” You moaned and he did as you asked. He went at it with greater force and it had your eyes squeezing shut, you were dripping around his cock and he was absolutely obsessed with it. His fingers slithered down the front of your thong and started to toy with your clit. “Mmmm, that’s it.” You egged him on happily as his fingers swirled around your sensitive little bud. It was sending additional little shocks of pleasure down your legs. You started to moan when he picked up the pace and fucked into you harder and faster than before, his desk was shaking beneath you and you swore your legs were about to give.

“Shit…” he grunted as he stilled deep inside of you once again. His eyes were squeezed shut and his jaw clenched. He was so fucking close and he didn’t want it to be over yet…but you should be getting back down to the party… “Can I turn you around, baby? Wanna see you when I come.” He said softly and you nodded and when he pulled out of you the emptiness made you feel so cold. Nevertheless, you pressed yourself up and he twirled you around and bent down a bit to lift you up onto the surface of the desk. He smiled as he got a look at you in the dim lighting. His eyes had adjusted enough that he could make out the slightly smudged mascara and eyeliner at the outer corner of your eyes and when he reached up to wipe it away you turned your head.

“No, don’t.” You said softly and he smiled.

“Not gonna make it worse, just wanna clean it up a bit so that-”

“I know, don’t want you to clean it up.” You responded quietly and he smiled.

“Want to go back up there looking all messy and fucked out, is that it?” He asked you and you smiled bashfully and nodded.

“Yeah, just a bit.” You hummed back and he smiled.

“Well in that case…” he grinned and grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. You were wearing a red lipstick so you had been very cautious all night to not stain yourself or anything around you, but suddenly Harry was sucking on your bottom lip, surely smearing you and himself with it and when he pulled back he grinned and just swiped his thumb carefully around your lips and the corners of your mouth. Harry’s mouth was stained all over as well and you giggled as you reached up and did the same, but seeing as his skin was bare, the color had stained his skin directly and it left behind a slight deep pink stain. “Get me again.” He said softly and you looked into his eyes.

“You sure?” You asked and he nodded.

“But my neck. Leave a mark yeah?” He said lowly and you bit your lip pensively, “M’all yours my love, please.” He requested.

“OK, but while you finish fucking me.” You said and his smile widened and he nodded in agreement and ran his hands up your thighs to reach your thong.

“Lift up a bit.” He said quietly and you did so to allow him to slip it to the side and guide his erection back towards your entrance. You rocked your hips forward to help get him inside and you moaned in relief when he was lodged deep inside of you once again. He smiled down at you and brought one of his hands to your breast and squeezed it before brushing his thumb over your nipple as he started to rock into you. “Deep like before?” He asked and you nodded quickly and he grinned, “Liked that?” He asked quietly and you smiled timidly.

“Yeah, baby.” You agreed, “Want to be able to feel it for days.” You said and he moaned and delivered one sharp thrust into you. He watched your eyebrows crease together at the dull ache from his cock ramming into your cervix again.

“S’that good for you, baby?”

“Yeah, more please.” You hummed and he kept going like that. He wasn’t going fast, just hard and deep. It was making your tummy swarm with butterflies and your hands pulled him down so that you could latch your lips to his neck. You kissed and sucked at his skin, leaving behind a love bite as he plunged deep into you.

“Fuck baby, m’getting close. Get your clit for me, please. Want you to come with me.” He panted and you did as he asked and quickly got your fingers into your bottoms and started to rub in time with his thrusts. You started to squirm a bit as the pleasure started to extend beyond the pit of your stomach. Your legs were tightening around him as you whimpered his name. “Oh god…oh fuck, baby y-you’re gonna make me come!” He grunted as he started to lose his rhythm, “Look at me, Y/N. Right at me, baby.” He mumbled and you pulled away from his neck to lock eyes with his and his brows furrowed as he shook his head, “So fucking perfect.” He complimented you, “Gonna stuff you full.”

You swallowed thickly and your jaw went slack as your body started to tremble with your impending orgasm. You gasped for air and fought to keep your eyes on his as your toes started to curl and the fire started to spread from your belly all throughout your body.

“I’m coming!” You gasped as you started to whither around his cock. The last thing you saw was Harry smiling before your eyes squeezed shut. And then he started to thrust into you so fast, chasing his own release. He kept colliding with your g-spot and it was making your withering orgasm turn into another one. You could hear him groaning and feel his warmth filling you up as he came inside you, but you started to rub your clit faster until your walls were pulsing around his cock again in another orgasm that had you moaning loudly without any regard for where you were or who could be around. You were just seeing white behind your closed eyelids as this one hit you even harder than the first.

“Shit…shit, baby! Oh fuck, baby!” He gasped in sensitivity but you locked your legs around him and held him in you as you relished in your second orgasm. Your ears were ringing and your entire body was shivering in ecstasy. You could hear him laughing a bit, fighting through the intense sensitivity of still being buried to the hilt inside of your hot and throbbing walls. You were both panting, trying to catch your breaths and come down from that. You just held each other in silence for a bit and you gently rubbed at his back as he hugged you close. “You really are the best gift I could’ve ever asked for, baby.” He said quietly and you smiled and craned your neck up to kiss his jaw. He let you go and you pulled back from each other and then reached for his jaw, ready to wipe off the faint kiss mark you’d left on him there and he pulled his neck back out of your reach and you grinned, “Gonna show it off too.” He said and you smiled.’

“OK, baby.” You said, clearly giddy with his decision to have him wearing your lipstick print on his skin.

“Are you having a nice time?”

“Oh yeah! Everyone is so nice. I’m having a really good time. We should get back down there actually, maybe do some of the games?”

“Yeah.” He hummed but made no effort to pull out of you just yet, “I love you so much. Too much.” He said softly as he ran his thumb over your cheek bone and you leaned into his touch.

“Too much?” You questioned through a giggle and he chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, like sometimes s’too much for my body. Like, it feels like I can’t breathe.” He explained with a smile and you grabbed his face and pecked his lips quickly.

“So I take your breath away?” You whispered and his smile widened as he huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess you do, baby.” He hummed. “Do I take your breath away?” He asked and you grinned and shook your head. This made Harry pout and you smiled at him.

“It’s worse than that!” You said through your smile.

“Is it? Tell me then.” He hummed before quickly pecking the tip of your nose.

“You know how when the vampires can over hypnotize someone in What We Do In The Shadows?” You asked and he nodded, “And the person gets the “brain scramblies”?” You said and he chuckled, “That’s what you do to me. Makes my brain feel all fuzzy and staticky. Can only think about you and nothing else.” You finished and he was smiling wide.

“That’s cute, baby. But I think not breathing is worse. Therefore, I love you more.” He said and you smiled.

“Actually, you’re wrong. Your brain is what technically gives you life. It holds the information that makes you breathe on instinct. It’s your command center. Without it you wouldn’t be able to function at all! And somehow, you’re so entangled in mine that I know your mood just by the greeting you use when-” he interrupted you with his lips attaching themselves to yours in a deep and sensual kiss. Your heart fluttered and it felt like time stopped for a few seconds. After a few perfect and tense moments you pulled back and your eyes blinked open and your gazes locked, “-come home at night.” You finished and he smiled.

“I definitely love you more.” He said.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, baby?” He asked with a smile.

“Ummm, I’m ready.” You said and he looked at you with confusion for a second, “To take the next step with you.” You said and his brows furrowed as he took in what you said. “You’re the love of my life. I don’t want to live a single day without you by my side.” You said sincerely.

Harry couldn’t contain his joy and he just pulled you into his arms once again and you exhaled against him, so happy and relieved to have finally told Harry something that had been on your heart since a few days after your conversion about your future. You were so proud of yourself for just listening to your intuition when it came to this decision. After a few moments of just holding each other he pulled back and gently grabbed your face in his hands. His eyes bore into yours, looking into them so sincerely you could feel his emotions radiating off of him in waves and he smiled wide and kissed you deeply until you both couldn’t breathe.

In this moment it felt like you were the only two people in the world; even with the gorgeous cityscape bustling with life behind you, it felt like the world was all yours. You hadn’t experienced happiness with another person like you did with him. You guys made each other better and that was the point, wasn’t it? To be with someone who helped you be your best. So when your parents inevitably asked over the holidays what your goals were with each other you two could tell them with certainty that you were going to start a life together soon. Every part of you felt alight and you couldn’t wait to get started in planning your future together. Your kiss ended and he sighed and gazed deeply into your eyes.

“Oh baby, I’m gonna do everything I can to make you so, so happy.” Harry said softly but with a conviction you felt transferring into you as well. You smiled at this and squeezed him just a bit tighter.

“You already do, baby.” You assured him happily.

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